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# We Could Be Heroes (The Descendants, #1)

By Landon Porter
We Could Be Heroes (The Descendants, #1)  
© 2012 Landon Porter

A compilation reprinting:

The Descendants #0-#7 from www.descendantsserial.com  
Copyright © 2006 by Landon Porter

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission of the Author. Your support of author's rights is appreciated.

All characters in this compilation are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

To my mother, Barbara, who gave me my love of storytelling,

To Rebecca, who defends my ideas from myself.

To Cassandra, my first fan.

To Matt, the best brother an only child could have.

# Forward

I was born during the Bronze Age of Comics; a time when comic books were growing up; free of the Comics Code Authority and the almost enforced silliness of the Silver Age, but not yet mired in the cynicism and crass darkness of the Dark Age. It was a time when comics explored human relationships; from romance, to family (both biological and adoptive), to tolerance and every facet in between; when characters explored social issues and grew as human beings.

Though it was over by the time I was first introduced to the characters, I feel that it was this age that reflected what is best in comics: Heroes who, though extraordinarily empowered, are human at their core, and fallible. Despite these faults, they stood up, strove forward, and did what was right even at great personal risk. They were people we can relate to while still being something we can aspire to. I hope that _The Descendants_ and the characters involved capture some of this feeling.

Once, there was a time that it wasn't uncommon for adults and children alike to openly read and discuss the comics of the day with one another. Unfortunately today, most people would be embarrassed to be seen reading a 22-page glossy on the bus, even if they are more than willing to pay twenty dollars to see their favorite heroes on the big screen every summer.

I feel that we want superheroes. We need them more than ever in the current world where all too often, we are made to feel alone and powerless. That is why _The Descendants_ and the greater _Descendants Universe_ exists; presenting the same kind of heroic and entertaining stories in a prose, but in the familiar comic book format of issues, volumes and miniseries for both regular comics fans and those who can't bear to be caught reading an old fashioned sequential art. Any allegations that it also exists in this form because I can't draw are patiently... true.

# About This Book

As you read this book, please keep in mind that it is not a single, contiguous story. Rather, it is an anthology of stories set in the same universe and following the same characters. One issue will not necessarily follow up on the events in the last. In true comic book fashion, these stories form a story arc where events in Issue one may be revisited many issues down the road.

# Preface

The past will always hold sway over the future. It was because of the actions and atrocities of the twentieth century that in the twenty-first century, mankind came to learn that it had birthed a new breed of _homo sapiens_. Erroneously dubbed psionics, these young men and women bore within them new genetic potentials imprinted upon their bloodlines generations before; potentials to achieve what had been relegated to fiction and fancy before their coming.

As all humans do, psionics soon found themselves in a position to make moral choices about their capabilities. Many, especially those with benign powers, chose the middling path; simply living normal, average lives with a minor perk or two. Those who chose to employ their abilities for the good of their community were dubbed 'prelates' by the media. Those who chose to seek personal gain at the expense of others were dubbed 'rogues' by the world's governments.

In the United States, it was decided that the best way to prevent rogues from becoming a threat was to train and encourage the proper use of psionic powers. To this end, the privately controlled, but government funded Psionics Training and Application Academy was founded. The Academy provided general education, training and ultimately referred young psionics to jobs in the public service sector. To combat the rogues that would still inevitably arise, a private force of psionics called the Enforcer Corps was founded on the Academy grounds in Langley, VA and given special police powers from the office of the President himself.

For over two decades, the Academy and the Corps grew into well known institutions in the US, helping to stem the fears regular citizens harbored for psionics.

It would not last.

Not because of a flaw in the system, but because ultimately, both organizations had been founded with far less altruistic intentions for the young psionics within their walls.

What follows is an account of a handful of individuals who were among the first to uncover the truth behind the Academy. Forced into hiding by the deadly Enforcer Corps, they will come together, be torn apart, and transformed into more than just themselves. They will become family and through their actions, a chain of events will unfold that will change the world...

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# The Descendants #0 – From There To Here

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## From There To Here (Part 1)

Freeland House. The name was everywhere in the place; on the dry rotted welcome mats, the moldering towels, and on the once cheerful brass plates that named each of its rooms.

Once, it had been a comfortable bed and breakfast, nestled in a suburb of Mayfield, Virginia commonly called the Hills. For fifty years, it had passed from owner to owner, providing honeymooning couples with sweet memories to last a lifetime.

But it had been five years since it had seen any guests, let alone care or maintenance. Time, and the bipolar Virginia weather hadn't been kind to it.

They hadn't spared the room identified by a pair of those brass plates affixed to the thick, wooden double doors connecting it to the hall as the sun porch. Dust and mold had colonized, rendering the original padding on the two futons unsanitary. The wicker furniture was still serviceable, but frayed and worn all the same. A thick coat of grime on the bay windows made it almost impossible to see out of them.

What it had been in the past held no meaning to anyone there, for in the all too real present it was an infirmary.

On one futon lay a man in his mid twenties. His hair was matted with drying blood, his clothes soaked in the same. His wounds had been closed, but he had yet to regain consciousness from the beating he'd taken the previous night.

Across from him on the other futon, lay a young man of Iranian descent, between sixteen or seventeen. He was also unconscious, but his body showed no signs of violence. Whatever had befallen him had all but shut down his motor functions.

Between the two, a tall woman in her twenties with caramel skin sat hugging a weeping, redheaded teenaged girl tightly, cooing calming words to her while trying her hardest to keep from crying herself. Not all of the damage done was physical.

Alexis Keyes watched everything from the doorway, trying desperately to piece everything together, asking herself how they had come to be here and if things had to turn out this way. Most troubling in her mind was how everything happening to them was not because of something they had done, but something they were born with.

The government and general public called them 'psionics', though that name hardly described the variety and range of the powers that such people displayed. No one seemed to be able to agree on their origin, but the prevailing theory was that they were the descendants of test subjects in hundreds of different experiments conducted in the 1940's and 50's.

It took five generations for the first obvious effects of the experiments to be noticed and by then there were thousands, possibly hundreds of thousands of people across the globe displaying supernatural powers and genetic deformities.

As a teen, Alexis had attended a school for psionics; the Psionics Training and Application Academy, along with Laurel Brant; the woman currently comforting the young girl, and Ian Smythe, the wounded man on the futon. They became best friends there. In fact, Alexis looked back on her time at the Academy as some of the happiest years of her life.

She had been so happy there that she later took job teaching there to help the next generation.

An involuntary shudder ran through her body. That was where the trouble started.

It seemed a lifetime ago that she'd received a call from a man named George. In a short, cryptic conversation, he directed her to be in the right place at the right time to witness a student she'd been led to believe had left the school; locked in a stasis cell and being loaded into a truck.

A little digging revealed that the girl Alexis had seen was by far not the only one. Dozens, possibly hundreds were being taken and their disappearances hidden under labyrinthine policies, programs and red tape. Many families were somehow being duped into believing their child was being boarded at the Academy full time when they were really being, placed into stasis and shipped off.

Alexis allowed herself to slide down the door frame into a sitting position, her knees pulled up to her chest. Her straight, black hair fell in a curtain over her eyes. She'd believed in the Academy, in its promise to train gifted people like herself and help them use their abilities to make the world a better place. Now she just felt like a fool, taken in by honeyed words and grand promises.

She had been a student there – a teacher there. But what was she really? Bait, she realized, to lure in the next wave of applicants.

Fear had driven her to seek out her two friends in Washington State, where both were employed as researchers for Brant Industries, the company owned by Laurel's billionaire father, after over two years of being incommunicado. Inadvertently, she also led an agent in the employ of the Academy's Enforcer Corps called Prometheus directly to Ian's home.

As Alexis struggled to explain what she had discovered, Prometheus arrived to arrest her. When Ian resisted, Prometheus engaged him, his pyrokinetic powers burning Ian's home to the ground in the process.

Force to flee, the trio spent weeks in hiding before hatching a plan to rescue the students being held in stasis in the Academy.

Images of stasis cells flickered across Alexis's memory. It made her dizzy with nausea. She knew stasis only as a medical term. Terminal patients and the gravely wounded were put into stasis as an emergency last measure. The process was traumatic and few were ever kept in stasis more than a day for fear of permanent physical damage to motor function. The Academy, had been putting people in stasis for its entire sixteen year history.

Alexis glanced up at the redhead in Laurel's arms. Her name was Melissa Forrester and she was living proof of that. She had been Alexis's roommate in freshman year. Now, over a decade later, Melissa was still physically and mentally sixteen. Recognizing Alexis, Laurel and Ian had shocked her badly and she hadn't stopped crying since coming out of stasis.

Even worse off than Melissa, however was Kareem Utt, the teen lying on the futon opposite Ian. The documentation on his stasis cell said that he'd been in stasis for four years, but that time seemed to have serious detrimental effects on him. He was effectively in a coma, but his telepathic powers and ability to project himself onto the Astral Plane remained active, allowing him to speak mentally to others.

At the moment, he remained silent.

There were two other teens rescued from stasis; Warrick Kaine and Cynthia McAllister. Neither seemed to be suffering any harm mentally or physically and were even now watching television down the hall from the makeshift infirmary.

The rescue had taken place only a few hours before. Ian had come face to face with Prometheus a second time, trying to stall and give Alexis and Laurel time to take the kids to safety. In the process, he took a brutal beating before Alexis could return for him.

After that, Laurel took over from the physically and emotionally drained Alexis and calmed Melissa down long enough to convince her to use her psionic ability of healing touch on Ian. Then she had driven everyone to this place: Freeland House. It belonged to her father, William Brant via a number of shell corporations and he directed her to it when he had learned of their plight.

Really, Alexis expected nothing less from Laurel. Though she was hyper-cognitive and thus capable of retaining any and all information she read or learned, making her one of the most intelligent people on the planet, she was also one of the most caring. Like her father, Laurel's primary concern in life was that everyone around her was happy.

As if sensing Alexis was thinking about her, Laurel looked up from the now sleeping form of Melissa. "Are you doing any better now, Alex?" she asked like a concerned mother.

"It's just a lot to take in, L." She said dumbly, shaking her head. "I mean... a few days ago, I was so happy to be working for the Academy and now..." She choked back a sob.

Gently laying Melissa to the side, Laurel stood and walked over to kneel beside her friend. "There's no way you could have known." She said sympathetically. "And look at it this way; now that we know about this, we can do something about it."

"How?" Alexis asked, holding back another sob. "Are we going to lobby Congress? The Academy is government funded, Laurel. Even with your father's connections, I'm not sure people that send pyrokinetics to hunt down anyone who knows too much are going to care about politics."

"There are other ways of doing things, you know?" Laurel moved to sit against the wall beside Alexis. "These kids the only ones at the Academy campus. That means they're holding others elsewhere. We can find and save more kids from stasis at least. I'd wager that at least one of those places has some concrete evidence we can use to put this plot to bed for good."

Blinking, Alexis looked over at Laurel. "Fight them again? You saw what happened to Ian."

Laurel cut her off. "Ian will be fine. Remember, he's the one that came up with the rescue idea in the first place." She spared a glance toward where Ian lay. "You know he'll be all for doing it again no matter how many hits he takes. It's just his way."

"Even if we are willing," Alexis was seriously considering the notion now, "Can we seriously deal with the likes of Enforcers like Prometheus? He nearly killed Ian."

"With the help of a Brant Industries powered armor suit." Laurel pointed out. "A version a lot older than the kind Ian and I were working on when you came to us. I'm not one to brag, but between you and Ian's powers and some new technology, we could even the playing field."

Melissa made a sound in her sleep and drew both of their attention.

Alexis's contemplation of Laurel's plan stopped dead. "We can't. The kids... we can't just send them back home for the Academy to recapture at their leisure. We need to keep them here to protect them. And we need to fix this place up so they can live here comfortably. There's no way we could do that if we're running around the country breaking into research facilities."

"I can stay here to hold down the fort." Laurel said. "You know; make sure you two have a home to come back to, watch the kids, that sort of thing."

"But fighting was your idea. Why would you bow out to play den mother?"

"Because I wouldn't be very useful fighting." Laurel shrugged. "Ian can control the density of any fluid mass; even back in school, he was able to do real damage with that. You have your 'black heat'. Until today, I never saw you use it offensively, but you can fuse steel with those little bolts of darkness you throw."

She shifted to a more comfortable position against the wall. "Me? I'm smart. And that's about it as far as powers go. What am I going to do in a fight, engage the enemy in intellectual discussion?"

Alexis nodded. If Laurel said she wouldn't be much use in a fight, she wouldn't be. Still, the concept of using her powers offensively was a foreign concept to her. Back at the Academy, she only used her ability (generating a charged particle cloud her instructors called 'black heat') to fly, or render herself invisible.

Even then, using the particles to bend light around her left her blind and never seemed like much of a good idea. Of course, at the Academy, using one's powers to do harm or property damage was a serious offense.

The Academy's stated purpose was to groom gifted youths to use their powers in civil service capacities. It was generally assumed that those who entered the armed services received special training in offensive use of their powers.

There were, however, non-government affiliated individuals that acted as vigilantes; using their powers to fight for their own causes, usually breaking up criminal enterprises. These days, a few of these were widely known. Those most popular in the public eye had become known collectively as 'prelates' as, for some reason, the media wanted nothing to do with the idea of real life superheroes.

After a few moments of silent thought, Alexis put her head back against the wall. "I'm not exactly ready to be a prelate, Laurel. For one thing, it'd draw a lot of unneeded attention; something these kids don't need."

Laurel nodded, accepting her decision even if she didn't agree.

"But I'll tell you what; once Ian's back on his feet and this place is fixed up, then we'll see what we can do about all of this, okay?" Alexis managed to give her friend a small smile.

A long groan came from Ian. Both women looked up to see him starting to stir. Slowly, he swung his feet off the futon, and sat up. Coughing, he ran a hand through his blood encrusted hair.

"Oh, man... what happened?" He managed, looking at his now bloodied hand. He was still very unsteady and confused, both from blood loss and Melissa's healing touch, were taking their toll. "And why am I so dizzy?" He wondered aloud as his friends rose and came to his side.

"Melissa healed you." Laurel said, reaching him slightly ahead of Alexis. "But all she really does is speed up your body's natural healing process and your metabolism. You're probably suffering from an abnormally low blood sugar..." She paused, noting Ian's confused expression. "Her healing makes you hungry." She said plainly, albeit with a bit of a dissatisfied smirk.

Ian looked around. "Where are the other two?" He asked, referring to the kids.

"Down the hall, watching television." Laurel pointed vaguely.

"Uh-huh. And where exactly are we?" Ian asked, shaking his head to clear it as Alexis sat down beside him.

"Mayfield." Alexis said. "Laurel bought us here. This place is her dad's."

"We're safe here if that's what you're worried about." Laurel said gently. "I've set up enough fake credit card uses to lead them to Atlanta."

Ian nodded, swaying slightly. He cast another glance in Melissa's direction. "Hey, is that girl really..."

Alexis nodded. "Melissa Forrester, my old roommate from the Academy."

"How?" Ian asked, starting to stand, but the fatigue caused his knees to buckle. "She's just a kid. Melissa would be our age now."

"I'll go get you something to eat." Laurel started toward the door. "This isn't going to be any easier to explain with your sugar low."

"It's just how stasis works." Alexis tried to explain. "She doesn't remember a thing after coming back to the school after spring break." A sympathetic look went to the sleeping girl. "She's going to need a lot of time to adjust to this. I don't even know where to begin."

From Alexis's weary tone, Ian surmised that a subject change was in order and so gestured toward Kareem. "Has he woken up at all yet?"

"In a way. He's a telepath, so he can talk to us mentally when he wants to. But Laurel doesn't know how much damage the stasis did to his body. He may not wake up at all, physically speaking." She trembled at the thought.

"Hey," Ian looked over at Alexis. "That doesn't sound like you. Back in school, you were pretty much the leader of our little group. Laurel's the smart one, but you always found a way to get things done. You, me, and Laurel? I don't think there's anything the three of us can't do."

She couldn't help but smile at him. "That was years ago. I'm not used to telling people what to do anymore. Honestly, I always thought I was kind of a bitch to you and Laurel in school."

Ian nodded, most of his vertigo having receded. "That's why you didn't come to Washington with us, isn't it? And why you stayed away for months at a time?"

That wasn't the whole truth, but it was enough. Alexis couldn't stop a few tears from escaping her eyes and trickling down her face as she nodded. Her first few months of teaching at the Academy had been an eye opener for her; seeing teens acting in much the same way she had with her friends and not really liking what she saw.

Ian put a hand on her shoulder, trying not to tip over in the process. "Look, we never did things we didn't want to do and you never pushed us. You just happened to be really good at coming up with ideas." He looked around the tumbledown room and made a resolute face. "How about we start small; how are we going to get this place fixed up without telling the world we're here?"

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## From There To Here (Part 2)

It was well past midnight, though Cynthia had no idea how late it was exactly. The adults; Alexis, Laurel and Ian had fallen asleep in the makeshift infirmary a few hours ago after several more hours of soft talking behind the closed doors of the former sun porch.

She remained in the upstairs commons; separated from the sun porch by a long hallway that led to four of the smaller guest rooms of the former inn. Not far from her seat on the floor, Warrick Kaine, a scrawny looking Italian, around her age, with scruffy, black hair, sat on the much patched couch.

Since their arrival at Freeland House, the they'd spent most of that time watching the old television that was the only piece of furniture in the upstairs commons aside from the couch. Very little had been said besides arguing over what to watch.

At this hour, the only programs on were infomercials, but neither was very eager to go to sleep after waking up to learn that they had been prisoners of the Academy, held in stasis for reasons not forthcoming.

Cynthia leaned her head back against the couch and looked over at Warrick. He sat cross-legged on the couch, staring at a demonstration of a new kind of vacuum cleaner on the television. After a few moments, he noticed her watching him in the dim light provided by the TV monitor.

"So..." he began, not really knowing what to say to the strange girl. In the half day he'd known her, the sum of the information he knew about her was limited to her name, her lack of appreciation for crime dramas, and the fact that when Laurel stopped at a fast food place to get everyone something to eat, she put away six cheeseburgers.

On top of it all, she looked like no one he'd ever met; five foot eight, with stark, white hair cut off a few inched above the shoulder. Her skin was nearly as white and almost featureless except for the freckles on her face. The weirdest thing about her were her eyes. Warrick knew lots of people with green eyes, but most people's irises had flecks of other colors in them. Cynthia's were pure, uniform green. In a word, she was odd; though in retrospect, Warrick had met far stranger people at the Academy.

"So what?" Cynthia asked after a short silence between the them.

"Um... what are your powers?" Warrick asked. For anyone who spent any time at the Academy, the question was every bit as hackneyed as asking 'what's your sign', but it seemed a less ignorant question than 'so what's with your eyes', which had been Warrick's original question.

Cynthia rolled her eyes. The question was, after all, one she had answered dozens of times in her life. Still, discussing their powers was more interesting that watching a washed up actor babble about 'new suction technology'. "Tell me about yours, first."

"Eh, okay. I control metal. I also have like a metal sense, but it's kind of complicated." Warrick started. His 'metal sense' was hard to explain; it allowed him to 'sense' the composition and condition of elemental metals and their compounds and alloys, but in a way that didn't lend itself to accurate explanation.

"There's a lot to it involving ions and all sorts of other stuff. They said they were going to put me in advanced chemistry classes to teach me, but I woke up in a creepy glass coffin before that happened." There was a pause while he thought of how to explain the more enigmatic side of his powers.

"There's something else I can do... but it'd be a lot easier to just summon them and show you. Did you see any spare metal around here when we came in?"

"Summon?" Cynthia raised an eyebrow. She'd been worried that she was going to sound strange, especially to someone with general elemental powers. Aside from minor telepathy, controlling certain types of matter was the most common power people heard of. Summoning was a new one in her book.

Warrick got up and wandered down the short hall that connected the commons to the open space separating the rooms in the west wing of the house from each other. The area was populated by a now defunct ice machine, a wooden table, placed there long ago for some unknown purpose, and a wire wastebasket.

"Like I said, they're a lot easier to show than explain." He picked up the wastebasket and padded back out to the commons.

"They?" Again, Cynthia's vocabulary was reduced to repeating singular words.

"Yeah, 'they'." Warrick shrugged as if Cynthia knew exactly what he was talking about. With no further commentary, he focused his power on the wastebasket, melting it to slag in his hands. Defying all physics, the liquid blob remained in Warrick's hands instead of running through his fingers as he continued dictating its form. It divided into two roughly equal amounts and slithered up Warrick's arms, forming into intricate bands around his biceps.

"Neat trick," Cynthia sighed as the metal solidified once more. "But that's not exactly summoning anything. That's just your power working on the metal." She couldn't believe that she'd gotten her hopes up that his powers would be interesting.

Warrick held up a finger. "That wasn't the trick. I just need to have some metal around my arms to do it." He cracked his neck for effect, then extended his arms out to the sides. "This is the trick!"

From the moment he wrapped the former wastebasket around his arms, he felt the nascent potential for 'them' to come into being in the back of his head. Bringing them into reality was more a matter of allowing the power to work than actively triggering it.

The bands around his arms pulsed, tightening slightly before changing shape once more. Part of them remained wrapped firmly around his upper arms, but the remainder snaked out into a pair of liquid metal tentacles.

Cynthia goggled. The things certainly weren't acting under the influence of Warrick's power any longer. He wasn't concentrating at all and yet, the tentacles still writhed, seeming to sense their environment.

"Well, here they are. On the left is Isp, and on the right is Osp." Warrick said. "You don't need to be freaked out or anything, they're well behaved."

"Well behaved... tentacles?" Cynthia muttered. "How are you doing that?"

Warrick shrugged, resuming his seat on the couch while the tentacles continued surveying their new surroundings. "I have no idea. Once I summon them, I don't have to do anything unless I want to tell them to do something. They get by pretty well without me telling them what to do."

A tiny part of Cynthia was impressed. A slightly larger part was relieved that his powers were as strange as her own. The majority of her, however, was busy recoiling in confusion as one of the tentacles made its way over to her and began to, for lack of a better word, look her over.

"I don't think she likes that, guys." Warrick said, apparently to the tentacles. He was able to mentally direct them; but he generally felt better speaking to them aloud.

The tentacle backed away from Cynthia and went off to investigate the underside of the couch.

"Okay," Warrick said after a few moments of watching a bewildered Cynthia keeping a wary eye on the tentacles "Now it's your turn."

Forcing herself to ignore the tentacles as they explored the room, Cynthia looked up at Warrick. "From how they explained my powers when I entered the Academy, I'm a 'consummate shapeshifter'." She paused to wait for the inevitable question.

"What's the 'consummate' part about?" Warrick asked on cue.

"It means 'perfect'." Cynthia said, settling back against the couch. "Most shapeshifters have limits; they can only turn into forms they've seen, they can only assume humanoid forms... the more limited ones can just grow claws or change their skin color. Me, on the other hand, my body's basically like clay. I can change shape in any way I want/ Even my immune system changes instantly to adapt to things."

"Sweet." Warrick grinned. "You've got like fifty super powers rolled into one."

"There is a downside, though." She moved to sit on the opposite end of the couch from him. As soon as she was sure she had his attention, she made a few, quick alterations. Her eyes flashed red and she opened her mouth to reveal a pair of sharp fangs and a forked tongue.

The tentacles reacted before Warrick did, lashing into position to defend him even before he could let out a yelp of fear. Cynthia herself jumped back at the sight of the tentacles. After a moment of tense silence, both teens realized what had happened and started laughing.

Cynthia recovered first and reverted to her normal self. "Wow, they're certainly protective of you, aren't they?"

The tentacles slowly calmed and slithered away to continue their exploration. "Yeah, I know it sounds weird, but they're actually really good friends to me." Warrick said, feeling a bit embarrassed. "So what was with the 'bride of Dracula' bit?"

"Sorry, but I did owe you for springing the twins on me." Cynthia grinned mischievously. "Anyway, do you have any idea how much energy it took to make even that tiny little change and go back again?"

"I'm going to guess 'a lot'." Warrick admitted.

"Bingo, Sherlock." Cynthia snorted. "Plus, half of the times I use my powers, its unconscious. Even for little things like minor scrapes, or a cold? My body uses my shapeshifting to deal with it instead of doing things the normal way. To make up for that, my metabolism is insane."

"That explains eating more than the rest of us combined at the takeout place." He noted.

Cynthia nodded. "Pretty much. And that does it for my powers." She glanced over to the TV again. A new program selling exercise equipment was starting. "I still don't feel like going to bed. How about asking another stupid question?"

"It wasn't that stupid a question." Warrick defended himself. "People may ask it a lot, but it's not stupid."

"Fine, I'll ask one then." Cynthia huffed, refusing to deny that Warrick's question was stupid. "Where're you from?"

"Brooklyn." Warrick beamed, as if his accent didn't place him as being from there already. "To tell the truth, I can't wait to get back. I was getting ready to go home for Christmas break before all this happened."

"I think both of us missed Christmas; it's May now." said Cynthia. "I also missed Christmas of '72 in that damn glass box." After a second's thought, she shrugged, "Not that I care. I wasn't going home for break anyhow."

"How come?"

"Let's just say that at home, all my powers amounted to was being about four more mouths to feed." Cynthia grimaced. "Either that, or a humanoid scratching post. I don't' give much of a damn if I ever go back to North Carolina again."

"Jeez, I'm sorry, Cyn." Warrick's expression was serious now. "I didn't mean to bring up a sore topic." Even the tentacles seemed to be feeling sorry for her. Suddenly realizing something, Warrick added. "Er... can I call you Cyn?"

"Actually, I made everyone at the Academy call me Cyn." The white haired girl replied. "And don't feel bad for me; I asked in the first place."

"But –"

"Look, I don't much care for my family, but it's not something I dwell on, okay? I was doing pretty well at the Academy." She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Until they turned out to be evil with the intent to dissect me that is."

Neither teen said anything for some time after that. Finally, Warrick piped up. "Hey, Cyn? What do you think is going to happen now? I mean, they're not going to send us home with the Academy still wanting to do whatever the hell it was they were doing."

Cynthia was very close to falling asleep when Warrick's question roused her. "I don't know. They'll probably think of some way to let our parents know we're okay. Aside from that... I've got no idea. Apparently that Laurel woman's a super genius or something, so I'm sure they'll figure something out."

A few more moments of silence followed.

"Hey, Cyn?" Warrick asked.

"Yeah?" Cynthia asked, pulled once more from the brink of sleep.

"If you don't want to go back to your family once this is all over, you can come to Brooklyn. My family's pretty cool. My mom's in advertising, my dad's a voice actor and they're both really laid back. Plus, my sister's a good kid all in all."

"Heh." The white haired girl gave a small laugh. "Thanks Warrick." As she fell asleep, she wondered if the other people in the house were as decent as the metal controller from New York.

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## From There To Here (Part 3)

Ten Years Earlier...

Melissa closed the door to her dorm room behind her and dropped her suitcase on the floor. It was far too cold outside for spring as far as she was concerned. Being back in her warm dorm room was a treat in and of itself.

The light was already on. Her roommate, Alexis must have already gotten back from holiday. Removing her jacket and tossing it on the back of her computer chair, Melissa walked over to the bathroom door.

"Alexis? It's me. Just letting you know I'm back too, in case you heard the door open." She said to the closed door.

There was no answer.

It was a little odd that Alexis would leave the lights on if she wasn't around. She probably just went down the hall for something. Melissa dismissed her missing roommate quickly as she went over and sat on her bed to take off her shoes. As she did so, the faintest flicker of movement caught her eye.

She looked up and saw only her own reflection in the mirror on the closet door. Something wasn't quite right about the reflection though. It seemed distorted, as if she was looking at the mirror through water. Something in Melissa's head told her to run. Dropping the shoe she'd just taken off, she stood.

"Shit." A voice came from the vicinity of the mirror. There was a click and pain blossomed in Melissa's chest. She looked down to see a dart with a three inch needle protruding from it. The edges of her vision dimmed.

The redhead managed to run a few more steps to the door before her muscles betrayed her and she collapsed. Her last sensation before losing consciousness was of cold metal clamping her arms to her sides.

***

The Present...

Melissa sat up in the wicker chair she had been sleeping in, her eyes bursting open and a gasp escaping her. Instinctively, her hand went to pull out the dart, but found nothing. It was just a dream, she realized. Sighing with relief, she looked at her surroundings.

She remembered the room now, as well as the events leading up to being there. Goose pimples ran up her arms as she recalled waking up in a stasis cell. They only got worse when she recalled who it was that had awakened her.

Her former roommate, Alexis was sprawled over the arm of one of the futons, snoring lightly. Alexis's best friend, the excessively cheerful and smart black girl she even now mistakenly identified as Laura was curled up on the other side of the futon, an innocent smile on her face. The third of the trio that spend most of their spare time in Melissa and Alexis's dorm room; Ian, had situated himself on the floor, head lolling back against the futon. He too was asleep.

People don't change as much as they tend to think. Even in the span of a decade, the trio was instantly recognizable by the redhead.

Melissa shook her head. This wasn't right. She had just seen them... a week ago? She suddenly remembered the date on a bank sign they passed earlier in the day; May 5, 2074. Somehow, over ten years had passed without her noticing.

Tears began to well up in her eyes. She hadn't even lost those years, she'd simply not lived them; lying frozen in time while her friends grew up and life passed her by. She actually surprised herself in calling them her friends. Alexis and company certainly tried to include her, but Melissa less than politely turned them down each time.

She was just getting used to repressing her power (apart from her healing touch), and was having a hard time getting used to people being in genuine high spirits without the stimulating effect she impressed on people with her presence.

She was considering actually taking them up on their offers of friendship when... She began to cry again.

I don't mean to intrude... a voice said, but why are you crying?

Melissa froze and looked around. No one in the room had stirred. Where had that voice come from?

You were crying earlier as well. The voice continued. Discovery of our situation was stressful, I will admit, but even as I am, I am not taking things as hard as you are.

"Who are you?" Melissa said in almost a whisper. "Where are you?"

My name is Kareem ibn Raimi al-Utt. I am currently standing in front of you, but I am currently projected onto the Astral Plane. My body is lying on the couch to your right.

Slowly, Melissa turned and looked at the person lying there. If he had been awake and standing, he would have been tall, dark and handsome in her opinion. As it stood, he was just richly tanned and pleasing to look at.

"That's you?" She asked. "Then how are you talking to me?"

That is my body. Kareem said telepathically. He'd already been over his situation with Laurel and Alexis and feared that he would have to repeat that conversations verbatim to everyone at Freeland House. But I, like you, am gifted. My powers allow me to travel outside of my body, on the Astral Plane and communicate with people's minds.

Melissa's eyes widened. "You can read my mind?"

I can actually read much more than that—though I do my best not to intrude on people's privacy, I can sense emotions, read memories and hear subconscious thoughts that you yourself are not aware of. Inexplicably, Melissa felt a hint of embarrassment from Kareem.

However, my abilities seem to be heightened now that my body is in a coma. I have been having trouble not delving very deeply when I speak to others telepathically.

"What have you gotten from me then?" Melissa asked.

You do not have to speak out loud. I can hear surface thoughts quite clearly.

Melissa frowned, and then concentrated. What have you gotten from me?, she asked again.

As I said, I do try not to delve to deeply... Kareem replied nervously; Please do not think that I am some kind of astral side voyeur because I am not.

Then tell me. Melissa demanded.

There was a sensation of shame from Kareem. I sensed your feeling of loss because of your time in stasis. I also sensed your disdain for your power. If you do not mind my asking; why is it that you disliked making people happy?

Melissa frowned. There was no way that the telepath could understand how it felt to never get an appropriate response to her problems. Her stimulant power had caused nothing but heartache since it had manifested.

I do believe I can understand, Miss Forrester. Kareem said; being able to hear exactly what everyone thinks of oneself is disconcerting to say the least.

I didn't think that to you. Melissa replied suspiciously.

Oh my. I am sorry, Miss Forrester. You just thought it so strongly, I assumed...

I see what you mean about the problems telepathy can cause. Melissa said, trying to soften her mental tone. But really, its nothing compared to having your parents overcome with joy when you bring home all D's, or having your first date break down into a laughing fit in the middle of a kiss. My power is definitely more trouble than it's worth.

I can see how it can feel like a curse, but I can also see the silver linings. Kareem answered. And you do have your healing touch.

Melissa shrugged. Don't remind me. I'm the only healer on record that can use my powers on other people without a blood transfusion. I've been poked, prodded and studied since I was ten because of it.

Miss Forrester, you make my usual optimism very difficult.

Alexis used to say the same thing to me. Melissa allowed herself a chuckle. I've always been more of a realist than an optimist.

The opposite of optimism is pessimism, not realism. Kareem pointed out.

Alexis said that too. I still say realism is close enough to being the opposite. She glanced over at Alexis and sighed. We may not have been friends, exactly, but we used to talk about everything.

Why can you not talk about everything now?

Look at us! Melissa shouted mentally. She's lived a whole other life now. I bet she and Ian are married at this point. She's not going to want to talk until two in the morning with a kid half her age.

Silence followed the next few moments and Melissa began to wonder if she'd chased Kareem away.

There are other people here our age. He eventually returned.

Melissa nodded. She tried her best to ignore them on the trip to Freeland House. The other girl referred to her as 'crazy girl' the entire time, despite repeated admonishments from Laurel, Alexis and the other boy. She had taken an immediate dislike for her.

If you do not like Miss McAllister, you could at least speak to Warrick. Kareem offered.

Why is it, Melissa asked, that you call him by his first name, but me and that other girl as 'Miss'.

Kareem gave a mental shrug. It is just how I was raised. How would you like me to refer to you?

The thought brought a frown to Melissa's face. For most of her life, she had been called 'Missy' by her aunts and grandparents. She certainly didn't like that. Alexis and Ian called her 'lissa almost exclusively. That had been only marginally more tolerable than Missy. For once, she wanted to be just 'Melissa'.

Melissa it is, then. Kareem said before she had even fully completed the thought. Suddenly realizing his faux pas, Kareem sputtered. I am sorry. I did not mean...

It's fine. I just have to get used to thinking about what I think in your direction, I guess.

Thank you for your understanding, Melissa. Kareem said.

Don't mention it. She sent back. Looking over at the sleeping trio and then back to the spot she'd decided to focus on when 'speaking' to Kareem. I think I'm going to try going back to sleep now. It was nice meeting you.

You as well. Kareem said. On the astral plane, he moved away from her as she lay back down in the wicker chair.

***

On his side, the world was rose colored and vaguely translucent. People and other higher organisms were the only things that could be seen in true color and those colors didn't directly correlate to their real world counterparts.

Kareem moved without taking steps, simply gliding through the room and eventually, passing through the doors themselves.

Just outside them was a hallway connecting the sun porch to the upstairs common room. There were doors on either side of it, each leading into one of the inn rooms. Kareem gave them a cursory glance as he floated past, but continued on to the commons.

There he found Warrick and Cynthia passed out on either end of the sofa with the TV still on. He gave them a smile as he floated up and out; onto the roof of Freeland House.

On the astral plane, neither clouds nor pollution marred the night sky, affording the young man an unfettered view of it. The starry panorama never failed to awe and inspire him. Even now, as his body lay useless below him, Kareem felt new hope. Unlike the others, he'd heard Alexis and Laurel discussing the future for the kids they rescued from the Academy.

This, he knew, would be home, at least for a while. And after touching the hearts and emotions of those who lived there, he felt that perhaps there was no better place for them in the world. He floated upwards a bit, to the extent he felt was safe for him to travel from his body and looked back at Freeland House.

In the real world, where time had stripped away decades of work by generations of previous owners as well as countless more years of memories it had played a part in creating, Freeland House was run down and looked barely livable.

But on the astral side, where belief is power and potential is made manifest; Freeland House was glorious.

##

##

## From There To Here (Part 4)

Laurel woke up at seven the next morning, groaning slightly from the aches in her back from sleeping on the futon. Having proper mattresses and, if need be, beds brought in had climbed quickly to the top of her list of priorities.

Indeed, she already had quite a list in her head. Hypercognition was not an ability one could turn on and off and, as a result, she already began figuring out what needed to be done at Freeland House.

Beds were number one now; actually number two, second only to medical devices to treat Kareem's condition. On top of the futons being uncomfortable, she and Alexis already discovered that most of the mattresses in the place had either been removed by the previous owners or had totally dry rotted. The futons themselves had needed to be covered in trash bags to protect Ian and Kareem from possible mold in the cushions.

Appliances were next on the list. A quick survey of the place revealed that only the lights, televisions in the upstairs and downstairs commons, and heating/air-conditioning unit were operational. Most of the rest had either been left to fall into disrepair or taken by the previous owner.

General repairs to the house itself would be trickier...

It occurred to Laurel that she should be recording this all in her notebook computer. It wasn't that she needed it to remember it all; she just felt surer of her ideas once she saw them written out on a screen.

With a yawn and a stretch, she listened to the satisfying cracking sound her back made before reaching for her bag. It wasn't there. A hazy recollection of leaving the bag in the car while Alexis and Warrick were trying to carry Kareem out of the back seat came to her. With one last stretch, she got up and left the sun porch.

The wooden floorboards squeaked slightly under her feet as she walked up the short hall to the upstairs commons. They too would need to be replaced. Laurel had a sinking feeling that everything but the structure would need renovation before everything was said and done. But the floorboards wear merely loose, not rotten, so they fell near the bottom of Laurel's mental list.

Warrick and Cynthia were still asleep on the couch in the commons. Laurel spared them a smile as she switched the television off.

The commons had a staircase on either side leading to the downstairs commons as well as a sliding glass door that led out to the deck overlooking to swimming pool outside. Laurel took the stairs, coming out on the east end of the downstairs commons.

The furniture here had fared better than their upstairs counterparts. Three couches; two upholstered and one made of leather sat in the middle of the room, all facing a coffee table. On the western wall sat an oak dinette set complete with sturdy wooden chairs. A plasma television dominated the northern wall between the staircases.

At least this room needed very little work, Laurel thought. Apart from that, most of the guest rooms needed only new carpeting and beds. The other furniture, if not the fixtures were intact.

Still trying to shake off sleep as well as mentally populating the rooms she passed through for her list, Laurel contemplated checking the rooms in the east wing's first floor as well as the ones on the hallway running behind the stairs. She decided just to get her computer first.

She cut through the kitchen on her way outside. The room had been gutted of everything but the built in cabinets, table and the broken refrigerator. That room was going to cost most of all. Adding everything needed to make the kitchen usable again kept her occupied as she unlocked the side door and stepped out into what was once the garden.

At one time, Freeland House's garden might have rivaled any in the state. Now, all but the hedgerow had died; leaving weed filled plots flanking an overgrown, cobblestone path. A stone bench and dried up pond were the only proof the place of what had been.

Beautification of the property would have to wait until the necessities were taken care of, Laurel's pragmatic side pointed out. Nonetheless, her softer side placed landscaping somewhat ahead of the squeaky floorboards.

The parking lot for Freeland House was just beyond the garden. It was large enough to hold a dozen cars, but only Laurel's sport utility vehicle sat there, parked across four spaces in her haste to get Ian and Kareem inside.

She opened the back door of the huge, silver vehicle and retrieved the wayward messenger bag and headed back into the house. Before she even closed the door, she heard someone coming down the stairs.

"Hello?" Cyn asked, looking around the downstairs commons.

"Good morning, Cynthia. Did you sleep well?" Laurel asked, emerging from the kitchen.

Cyn shrugged.

Laurel smiled. "Don't worry; by the end of the day, you'll have your own bed. No more couches, I promise."

"So then we were right." the girl said. "You guys do plan on keeping us here?"

Laurel sighed. "Don't make it sound as bad as all that. If you really want to take your chances with the Academy, you're free to go." She crossed over to the leather couch. "But I'll be honest with you; I think this place is the best place for the four of you at the moment. You parents simply don't have the ability to deal with people like Prometheus if he should find you. And there's less of a chance that he'll find you here."

"I never said anything about going back to my family." Cyn took a seat on one of the other couches. "But yeah, you're right. After all, you are the super genius."

For a moment, Laurel considered asking what the white haired girl meant about her family, but she decided to leave it alone for the time being. "That's what they tell me."

She opened her computer and switched it on. "In any event, I'm going to try to do my best for you all. All three of us are. But first, let's see what we can do to make this place livable, shall we?"

"I hope that's Laurel-speak for 'I've already ordered real beds and they'll be here soon'." Ian said, coming down the stairs. He'd found time to wash the blood out of his dark brown hair, but still wore his slashed and blood blackened shirt. A five-o'clock shadow made him look far older than he was.

"Not yet, my computer's still trying to find the wireless internet frequency for Mayfield." Laurel replied.

"But they will be here soon, right?" He sat across from Cyn and shot both women a grin. "Not that I didn't mind sleeping between two hot women last night, but that sofa is the worst bed ever. It even smells funny."

"Yes, Ian." Laurel said.

Ian suddenly acted as if he'd just seen Cyn. "Oh, hey... Cynthia, right?"

"Everyone can just call me Cyn, if you don't mind." She gave him a quizzical look. "You really don't act like a guy who just got the crap kicked out of him and now has a bunch of Academy Enforcers on his trail."

Ian looked to Laurel. "She's an optimistic one, isn't she?"

Laurel gave a small shrug.

With a sigh, Ian turned back to Cyn. "I guess you and all the others pretty much know what's going on then? I was pretty... well bloody and unconscious on the car ride here." When she nodded, he continued. "The important thing right now is that we're all safe, okay?

"We're going to try to deal with this whole deal with the Academy quickly, but it may take a long time. I'm really sorry for all this – especially since it was my idea in the first place, but it's better than being in those stasis cells another year."

Cyn nodded. "That's true. I guess you guys just want us to try not to get underfoot while you three try to find a way to fix things then?"

Ian nodded. "We're not going to try to be your parents" he gave Laurel a sidelong look. "At least I'm not going to."

The conversation was cut short as Warrick stumbled down the stairs. The tentacles had wrapped most of their length around his arms, but about two feet of each still waved in the air, occasionally grabbing the sides of the banister to steady him. It wasn't his entrance that had cut off conversation, but the determined look on his face.

The young man certainly didn't cut an imposing figure; he only topped five feet, six inches because of the unkempt mass of brown-black hair on his head and he probably didn't weight more than 120 pounds soaking wet. Even the tentacles looked very non-threatening. In fact, their current attempts to take in all of the downstairs commons at once made them look comical.

But the young man had come downstairs with a purpose; that much was clear from the look in his eyes. It was a deeply soulful look that barely fit with the goofy guy Cyn remembered watching television with the night before. They looked like the eyes of a man who had gazed into his own destiny and found that he was missing something vital, something he would not be complete without.

"I need eggs." Warrick finally said to no one in particular, possibly the tentacles themselves.

Cyn snorted in spite of herself.

Laurel stifled her own laughter before speaking. "I'm going to head down to the Burger Builders down the street in a little bit to get everyone breakfast. Why don't you come over here and talk with us?"

Warrick shrugged and headed over to sit next to Cyn. "Is this about us staying here while you guys deal with all of this stuff with the Academy?"

"Not anymore." Laurel said, "Apparently all of you reached that conclusion on your own, so there's not a lot of point to repeating myself."

"As long as I get to let my family know I'm okay." Warrick shrugged. "I can't image what my sister must have gone through; Christmas without her big brother and all."

"I'll see what we can do." Laurel said, trying to keep the conversation upbeat. "In the meantime... those are new." She pointed to the tentacles. The one around Warrick's left arm turned toward her as if it was being questioned.

"He made them last night." Cyn said. "I think they're alive."

Warrick gave another shrug. "I've had them pretty much since my first started using my powers. I figure we got separated when they jammed my in that coffin thing." He idly teased Osp by waving his finger in front of it.

"So are they alive?" Ian asked. "They act like it."

"No idea." Warrick said. "My advisor at the Academy said they worked off my subconscious or something."

"Your powers are weird." Cyn smirked. "Not that I'm one to talk."

It was Ian's turn to laugh. "Don't worry too much about. Except for Laurel, I don't think any of us have your garden variety 'super powers'. I still don't understand Alexis's. She can turn invisible, she flies, and whenever she does she turns into a shadow."

"Even I don't want to get into the whole 'black heat' thing." Laurel added.

She started typing furiously and for the next few moments, the only sounds were of keys clacking. "And that does it for the mattresses I've also ordered the medical equipment we need for Kareem. So, since we're all going to be living here; is there anything special you all want for your rooms?"

"I don't have any money..." Warrick started.

"Money's not going to be a problem; I've already back-doored my way into my bank account." Laurel grinned. "I've already listed the basics; sheets, pillows, computer equipment, a couple of my favorite games so we can LAN..."

"You have the best priorities." Ian snickered.

"Ain't that a little much to be spending on kids you don't even know?" Warrick asked, immediately earning himself an elbow in the ribs courtesy of Cyn.

Cyn glared at him for a minute. "Actually, he does have a good point, aside from looking a gift horse in the mouth; how can you afford to blow thousands of dollars just to keep us occupied?"

"Ever hear of Brant Industries?" Ian asked, giving Warrick a sympathetic look. There was a lot of his high school self in the boy.

"A little, I guess." said Cyn. "They make armor and tanks and stuff. Nothing that has anything to do with us."

"Well they have a lot to do with you now." Laurel directed a warm smile at her as she continued typing. "This place – Freeland House – is sort of a gift to all of us from my father, the owner."

"That's really generous of him." Warrick said. "Generous of both of you, really."

"That's just how they are." Ian grinned. "Laurel takes after her dad and they both take good care of the people they care about." He stretched out on his couch. "She's a good role model for the rest of us."

"Notice how I'm not putting my shoes up on the couch." Laurel chided.

Ian chuckled and sat back up. "See what I mean?"

***

Back on the sun porch, the sun tried valiantly to pierce through the layers of grime and mildew on the windows and failed spectacularly. Only the thinnest slivers of light illuminated the room.

From the astral side, Kareem barely noticed. What he did notice was Melissa was trying to pretend to be asleep while Alexis tended to Kareem's physical body. He could have told her that he was fine; or at least as fine as he could be. His only concern was how long his body could survive without food.

Melissa worried him though. He couldn't bear the feelings of apprehension and outright fear he received from her whenever Alexis glanced in her direction.

Why are you so afraid of speaking with her? He asked the redhead. Was she not your friend?

This time, she gave much less of a start at his sudden presence in her mind. She used to be. She replied, but that was a long time ago in her mind.

You cannot go on like this. Kareem said; you know as well as I that living here will not be a temporary arrangement. Avoiding her will be impossible. Is it not better that you speak to her on your own terms?

I will, Melissa gave a mental nod, just not now, okay? Kareem gave a nod of his own.

Across the room, Alexis had satisfied herself that Kareem was in no danger and looked across the room at Melissa. She was the only other person in the room, aside from the comatose young man.

She wanted to go and comfort her; to try and explain everything that had happened; almost as much as she wanted to quietly slip from the room without waking her so as to avoid the entire thing.

Miss Keyes? It is me, Kareem. A voice said in her head. Kareem previously spoke to her just after she pulled him from the stasis cell, so her reaction was less severe than Melissa's.

Yes, Kareem? Do you need something? Alexis asked, owing the ease of doing so to her previous work with young telepaths at the Academy.

I could not help but overhear your thoughts about Melissa. I think it is best that you not speak with her just yet. She is still very upset and confused right now.

Alexis nodded, both mentally and physically. I think I'll take your word for it. Thanks for looking out for her.

It is my pleasure, Miss Keyes. I am aware of your previous relationship with Melissa and do not wish to see your bond broken.

You're a really sweet boy, Kareem. You're going to be a real lady killer once you wake up from that coma, aren't you?

I do not put much hope in that, Miss Keyes, but thank you.

Hey, Alexis thought, you need to be more optimistic here. If I know Laurel, she's already working on something to help you.

I would be most appreciative. Kareem said.

With a final salutation, Alexis left the room, leaving Kareem to muse to himself on the astral plane. The echoes of feelings left in Freeland House on the astral side could not be denied. Something about the place attracted good people and the new residents of Freeland House; the gifted descendants of a time long past were no exception.

End Issue #0

#

#

#

#

# Issue #1: Life Savers, Inc

##

##

## Life Savers, Inc (Part 1)

Cyn sighed and glared at Warrick as he sat across from her, drinking a soda and reading a comic. They were sitting at an outdoor table outside a Burger Builders restaurant in Mayfield. They had taken a cab into the city around noon to spend the hot May afternoon exploring.

"What?" Warrick asked, finally noticing the glare over his _Prelates of New York_ comic. He was wearing cargo shorts, a black T-shirt advertising the dates of the band _Ladies of Armageddon_ 's _One World Ripping_ tour, and a flat, wide brimmed hat.

"You need to get rid of that stupid hat." Cyn took a bite out of the last of her four Triple Thick cheeseburgers. "It's embarrassing."

Warrick closed his comic, frowning. "No way! I just bought this! Besides, I need the shade; its pretty damn hot out."

"Well roll your sleeves up more or something. Anything's better than wearing that stupid thing. The white haired girl grimaced. "I don't even know how you can see with the brim over your eyes like that."

"I can see fine." Warrick sniffed. "And you know I can't roll my sleeves up." He didn't have to say why; Cyn was well aware that Warrick's metallic tentacles were coiled in concealment beneath the t-shirt's sleeves. "Also, you don't see me complain about the stuff you buy."

"All I bought was a couple pairs of earrings and some flat format discs of some good movies." Cyn pointed out.

"A 'couple' of pairs;" Warrick snorted, "You bought six pairs!"

Cyn crossed her arms and sniffed. "Like you're one to talk; you bought nothing but FF discs and comic books. Why do you bother reading about fictional people with powers when you know _actual_ people with powers?"

"You're thinking of _Taskforce: Earth_. _Prelates_ take real life prelates from New York City and uses them in comic adventures."

"It's still mostly fake." Cyn pointed out. "There's no way that those guys are doing something exciting enough to write a comic book about every month. I bet that most days they end up just doing jobs that real cops could do anyway."

"Probably;" Warrick said, "but still, it's really cool that there's guys out there like..." He noticed some passersby within earshot. "You know – anyway, they use their powers to do good and I think that's pretty damn cool."

"It would be nice to use my powers for something more than reaching high shelves and freaking Melissa out." Cyn nodded, popping the last morsel of her meal into her mouth. "Come on; let's check out Wagner Park. I wonder if they have skate ramps."

Warrick stowed his comic in his bag while Cyn was throwing her trash away. "You skateboard?"

"If they have ramps, I'll try." She grinned.

"You'll try anything once, won't you?" Warrick adjusted his hat as the pair struck off toward the park.

"It's the only way to live, Warrick. What's the point of doing anything if you don't take risks?"

"Surviving?"

"Smart ass."

The two chatted back and forth in general for the next few blocks before Cyn spotted a crowd gathering in the shadow of a skyscraper. "Hey, what's going on over there?"

Warrick shrugged. "I don't know are they protesting something? I don't even know what building that is." They headed toward the forming throng of people.

"Oh my god..." Cyn followed the gazes and pointing fingers in the crowd up to the fifteenth story.

The skyscraper sported a pair of external glass elevators which scaled the heights on magnetic rails. One of those elevators had come wrenched free of one of its magnetic tracks and swung violently sideways, held in place only by the force of magnetism from the rails and a few bolts. An intermittent shower of sparks indicated that it was only a matter of time before the electricity failed and the magnet with it.

Two men and a woman in business suits were pressed against the glass wall of the elevator, which had suddenly become a floor.

"Someone's got to do something." Warrick said.

"The fire department has to be on their way." Cyn murmured, watching the wayward structure sway slightly as another burst of sparks came from the device.

Warrick's metal sense told him that the remaining bolts connecting the elevator to its coupling would sheer before the magnetic rail did. There were only a few minutes before the stress in them was too great. "They won't make it in time." He said. "We've got to do something."

"Huh? Wait a minute Warrick, with the Academy looking for us, we can't –"Cyn protested as Warrick grabbed her arm and led her into a nearby alley.

"Look;" Warrick said, stepping behind a dumpster and removing his shirt. "Those people don't have a chance if we wait for the fire department. There are only two people here that can save them in time and that's us." He tied the shirt around his head so that only his eyes were visible.

"Are you even listening to yourself? This is prelate type stuff." Cyn said. "Being a prelate is the exact opposite of lying low and hiding from the Academy."

"Which is why I'm hiding my face. There's plenty of metal controllers, so one showing up in Mayfield isn't going to surprise them."

"Hmm..." Cyn pondered. "You do have a point. We can't let them die; plus being a prelate would be pretty exciting. But what am I going to do for a disguise? I'm not taking off my shirt."

"Cyn... you're a shapeshifter."

"Point." The white haired girl said. "Go ahead then. I'll be right behind you – I just need to think of something useful to turn into."

Warrick nodded, allowing the tentacles to stretch out to their full length. "Don't take too long, those bolts are almost done for." With that, he instructed the tentacles to start climbing the adjacent wall, carrying him behind them.

Gaining the top of the building connecting to the alleyway, Warrick focused his metal sense on the elevator across the street. The bolts were at their breaking point. Warrick grit his teeth, took a running start and leapt toward the building with the elevator; telling the tentacles to do whatever they could to help.

Striking out for purchase, the tentacles formed their leading edges into rigid harpoons. Both struck home just below the elevator access on the seventeenth floor and pulled Warrick to them.

Holding on to the lip of the access panel, Warrick willed the metal there to soften, granting him a better handhold. Then he took his first look down. The height was dizzying, and he had to force himself to focus on the elevator instead of the gawking crowd below.

The doors to the elevator itself were still closed, sealing the elevator patrons from rescue. Worse, one of the bolts snapped at just that instant. The others groaned under the new stress as the people inside screamed.

Trusting the tentacles to keep him in place, Warrick ordered them to lower him down toward the elevator. At the same time, he forced his powers onto the doors, melting them open and using the excess metal to strengthen the creaking bolts.

"Who are you?" one of the men in the elevator exclaimed, suddenly confronted by a bizarre looking man with a cloth covered head.

"I'm here to save you." Warrick held out a hand. "Grab on, there's not much time!"

Realizing his predicament, the man did so, his weight painfully straining Warrick's underdeveloped arms.

Grunting with exertion, Warrick started to tell the tentacles to haul him up, but the sudden shift in weight caused the wires holding the magnet in place to spark again, and the structure began to sway violently. The bolts positively screamed, even given the reinforcement Warrick had provided.

"Shit!" Warrick exclaimed out loud. He wondered where Cyn was. She would be a big help at this point.

Fighting through the pain in his left arm, he looked up to the elevator access door and directed a single, violent pulse of his power at it. The metal screeched as Warrick peeled it open, providing a hole into the building.

"I'm really, really sorry about this, mister." He mentally told the tentacle on his left arm to grab his passenger, "but there's not a lot of time."

The unlucky man didn't have time to ask what Warrick was sorry about before the tentacle circled his waist and lifted him none too gently to the safety of the seventeenth floor. By now, the other two patrons now saw what was going on and were panicking even more than before.

Feeling the last of the bolts reach their breaking point, Warrick immediately told the tentacle to grab another. It did as directed and pulled the screaming woman to safety as the elevator gave way. Both Warrick and the remaining victim screamed as the elevator car began its freefall in a shower of sparks.

Thinking fast, Warrick focused his power on the access door on the floor below, unraveling it and forming it into a scoop in hopes to catch the errant elevator. It worked for a moment, but the glass wall shattered in the process, throwing the still screaming patron into empty space.

Something golden flashed on the edge of Warrick's vision.

"Gotcha." Cyn shouted as she caught hold of the man's leg, ending his freefall. Her current form bore enormous, golden wings, which held her similarly golden body aloft. Her body itself was streamlined for faster flight and her head was covered in some sort of gold colored cowl, which gave the impression that she was bald.

The man she had caught, however, didn't seem to take any notice to such attention to detail; preferring instead to continue screaming.

Shifting her grip so as not to drop him, Cyn deposited him on the roof of the building Warrick had jumped from. Alas, even being firmly on stable ground didn't convince the man to cease pleading for his life.

"Hey!" Cyn finally shouted. "Look around you; you're safe now. You're not going to die anymore."

Her tone finally made the man aware of his changed fortunes. He looked around the roof and slowly came to realize that he was staring up at what appeared to be a golden angel. "Who are you?" He murmured.

"Would you believe the local neighborhood watch?" Cyn smirked.

"You're one of those psionics, aren't you?" He said, starting to edge away. "I saw a special on TV about ones that don't work with the government and –"

"We prefer 'prelate', actually." Cyn said. "And you can call me... hmm, what's a good name?" She pounded a fist into her open palm. "Facsimile! That's perfect. You can tell everyone that you were saved by the great and powerful Facsimile."

She was so wrapped up in her delusions of granduer that she didn't hear the light 'thud' behind her. "Saved him all by yourself, eh, Facsimile?" a familiar voice said.

She turned to see Warrick, rubbing his sore arm. "Oh, how could I forget, my sidekick –"

"Partner." Warrick gave her a withering look.

"Junior partner –"Cyn teased.

"Full partner." Warrick said, poking her in the side. The tentacles wrapped themselves lazily around his arms, apparently tired from their activity.

"Yeah, my full partner, The Alloy." Cyn grinned.

The terror was slowly draining from the rescued man. "I never heard of a team of... you kind of people before."

Warrick and Cyn glanced at each other. "Erm, that would be because we're the first." Cyn said. "We're..."

Warrick grinned and stepped in front of Cyn. "We're Life Savers, Inc." He said proudly.

***

The headline in the morning edition of the _Mayfield Scribe_ read 'Prelates in Mayfield?' with the subheading of 'Billionaire and associates rescued with the help of supernatural powers'. The accompanying article featured an interview with technology mogul Lester Mendel, CEO of ConquesTech, a major east coast corporate empire and one of the three people saved the previous day.

The news was the talk of the city by now and speculation as to the identities of Alloy and Facsimile abounded. Mayfield was excited by the news of its new prelates.

That is to say, most of Mayfield was excited. High above the city streets, in a penthouse office, one man was very, very upset.

One reader of the _Scribe_ lowered the newspaper from his eyes, nervously aware of the shaking in his hands as he did. His gaze was instantly met by the steely blue gaze of his employer. "Well?" the other man demanded.

The room itself had been built to intimidate; from its tall book shelves, to the two suits of medieval armor that flanked the door, to the various implements of war, ranging from flails and swords, to an elephant gun and a purportedly operational LAW rocket launcher, which graced the walls and pedestals. But even the whole of the room was not as intimidating as the man that called the place his office.

Vincent Liedecker's public face was of an independently wealthy sportsman and philanthropist, the heir to his father John's industrial fortune. But the man currently holding the newspaper, a man known only as Brill, knew that Liedecker was the most powerful man in the entire Mayfield underworld. An arms dealer of national renown, Liedecker was the kind of man that was likely to spill blood if he didn't get the answer he wanted.

"This looks pretty bad, Mr. Liedecker." Brill said nervously.

Liedecker casually picked up the kukri blade he used as a letter opener and idly drew his thumb along the edge. "Of course it looks bad, Brill, you baboon of a man." He spoke in a soft southern drawl that belied how dangerous he was. "But do you know just how bad it is?"

"They're going to cause trouble." Brill said, choosing his words carefully, "it'll be like having a second police force in town."

"Police, we can handle, Brill." Liedecker said, turning the knife over in his hand. "Police need warrants and planning. We can plant spies among them; learn of upcoming raids ahead of time." He stood up and began pacing the room, weapon still in hand.

"In a pinch, Brill, they and judges can be bribed. With prelates, things are far, less certain. They can come from nowhere and just destroy a whole shipment as soon as not. Do you have any idea what these crackpots like Infinity or The Shade are doing to New York and Los Angeles?"

Brill shook his head in the negative.

Liedecker's knuckles turned white from his grip on the kukri. "They are having an _impact_!" Liedecker snarled, launching the weapon across the room where it stuck, quivering, in the spine of _Dante's Inferno_. "A hell of an impact, Brill. The Staveletti family's folded completely, Alfonse Krieger is in jail, and Charles Prince's entire operation in Chicago is in ruins – all because of these prelates – these vigilantes."

"Well, uh..." Brill, a naturally nervous and dense man, had already tried to find something to say and failed. "What are we going do about them, boss?"

The arms dealer stalked over to where his knife had landed and retrieved it. "First, we keep our involvement in this as low as possible. Contract out to someone through the usual channels; we need some out-of-towners."

He returned to his desk and began going through his rolodex. "We'll have someone put these poor little piss-ants down before they get a chance to take root."

##

##

## Life Savers, Inc (Part 2)

Less than a ten minute drive from downtown Mayfield, VA lay the suburb of Hill Springs, affectionately referred to by its citizens as The Hills. Once it was what could be called an upper class neighborhood, a place for the rich to play in relative privacy without being too far from the city; but the sprawl of Mayfield had encroached and chased the wealthy away, making way for middle class housing and commerce centers. Still, some remnants of the days of magnates and vacationing celebrities clung to existence, barely visible.

Atop a hill located off a disused road behind the Perfect Brew coffee house and the scrapbook supply shop rather un-creatively dubbed 'Scrapbook Supplies', one such building stood. For most of the year, it was screened by the stands of cherry trees planted along the front gate; accessible either by the daunting stone steps that led to the front, or by the winding driveway that eventually found its way into the private parking lot. That building was called Freeland House.

Construction had been taking place for the past few weeks; tarps stretched in place around the areas currently under renovation, a few stacks of lumber sat idle on the stone patio out front,and empty crates and boxes from various appliances were in the construction dumpster in the yard. Ever so slowly, Freeland House was being reborn.

Warrick paid none of it any attention as he finally reached the summit of the stairs. He was too tired from the long climb to care. With the construction workers coming and going as they pleased during the daylight hours of the weekdays; Alexis had placed a moratorium on any of the Freeland House residents using their powers anywhere except their own rooms until the renovations were complete. This, of course, meant that Warrick had to climb the stairs under his own power, rather than have his tentacles carry him, as he was accustomed to.

Pausing to catch his breath, he opened the bag he had been carrying and checked its contents. Despite his less than delicate handling of them on the climb, none of the glazed donuts in the bag showed any signs of damage.

"These better be the best damn donuts ever." Warrick frowned. If he had remembered how tiring the return trip would be, he certainly wouldn't have made a special trip to the bakery to get them.

"Language, young Warrick." Ian said in an almost comedic stern voice. He was coming out of the front door with the crumpled remains of a large, cardboard box in his hands.

"Huh? Oh, sorry, Mr. Smythe;" Warrick ducked his head apologetically. "I didn't see you there."

The older man snorted. "You do realize I was joking right?" He tossed the box onto a pile of the same in the dumpster. Frowning at the bewildered look on the teen's face, Ian slapped a palm on his forehead and he shook his head. "Seriously, I don't care how you talk around here."

Seeing Warrick's nodded response, Ian shrugged. "Forget it, okay? I just set up the new pool table; you play?"

"A little;" Warrick said, "There was a pool hall down the street from home, but it wasn't the friendliest place if you know what I mean."

"You got hustled, didn't you?" Ian asked, following Warrick into the house.

"Pretty much, yeah." Warrick muttered. "Not that I had a lot of money to bet."

The pool table resided on the south end of the downstairs commons, across from the TV. Four cues lay across it, fresh out of the box with the box containing the balls, rack and chalk beside them.

The pair played the first game with little fanfare; Ian easily beating Warrick. Determined not to be humiliated, Warrick battled back in the second game and was a thirteen and an eight ball away from victory when Ian blindsided him.

"Hear about those prelates that saved the head of ConquesTech the other day?" the older man asked as Warrick prepared to shoot. The cue ball bounced off the table as Warrick's shot went wild. Smirking with satisfaction, Ian arrested the ball's movement and placed it back on the table.

"How'd you find out?" Warrick stammered. It had been two days since he and Cyn had engaged in their little stint of heroics and both had agreed to keep things quiet. After two full days of no mention, he had figured they were in the clear.

"Did you really believe that I wouldn't put two and two together when a winged woman and a guy with metal tentacles save a bunch of people a couple weeks after a shapeshifter and a kid with metal tentacles move in here?"

"I was kind of hoping it wouldn't make the papers..." Warrick admitted. "Does Ms. Keyes know?" He suddenly looked around, half expecting the raven haired woman to descend upon him to scold him as she typically did when he broke her 'no powers' rule.

"You got lucky, kid." Ian said, shouldering his cue. "Alexis gets all of her news from the internet and Laurel spends so much time working on all of her projects that she hardly ever pays attention to current events." He noted Warrick's nervous glances. "They're not here. Laurel dragged all the girls into the city to 'bond' – that's code for shopping if I ever heard it – and it's just you me and Kareem holding down the fort for the time being." He paused and glanced around. "At least I think Kareem's here. I can never tell."

"How am I lucky?" Warrick said. "You're not mad?"

Ian snorted. "Are you kidding? You and Cyn saved three people's lives. How the hell can I be mad at that?"

"Because we weren't supposed to use our powers in public and we may have made it easier for the Academy to find us? Those are the reasons Ms. Keyes gave us."

"Oh, Alexis would be pissed if she found out. No doubt about it." Ian said. "She got mad at me for way, way less stupid things when we were younger."

"You mean you're not going to tell her?" Warrick gulped at even the idea of what Alexis would do if she found out about he and Cyn's vigilantism. "Even if it was stupid of us?"

"Kid, I think you aren't quite aware of who you're talking to. I'm the one that suggested that we break into an Academy building to save you four. Look; did you do something stupid? Yes, very much. However; did you do something right? Also yes. Understand?"

"Not really." Warrick said honestly.

"Okay, I'll go slower then." He wandered over to one of the couches and sat on the arm. "Alexis is probably right that you two shouldn't be using your powers in public. That's basic, simian common sense and it's for your own good, for true." He tossed the cue over his shoulder, onto the couch.

"But the thing is – at least in my experience – sometimes 'for your own good' is outweighed by other things. In this case, not letting a bunch of people go splat when you can do something to stop it."

Warrick nodded and leaned on the pool table.

"It's actually a lot easier to just do as you're told than to take a risk and do some good. I'm proud of you two for doing what you did." Ian finished.

"So... you don't mind if we keep up with the whole 'Lifesavers Inc' thing?"

"I didn't say that." Ian said. "This time was okay because it was an emergency and lives were at stake. We can't have you two running around stopping petty muggings and crap though. Plus, Alexis is bound to find out sometime if you two keep this up."

Warrick lowered his head unhappily. He hadn't actually expected an official go ahead, but it was still disappointing.

"On the other hand," Ian continued, "lots of people die in the city every year. I would bet that a lot of those would be considered emergencies... hmm..." He shrugged. "Anyway, good game kid, I need to run down the hill to grab some lunch and some clothes for the trip."

He feigned realization as he headed for the door. "By the way, Alexis and I will be heading to Florida next week to follow up some Academy dirt Laurel dug up. I hope you kids will be okay with just Laurel here. You know – without Alexis keeping an eye out?"

With that, Ian was out of the house and Warrick was left alone, blinking in confusion. "He didn't just tell me exactly when we can get away with doing prelate work;" The metal controller muttered to himself. "Did he?"

***

That night, a storm front moved in over Mayfield and its surrounding suburbs. Driving rain reduced visibility to nil and forced most sensible people inside for the night. It also made a constant, drumming cacophony on the windows of the warehouse Brill now traversed.

Tenth Street Shipping was one of Liedecker's many front operations, though unlike Moore Cinemas or any of his dozen restaurants in the city, TSS made no real attempts to maintain operations. The ever expanding lab facilities made that increasingly impossible.

"I've always done a good job for the boss, right Brill?" the man following him asked, absently. Calvin 'Scuff' Singer was, by nature just as nervous as Brill was around Liedecker. The difference was that Scuff had never been to TSS and had the rising fear that this place was a body dump for people who had outlived their usefulness to the arms dealer. "I'm always on time... I've never been arrested... A-and you know I'm totally loyal."

Brill nodded. He was fairly sure he knew exactly what was panicking Scuff, but letting the man squirm appealed to him. "The boss knows, Scuff. And he appreciates all that you've done for the operation. He just thinks there's a better place for you right now."

A chill ran up Scuff's spine at that. He combed his fingers through his black hair nervously. "What kind of p-place, Brill?"

"Oh, a good place, Scuff. One worthy of you, see? Say, you were in the army a while back, right?"

"A-air Force, actually." Scuff said, peering warily around at the endless rows of shipping crates and up to the high ceiling that was completely lost in the shadows.

"Oh yeah," Brill said, stopping at a forklift. "Air Force. You were a pilot, right?"

"Light jump jet." The terrified man replied. "You know; recon, first strike, nothing special. Brill, why are you asking that?"

Brill stepped around the forklift and pushed the crate behind it aside, revealing a set of concrete stairs leading down into a darkened room.

Scuff yelped. "Wait, what is this, Brill? I didn't do anything wrong..."

"Stop pissing yourself, Scuff and follow me." Brill said. "I'm not going to kill you." He headed down the stairs and opened the door. Shivering in a non-existent draft, Scuff followed.

It took Brill a moment to find the switch and when he did, the single, bare light bulb did little to illuminate the room. The place was referred to among Liedecker's inner circle as the 'showroom'; a place where clients could view the fruits of the lab's labor without risking anyone finding out exactly where the lab was hidden.

Tonight there was only one crate in the showroom; a huge, nine foot box that resembled a casket in ways that stirred even more fear in Scuff. Brill however, simply continued about his job, moving to the side of it and waiting for Scuff to come closer.

"Come on, Scuff;" Brill mocked. "It's not every day that the boss gives anybody a damn thing, much less an eighty million dollar prize."

"Eighty million dollars? What the hell are you talking about, Brill?" Scuff set his jaw angrily. It was one thing to try to kill him, but to mock him as well was infuriating.

"That's what I said, Scuff. Take a look." With that, Brill hauled hard on the crate lid, pushing it to the side and revealing its contents.

Scuff gasped. "He's seriously giving this thing to me? I've read about something like this in the paper, but..."

"Mr. Liedecker doesn't play around, Scuff. There is a catch though."

Scuff leaned over the crate, placing a hand on the cool, black surface of the device. "This thing isn't even supposed to exist for another five years..."

"Yeah, but that's because of things like tests, government approval – shit Mr. Liedecker doesn't care too much about. The best part; Brant Industries doesn't even know it's gone."

"Do you have any idea what I could do in this thing, Brill? Especially if all the weapons work?"

"That's what Mr. Liedecker's counting on." Brill said.

Scuff's face fell. "Right, the catch you mentioned."

"Don't be like that, Scuff." Brill sneered. "Don't think of it as paying to fly; think of it as getting Mr. Liedecker's help to give this little lady a test run."

"That doesn't tell me what I have to do."

"You read the paper, Scuff?" Brill asked, as if changing the subject.

"Sometimes, yeah..." was the hesitant response.

"Then you should know exactly what I'm talking about. Some bad front page news?"

"You're talking about the prelates?" Scuff snorted. "There's no way. One of them was shaping metal; he'd just crush me like a bug in this thing."

"Look again, pal." Brill said, rapping a fist on the device in the crate. "That's not titanium, its ceramic and carbon. No metal involved."

Scuff nodded. "Hmm... that just about evens the playing field, doesn't it?" He had to admit, he was intrigued by the idea of him being known as the man that put and end to the prelates of Mayfield.

"Should I tell Mr. Liedecker that we've got a deal?" Brill asked.

Scuff nodded. "Yeah, we do. I can't say I can pass this up."

"Excellent." Brill said. "I knew we had the right man for the job. So, what are you going to name your new toy?"

Both men looked down into the crate where the jet black suit of powered armor lay. A set of ebon wings, shaped vaguely like those of a jet, were folded along its sides, framing its eight foot length. Even with all of its weapons retracted, the machine cut an imposing form.

Nodded at his new weapon, Scuff grinned. "I'm thinking... Sky Tyrant."

##

##

## Life Savers, Inc (Part 3)

Melissa sat on her new bed and looked out the window. From her room, she could see the entirety of the Hills and Mayfield beyond. As the shadows lengthened into twilight, the lights of the city would be coming on soon.

"Nice, ain't it?" a voice said, far too close to her for comfort.

With a shriek, Melissa whirled around, a fist ready to strike. The blow never came as she recognized who the voice belonged to. "Warrick?! Get out of my room!"

"Hey! The door was open. It's not like I broke in or something." Warrick shrugged. "You've got to learn to relax, 'lissa; otherwise, you're never going to get a guy to like you." He winked at her as he unwrapped a snack cake and took a bite.

"H-hey... who said I wanted a guy to..." Melissa started.

"You call me, Melissa? I – what the hell?!" a voice came from the door. It was Warrick... the real Warrick this time. The ever present tentacles around his arms seemed to do a double take at the second Warrick in the room.

The Warrick next to Melissa chuckled. "Gotcha both." His form shifted and melted into the petite, white haired form of Cyn.

"Cyn!?" Melissa exclaimed. "Why would you do something like that?"

Cyn took another bite of her snack cake. "Because you need to loosen up a little. Staring out the window when you could be being social and playing a game or something with us. We bought a Game Server for a reason, you know."

"That doesn't explain why you had to use my body to do it." Warrick said flatly, leaning on the doorframe. The left metallic tentacle wrapped around his arm snaked out and quietly began to explore the room.

"Felt like it." Cyn said with an equally flat tone. "Now come on out to the common room, 'lissa, you never talk to anyone and it is way past time that changed." She grabbed the other girl's arm and tried to drag her from the room.

Melissa wrenched her arm free and glared at Cyn. "Am I the only one not ignoring the whole 'no powers' thing Alexis laid down?"

"Poor girl." The white haired girl smiled, "One, Alexis and Ian left around noon for Florida. And two, the work crew has gone home for the day. There's really no good reason for us not to totally abuse our powers given this opportunity."

"Like I care." Melissa frowned, sitting back down on her bed. "My powers are useless anyway."

Cyn grimaced. "Am I the only one who finds it ironic that the girl with mood enhancing powers likes nothing better than to bring down a room?"

"That wasn't very nice." Warrick said. "Come on, Cyn; let's leave her alone if she wants to be left alone." He sent one of the tentacles to grab Cyn by the arm. "Melissa, when you feel like hanging out with us, you know where we'll be."

Melissa managed a small smile as the tentacle responded to Cyn's attempt to struggle free by physically lifting her out of the room. "Thanks, Warrick."

"Don't mention it." The door closed behind him.

***

Cyn pouted at Warrick and rubbed the arm the tentacle had lifted her by. It didn't hurt at all, but she rubbed it mostly for theatrics. "What was that about?" She demanded, stalking after him across the open area between rooms to his room.

"You've got to stop harassing her so much." Warrick said. "You've heard from Laurel how she used to be. The more you try to push her, the more she's just going to get bitchy with you."

"That's part of the challenge." Cyn admitted. "Plus, she needs a friend here."

"She's got a friend here; Kareem." Warrick pointed out. "They talk all the time. Well, think to each other – whatever. The point is, she doesn't have to hang out with us if she doesn't want to."

"Yes, she does." Cyn pouted harder. "Death Gate Ultimate is always best with four players and we're lucky that Laurel games as much as she does to get us up to three. And I'm not joining a guild to pad our delve group."

"What if I told you I could come up with an idea that's more fun than hitting level seventy on Death Gate?" he entered his room and immediately headed for his closet

Cyn sat on his bed cross-legged and finished her snack cake. "I'd say you're a damn liar."

"You say that now," Warrick grinned. "But you haven't heard what Ian told me the other day."

***

Smoke billowed out from the tenth floor of an office building three blocks south of the huge ConquesTech business campus, marring an otherwise picturesque mid-afternoon skyline over Mayfield. Unknown to most of the populous, the city's two new prelates were already streaking toward the scene.

Cyn, now in her golden skinned Facsimile persona, was almost overcome with excitement. She supposed that she should be happy that the day had been uneventful save for Warrick teaching his tentacles to swing him from building to building. That meant that no one had been in any particular need for Life Savers Inc, which in turn meant no one needed their life saved.

Still, Cyn had chaffed at the lack of action now that she and Warrick had made their return to being prelates. A small part of her was actually happy for the fire, though she did genuinely hope no one was injured.

Below, Warrick lagged slightly behind her. Even the increased speed he gained by swinging was no match for the swiftness of flight. Still, he was much faster than he had been when he was simply having the tentacles hurl him from roof to roof. He had also changed his 'uniform'; donning an all black jumpsuit with a hood and a black scarf to cover his mouth and nose.

Giving Warrick a wave, Cyn dipped a wing and headed for the fire. Many of the windows on the tenth floor had been broken out from the heat. The smoke belched out black and thick, obscuring all vision beyond.

With little conscious thought, Cyn's skin thickened and became covered with tiny, heat resistant scales. Clear lenses grew over her eyes to protect her from the smoke and her respiratory system reconfigured to allow her to hold her breath almost four times as long as normal. Physiological alterations complete, she dove into the smoke.

Blind from the smoke, she collided with something heavy and extremely hot. Whatever it was tipped over with a clatter and a sound like gravel being poured onto a tile floor. Voices and shouts of surprise rose all around her.

Stumbling further into the room, Cyn realized that she was standing in an aisle between two rows of cubicles. At her feet lay a trashcan filled with what appeared to be hot coals. She had little time to contemplate what was going on before she heard several sets of footsteps behind her. The next thing she heard was the loud reports of automatic weapons.

***

Warrick was less than half a block away when he heard the gunfire and Cyn's scream. Too surprised to think of anything else, he ordered the tentacles to launch him toward the nearest window, which they did with celerity.

Rocketing through the window, Warrick saw a horrific scene through the smoke; four men in gas masks, wielding automatic rifles stood over the still form of Cyn, who lay beside a still burning, but overturned brazier. He landed in a roll, aided by one of the tentacles, a few yards further up the aisle.

All eyes in the room followed his entrance and one of the assassins shouted in surprise. He didn't have time to fire, however, as one of the tentacles lifted Warrick and deposited him in one of the cubicles.

Warrick leaned heavily on the cubicle's desk. He couldn't bring himself to believe what he had just seen. Though the two hadn't known each other very long, Cyn had become his best friend in that time. The thought of her lying dead made his stomach churn and his knees become weak.

"Search that side, Lou." One of the murderers said on the other side of the flimsy wall in front of Warrick.

Murderers, Warrick told himself. They had killed Cyn and if they had their way, they would soon kill him. He knew he couldn't allow that. Even more, he knew that he couldn't let Cyn's murderers escape justice.

His eyes suddenly transformed; pupil, iris and whites suddenly replaced by dimly glowing steel hue that seemed to flow over and consume the other colors of his eyes. The metal around him began to quaver and lose its form.

Instincts, the same that told Warrick how to summon his tentacles now told him how to form the metals around him to the purpose he required. A nearby file cabinet, screws in the desk and cubicle walls, even the gun in the hands of the man on the other side of that wall all suddenly liquefied and rushed to the call of Warrick's power, transforming into a suit of armor around his body.

"Shit, its just like the papers said!" exclaimed the man who had just lost his gun.

Warrick had heard enough. The tentacles smashed down the cubicle wall and threw the man to the floor. Two more assailants stood frozen in horror at what they saw before them. He stood there for a moment, looking positively demonic.

His state of mind had shaped his new armor into a thing of nightmares. Braided cords of aluminum simulated flayed muscle, plates of steel stood out all over in a mockery of flesh. Spiked shoulder guards sprouted from his neck and his helmet had deformed into a gaping, insectile maw, covered in spikes and ridges.

Overcome with terror, both men opened fire, their rounds bouncing harmlessly off supernaturally hard armor.

Only a bestial snarl answered them as Warrick exerted his control over their weapons. The metal barrels deformed and twisted over themselves, wrapping the thugs' arms in bonds of iron. Both tried to turn and run, only to be swept off their feet by the tentacles. Taking their cue from Warrick, they too transformed, shifting their serpentine bulk to make their tips appear to be painful barbs.

"You bastards are going to fry for what you did to her." Warrick said grimly.

"Only if we don't kill you first!" came a shout from Warrick's right. One of the thugs had doubled back and was standing beside Cyn's body. In his hands was what looked like an overly complicated water gun, replete with tanks, flanges and hoses. "Bullets may not work, but I bet a plasma lance will." With that, he fired a searing red beam at Warrick.

Diving aside, Warrick escaped with only a few melted shoulder spikes. Growling, he gestured toward the weapon, only to find that it contained no metal.

The assassin laughed. "You're not so tough once someone figures out how to hurt you." He raised the gun to fire again, but suddenly, his arms were entangled in creeping thorns, that tore at his sleeves and raked at his skin. Screaming, he dropped the lance and retreated from the vines.

"I could say the same about you." Cyn stood up. The myriad bullet holes in her body closing up and she was reeling in her arms-turned-vines. "You caught me by surprise earlier," She grimaced, "It took me a while to heal those. But now you're screwed, buddy."

"Cy—err, Facsimile?! You're alive!" Warrick exclaimed.

"Of course I am, Alloy." Cyn managed to give him a wolfish grin. Then she raised her vine-arms menacingly. "Though I can't say the same for everyone here."

The would be assassin clutched his bleeding arms and simpered. "Oh god! Oh please, don't kill me." He bawled.

"Huh?" Warrick blinked inside his armor. "Hey, pal, we're the good guys here, remember? We're not going to kill you." He looked back at his partner, still deeply relieved that she was alive. "Isn't that right Facsimile?"

Cyn sighed and retracted her vine-arms into normal arms. "I guess not. I mean he's crying and everything – what kind of cold-blooded assassin cries?!"

"The kind that was merely a diversion." There was a deep roar of engines and something heavy landed on the floor just inside the broken windows. What smoke remained in the room was blown away in the gale that the powered armor's propulsion system kicked up.

The machine was jet black with dark blue highlights. It stood nine feet tall, with backward bent legs to support its great bulk. Its arms ended in tapered tubes rather than hands. An armored cap protected the sensor area and a pair of triangular fins rose about two feet from each shoulder. Finally, a pair of black lacquered wings emerged from the thing's back, making it look like some sort of mechanical demon.

"Powered armor?" Cyn laughed. "Please... Get him Alloy!" She pointed as if she was sicing a dog on a burglar.

"Err.. Its not made of metal." Warrick said, reaching out with his metal sense.

"You're totally right." The armor's pilot scoffed. "There's no metal involved in this baby." With that, it raised one of its tube arms. There was a whirr and a pair of cannons emerged and began firing in rapid succession.

Cyn dove aside, avoiding the attack. Warrick however, stood his ground, allowing his armor to absorb the punishment meant for him.

"I don't care what you're made of. If you're here to kill us, that's not going to stop me from taking you apart!" Warrick roared, charging the mecha. As he did, he tore the metal out of the light above him, forming a longsword in his hands as well as blacking out much of the room.

The armor pilot simply swung his left arm up and a green beam lanced out at Warrick.

Warrick deflected the beam with his sword, which melted to slag in the process. He continued on, sending the tentacles to force the gun arms aside, allowing him the plow full force into his enemy. The two armor encased combatants came together with a clang.

For a moment, Warrick was inside the defenses of his attacker, slamming his steel enclosed fists against the machine's sides. Then there was a low hum and he was suddenly flung backward.

"Pretty nice, huh?" The pilot laughed. "This little lady has a magnetic repulsion generator. They're normally used to repel missile fire, but it works just fine for you and those things on your arms."

The tentacles lashed out with all their might, but the magnet kept them from approaching to within no more than two yards of the black armor, no matter how much force they applied.

"Hey, prelates ain't as dangerous as I thought." The pilot said, bringing his plasma launcher to bear.

"Oh, we definitely are." Cyn sprang at the machine from the side, raking her nails across its mid section. Five deep rents were torn in its armored hide.

"What the hell?! A hull breech? How –"

"You don't know anything about my powers, jackass." Cyn said, turning back to face him. In truth, she didn't really have such a keen grasp on how she had managed that herself, but she didn't let that show.

The only sound from the suit's speakers was a frustrated groan. "All I need to know is you're not the one that's bulletproof." The cannon arm swung up and began firing. Cyn didn't move. After several dozen rounds, she didn't look any the worse for wear, though the walls behind her were shredded.

"Like I said," She flexed her claws. The hole in her abdomen she had opened to let the bullets pass through closed up. "You don't know a thing about my powers."

"I'm just getting started." The pilot said darkly. The plasma rifle in the machine's left arm retracted, and was replaced by what appeared to be a matte black rod, capped with a glass orb and wrapped in shiny, plastic tubing.

"What's that supposed to be," Cyn almost laughed, preparing to launch herself at her assailant even as she spoke. "Some kind of high tech paddle ball?" She was answered by a massive arc of electricity leaping from the ball to her. Dodging did nothing, the bluish-white bolt tracing a jagged line directly into her chest.

Screaming, Cyn was thrown through two cubicles, leaving a trail of acrid white smoke in her wake. Her nerves felt like they were on fire and her powers went haywire under the electrical stimulus. She landed in a heap, her body contorting in bizarre ways and her skin rapidly shifting color even as she struggled to exert direct control over herself.

"Wow..." The pilot said, marveling at his handy work. "That was... interesting. I think the Tesla Arc weapon is a success."

"It also used up a lot of electricity." Warrick snarled, barely containing his rage.

"Huh?" The armor turned to face him in time for its pilot to see the tentacles whipping into its chest with incredible speed. With a crack that resonated up and down the rows of cubicles, the powered armor was lifted by the impact and hurled out the window.

"Your repulsion system had to shut off for you to use that." Warrick remarked, grimacing beneath his face plate. He glared out the window for a second before going to tend to Cyn. Stepping over the destroyed walls, he found her just as she was resuming her Facsimile form. "You okay, Facsimile?" He asked.

She nodded. "I'm going to need to eat like a week's worth of food to get all that energy back, but yeah." She took his proffered hand and stood. "Who was that guy anyway?"

"I don't know, but he's going to be out of commission for a while. The tentacles cracked his sensors – he'll be blind until he fixes that."

Cyn grinned. "And to think I was creeped out by them." She looked around at the unconscious thugs their mysterious attacker had left behind. "Well, we'll deal with him whenever he decides to mess with us again. In the meantime, let's call the cops to deal with these guys."

##

##

## Life Savers, Inc (Part 4)

Cyn unwrapped her fourth Burger Builders Double Thick burger and took a bite. Warrick had been nice enough to treat her, despite her prodigious appetite and the fact that she had plenty of money to pay for it herself. Across the picnic table (situated in Wagner Park) from her, her unlikely benefactor was still contemplating his own order of fries.

Usually, he'd be prattling on endlessly about comics, or the TV show _Malady Place_ , or any one of his seemingly countless hobbies. In the two hours since they had blundered into that ambush in the high rise building, he'd been practically mute.

Cyn frowned, watching Warrick stir a puddle of ketchup with a fry for the fiftieth time. "Hey," she started, putting on her most demure smile, "I know you're a little squicked out – what with getting shot at and all, but it's over now, okay? We... we don't have to be Life Savers, Inc anymore, okay?" It really bothered her to give up the whole prelate idea so soon – especially with that guy in the powered armor still on the loose – but if Warrick wasn't up for it anymore...

"It's not that, Cyn." Warrick said, finally eating the drowned fry. "I've... kind of been shot at before."

It took a great deal of self control for Cyn to swallow her mouthful of food before exclaiming. "WHAT?! What do you mean you've been shot at before? That doesn't even make any sense! "

Warrick glanced around the picnic area and was relieved that there were no witnesses to Cyn's outburst. "Hey, calm down, Cyn. I can explain if you give me a minute." The only indication he received to continue was a confused glare from the white haired girl.

"Let's just say that this isn't my first time doing the prelate thing..." Warrick said. He held up a hand to silence the second torrent of questions. "Back home in New York – especially near my old school – gangs are pretty bad. The drugs, the guns... people get hooked and/or killed in the crossfire all the time."

"So... you decided to do something about it." Cyn said at almost a whisper. She never would have guessed, though in retrospect, someone with his powers and obsession with the prelate phenomena would have a hard time not using their powers for what they felt was a good cause.

Warrick nodded. "Well, I've got a little sister to think of. She's going to be starting high school in a year and I'd be a pretty shitty big brother if I just let her get caught up in all of that. Plus, I didn't get much of a choice." He trailed off at the last part.

"'Didn't get a choice'? Of course, you had a choice. I mean ignoring the fact that you thought it was the right thing to do, you still –" Cyn was cut off by a shake of his head.

"My powers went active while I was dodging out of the way of a drive-by. Just on reflex, I ripped out the whole front of a car full of Franklin Street Diamondbacks to form my armor – stranded them right in the middle of 69 Reavers territory – and both sides saw I'd done it. Naturally, they turned on me with everything they had. Lucky for me, I'm bulletproof when I'm armored up."

Cyn realized that her mouth was hanging open and closed it.

"I got away, but the Reavers and Diamondbacks called a truce so they could hunt me down. All they knew was that some psionic kid had screwed with them, so every kid in the neighborhood was fair game to shake down. I figured it was the least I could do to stop that, so I started patrolling the neighborhood in my armor; stopping them whenever they attacked someone so they'd know they were after the wrong person. By that time, I'd figured out how to summon the tentacles, so I managed to convince them that I was innocent too After that ended, I just kept going. I hoped I'd eventually land all of them in jail. I may have... until my parents found out and sent me to the Academy to learn how to use my powers 'constructively'."

Cyn nodded. That line about learning to use one's powers constructively was on every billboard and information bulletin put out by the Academy. She couldn't fault the Kaine family for sending their son to school instead of letting him try his luck against street gangs.

"I don't get it." She finally said. "If you've fought with gang members so many times – gotten shot so many times – what's bugging you about what happened today?"

The look Warrick gave her simultaneously made her feel stupid for not understanding something so apparently obvious and taken aback by the concern in her friend's eyes. "Cyn... you died! I mean I thought you died. It certainly looked like you died." He fought back the memory of seeing Cyn crumpled on the floor of the high rise.

It was suddenly very obvious. Cyn wanted to kick herself for not figuring it out without asking. Maybe, she rationalized, she was so used to being who and what she was that this sort of thing simply didn't occur to her anymore.

"Oh, that." She said before stopping herself. She immediately bit her tongue. "Erm... hey, Warrick? Since you told me your whole thing with being a Prelate and all, I'll let you in on a little secret about me too, okay?" Warrick only nodded, still trying and failing to affect a stoic expression. "I'll take that as a yes."

Her expression changed to that of a mischievous child telling a secret. "Well, my secret is much cooler than yours, of course." She teased him just to prod him out of his funk a bit. "I mean, really, how hard is it to pummel a few street hoods? Regular cops do it all the time – especially in New York, where they've got whole powered armor divisions and stuff."

Exactly as she had planned, Warrick's look of worry and concern had turned to irritation. "Okay, Cyn, I get it; I suck." He said flatly. He was still on the verge of slipping back into his fugue.

"Well... you see..." Cyn milked the moment for all it was worth. Theatrics was one of the things she loved most of all. "I _can't_ die."

There followed a moment of confused silence that caused Cyn's childish smile to grow three sizes. She looked like the cat that swallowed the canary which had in turn swallowed a second, smaller canary.

"Wait... what?" Warrick finally managed.

"Just like I said." Cyn smiled, leaning back to resume her meal.

"That doesn't make any sense. You're a shape shifter. I've seen you shift shapes. You can't be invulnerable too, can you?"

"A _perfect_ shapeshifter." Cyn corrected. "I'm not some dime a dozen 'I can look like anyone' or 'look, my arms are really long now' shapeshifter – I've got control of every cell of my body"

"Still not following." Warrick said.

Cyn sighed "Think of it this way; getting shot or stabbed, or gouged, or smashed – or whatever – kills you because it damages organs and stuff. But that really wouldn't matter to someone who can either make a new organ, or simply reshape the damaged organ so that it's not damaged anymore, right?"

Warrick nodded, finally satisfied.

"Besides, it usually doesn't even come to that. Did you notice that when that guy in the powered armor shot at me, it didn't do anything? That's because I had time to open holes in my body and move my organs out of the way of the bullets. I'm like... indestructible as long as I'm conscious."

"That's pretty sweet." Warrick said, back to normal finally. "You're right; it is cooler than being bulletproof."

Cyn couldn't help but laugh. "Don't sell yourself short. You looked freakin' awesome in that armor. Plus your attack tentacles really did a job on that powered armor guy."

The two smiled at each other and ate in silence for a few moments.

"Speaking of which," Cyn said after polishing off her fifth burger, "That guy got away. He'll be back eventually. I'm thinking that Life Savers, Inc should definitely be there to take him off the street for good next time."

Warrick nodded. "At the very least, we owe him for that ambush. Plus, we've still got a week before Ian and Alexis come back – I think it'd be wrong not to use them to do the right thing instead of the smart thing."

***

The place looked like an indoor junkyard. Piles of parts from decommissioned military devices mingled with broken televisions and refrigerators in the dank, poorly ventilated cellar of a bar called Truetti's. The battered Sky Tyrant powered armor stood in the center of it all; its access panels opened and wires pulled out to connect to a diagnostic computer held by an impish little Irish man wearing a lead apron and goggles.

"They put up one hell of a fight." The technician said, skimming through the diagnostics for the Sky Tyrant. "The sensor array's been cracked... that takes at least 50,000 pounds per square inch – what the hell'd they hit you with, Scuff, a train?"

"Some kind of ribbon – like a metal snake or something." Scuff was sitting on a crate, hunched over. His shirt was off and his midsection wrapped in gauze. "The guy's a goddamn demon and the chick is something like I never seen before."

"Which one of them burned out the auxiliary weapons generator?" The technician asked.

"The chick. I hit her with the Tesla weapon and she went crazy. I didn't even realize that she blew the generator until those snakes hit me."

"And the..." the technician cleared his throat incredulously. "Claw marks?"

"That was her too. Two inches of ceramic-carbon armor – that shit can stop a gauss shot at thirty meters – and she tore through it like wrapping paper. Even nicked me." Scuff gently prodded his tender midsection.

"You aren't even counting the electronics she shredded in the process. The abdominal joints and servos are gone; I don't even know how you took so much stress on the arms. We're going to have to rebuild half the super structure."

Scuff shook his head. "Not just rebuild. Improve. Mr. Liedecker wants it better than before. He said you'd better learn from what they did to me."

"What they did to it, Scuff." The technician said, "Your little scratch doesn't count."

"Just fix the Sky Tyrant, okay?!" Scuff snapped. He stood up and reached for his shirt, which was hanging on what had once been a missile rack.

"Be patient Scuff, the name "Gear" Callahan isn't at the top of Mr. Liedecker's rolodex because I'm a good dancer, ya know?" The technician was already typing in notes alongside the diagnostic. "When I'm done, Sky Tyrant will live up to its name."

"I'd better." Scuff snarled, heading for the stairs.

"Funny." Gear mused to himself "I thought he called the _armor_ Sky Tyrant."

End Issue #1

#

#

#

#

# Issue #2: The Kin

##

##

## The Kin (Part 1)

[This issue takes place during the events of Descendants #1]

"You've got to trust me on this, Laurel, it's for the best." Alexis said, retrieving her coffee cup from the floor beside her. She was sitting in the corner of Laurel's workshop, which in the past had been Freeland House's bridal suite. Now, orderly shelves of parts competed with banks of servers and other computer peripherals for space around four large worktables.

Laurel sat near her on the floor, applying solder to a circuit board. "I can't agree with you on that, Alex. How are those kids going to learn to control their abilities if they're not allowed to use them?"

"It's only until the renovation is done." Alexis argued. "Besides, maybe it'll be good for them to learn to do for themselves without using their powers all the time."

"You're one to talk about the random abuse of powers. I seem to remember a certain someone making microwave popcorn in her hands on a bet back in school."

Alexis couldn't help but smile at the memory. "I didn't do it on a bet – you're the one that started giving odds." She regained her more serious posture, "Anyway, I've grown up. You don't see me flying everywhere, do you?"

"You haven't changed as much as you seem to wish." Laurel said, turning the circuit board over in her hands. "For example; We don't have a coffeemaker yet and I'm pretty sure I didn't hear the teapot boiling... so can you tell me how you have a piping hot cup of Joe?"

Alexis blushed and sat her cup back down. "So, what exactly are you working on anyway?" She changed the subject, knowing Laurel couldn't resist describing whatever new invention had captured her fancy.

Laurel nodded and stood, taking the circuit board over to one of the tables. "I'll show you, but I don't think you've heard the last about letting the kids use their powers."

Alexis followed her friend to where the other woman was opening the face plate on a notebook computer. "I thought you got out of the hobby of making computers from scratch" she offered.

"I did," Laurel shrugged "but this is a very special computer. This little guy *should* help make Kareem feel a bit more at home here."

"I thought Kareem was adjusting pretty well, considering. He talks to Melissa and me all the time and he seems happy. The only problem he has is accidentally reading thoughts when he's trying to communicate."

"This is exactly what this device should help. In theory, it will allow him to hold conversations on this plane instead of depending on his telepathy all the time." Laurel seated the circuit board she had been working on into place and began adjusting jumper settings. "See, I was reading Kareem's file from the Academy and it said that he could allow others to astral project with him... you know, before they did whatever they did to him."

"I don't really follow..." Alexis admitted.

"Well, I got to thinking; what if he could astral project a computer program instead? Astral projection is pretty much just bending the Theta brainwave so you can perceive the Astral Plane."

"Now you've totally lost me." Alexis said, making the face she always did when her genius friend went over her head.

"Sorry, I'm getting to the point now." Laurel grinned. "See, brainwaves are just electrical impulses, just like –"

"Idiot speak, please, Laurel?"

"But this part is so interesting!" Laurel whined.

"Only if I have the tiniest bit of understanding of what you're talking about, L. Please, just tell me what it does – how it does it would just give me a headache."

Laurel nodded, defeated. "It lets him show his image on the screen and speak through the speakers. With a large, high definition screen, it'd be as if he were physically in the room with us. And on his end, the device would broadcast what the camera and mic pick up directly into his mind, so he wouldn't need to use telepathy."

"That's wonderful, Laurel! You're right; he'll definitely feel more comfortable with something like that."

"Eventually, I hope to put one in all the main rooms, so he can take part in everything. After that, I can work on –"

One of the computers began a rapid fire chirping, which drowned out whatever Laurel was saying. Both women rushed over to investigate; Laurel sliding into the leather computer chair at the center of the rows of monitors and databanks.

"Should I be worried... or diving for cover?" Alexis asked.

"No worries – my overheat alarm is _House of Flame_ by Pan's Garden" Laurel explained, typing away at the keyboard. The central monitor displayed the front page of a Florida news website. "This is just my information flagging sound."

"Information flagging?"

"Yeah. After what happened with the Academy, I figured I should watch for any strange activity from them. So I've have this server; Vimes, crawling the internet for any Academy activity or changes to sites regarding the Academy." With a few taps of the keyboard, Laurel brought up another page from the same news site and displayed it side by side with the other page. "Clever boys." Laurel commented, typing furiously.

"What's clever?" Alexis asked, nervously.

"Check this out;" Laurel enlarged the two pages and pointed, "On January 28 of this year, Quinn Bluffs, Florida experienced a freak flash flood which knocked out most of their power grid. On February 3, the Quinn Bluffs Courier reported that the flood caused a mud slide that partially buried the almost completed science center being constructed there by the PTAA, forcing them to abandon operations. Heavy rains have kept them from excavating ever since"

"Serves them right, but I don't get why that's clever." Alexis said.

"That's not the clever bit. _This_ is the clever bit; May 6, a day after we came to Freeland House, the Courier's webpage was changed. What I just read to you was from a search engine's cache. As of the 6th, the page reports that the science center was owned by the Abrams Foundation for Scientific Research."

"I've never heard of them."

"Neither has anyone else." Laurel said. "I just did a search and they have one result: their own website. A Whois query shows that their site was registered on May 10."

"Huh." Alexis remarked. "Clever."

"Aren't they just?" Laurel smirked. "And now for the icing on the cake; I had Vimes search police reports for strange occurrences between the date of the flood and today. Besides a town with an annual rainfall of fifty-eight inches getting thirty inches in the past three months, there have been eleven reports of money and food disappearing before witnesses who swear no one touched them, six thefts with no signs of forced entry, and four sightings of a 'demon'." She pulled up the police reports as she spoke. "Put them all together and they spell..."

"Psionic." Alexis finished.

"Got it in one." Laurel nodded. "And I'm guessing this one is another kid they had sealed in a stasis cell. The question is, 'what do we do about it?'"

"You know the answer to that, L." Alexis said. "We can't let them catch this kid and do god knows what to them again."

"I thought you said you weren't up for doing the prelate thing." Laurel gave her friend a wry smile, "I think you said that it drew too much attention... that it was for the best concerning the kids?"

"That was before another kid was in danger." The raven haired woman replied. "Besides, this isn't like prelate work. I'm merely going to go find this new psionic and bring him back. That's all. No fights with Enforcers or anyone else."

"And what if they don't give us the choice?" Both Alexis and Laurel's heads whipped around to find Ian standing in the doorway.

"How did you know to be here?" Alexis puzzled.

"He asked me to page him when Vimes dredged up anything on the Academy." Laurel explained. "So I just programmed in a line of code to do it automatically."

Ian nodded as he closed to door and came to stand with the two women. "Ever since Prometheus tossed me around, I figured we'd have to cross him or someone like him again. Better we be prepared for it, right, ladies?"

Alexis gave him a pointed look. He had certainly changed since the trio had last been together. Back when they were in the Academy, he'd been more of a spectator for all the daring things she and Laurel had initiated. Now, he was more proactive than her – at least as far as dealing with the Academy went. Laurel didn't seem to notice this change, but Alexis chalked that up to Ian and Laurel having lived near each other almost continuously since their Academy days.

Ian shied away from the gaze directed at him. "I'm not looking to fight Prometheus again, honestly – but it's a possibility, so we shouldn't pretend it isn't." He leaned over Laurel's shoulder and scrolled over some of the text. "Quinn Bluffs – sounds like a nice place. When are we going?"

"Someone's got to stay and look after the kids." Laurel said, pausing slightly at Ian's half chuckle. "So you and Alexis can go. Take my car – it can work on gas or electric, so if there's another blackout from those floods, you'll be able to get around."

"Cool." Ian nodded. "Too bad you won't be coming with, Laurel; it'd be just like old times – the three of us road-tripping, terrorizing the countryside, devouring the peasants' sheep..."

"That's dragons, Ian." Laurel laughed.

"Oh. So what did we do?" Ian grinned, looking to Alexis in an attempt to get her in on the joke.

"I'm pretty sure we didn't eat anyone's sheep." the psionic genius supplied, giving Alexis a worried glance.

"Great, so terrorizing the countryside's still in. how about you two go into town and gear us up – I'll watch out for the kids." Ian offered.

"Actually..." Laurel gave both her friends one of those smiles that told them she was planning something. "How about we take Melissa and Cynthia with us, Alex? We don't really do things as a group and I think that's a shame, considering we all live under the same roof."

Alexis shrugged. "Fine by me. Let me go get ready."

***

Rain pattered down, splashing against the lone window in the room. It wasn't much, but it was the only reasonably comfortable room in the abandoned apartment building it was part of. The only light was a feeble grayish patch of sun trying vainly to shine through the clouds.

A young girl, probably twelve, sat on the windowsill, watching the rain and the people in the streets. Across from her, on one of the mattresses that took up the majority of the floor space, was a young man of about sixteen with black hair. He was trying to read a newspaper in the dim.

"Could you move over a little bit, Rain, you're in my light." The boy said, turning the page.

"But I like looking out the window, Kevin." The girl, now identified as Rain pouted. "It's not like there's anything going on in here. Noah's asleep, so I can't even ask to go up on the roof."

"You can get out of my light without moving away from the window, ya know?" the boy, Kevin, responded.

Rain blinked for a moment, then moved so that she wasn't blocking the sunlight. "Better?"

"Much." Kevin said.

A few moments of silence followed, then. "I'm hungry." Rain announced.

"A little patience, Rain." A smooth, purring voice came from the closet in the corner. Its owner was obscured by shadows. "We'll all have something to eat once Tesser comes back from 'shopping'. We should even have TV if she managed to find a generator at the Centre."

"I thought you were asleep." Kevin said.

"Can't sleep. You're worried, Rain's getting hyper and my empathy's mainlining it right to my brain." The voice said again, a bit irritated. "So what is it that you're worried about, Blank?"

"The Centre, mostly." Kevin said. "I mean, the Academy isn't going to leave it abandoned for long. What are we going to do when they send Enforcers down here, Noah?"

"We'll be moving on eventually." Noah said. "We have to. We can't keep Rain here much longer."

"And if they come before we move on?"

"None of use is going back in one of those boxes." Noah declared. "If they think that, they have another thing coming. I'll fight them to keep the rest of you safe – and I don't doubt that your or Tesser feel the same."

##

##

## The Kin (Part 2)

Laurel's SUV blazed down I-95 somewhere south of Brunswick, Georgia. The sun had only recently gone down, but on this particular stretch, there was very little traffic at all. The pair had decided to drive straight on through the night to reach Quinn Bluffs as soon as possible. A few miles back, they had stopped at a convenience store for snacks and to switch places along the way.

Alexis was at the wheel, with Ian rummaging through the brown paper bag containing their dinner.

"I got you a chicken wrap when we stopped at the Jiffy-Mart back there." Ian asked, removing a foil wrapped package from the bag. "You still like these, right?"

Alexis let herself smile. Ian had a knack for remembering even the smallest details when it came to his friends. He could hardly remember what he'd had for breakfast, but he remembered her favorite junk food from years ago. "Thanks Ian." She said, accepting the item.

She thought back to a few days earlier when she had remarked to herself how different Ian had become. She took a bite of the tortilla wrapped chicken. The taste was almost nostalgic, even though the truth was that up until coming to Freeland House, she had still treated herself to one at least once a week. Smiling at the feeling, she glanced over at Ian, who was unwrapping his own sandwich; a pile of meat forced between two slices of bread which were making a valiant effort to contain the shear volume of pastrami, turkey breast and roast beef that strained to be free.

The more things change, the more things stay the same, she mused. Unbidden, a bit of worry tarnished her walk down memory lane. The truth was that she had felt guilty for all the times she and Laurel has dragged Ian into trouble. Learning that Ian had become much more independent had stymied the guilt, but what if it was all just an act. She wouldn't put it past Ian to lie to make things go smoother for everyone involved except him.

"This is pretty good, isn't it?" Ian asked, looking out the window into the darkness.

"Huh?" Alexis blinked, her decent into her own guilt abruptly halted by reality.

"This is like that time Laurel's purse got stolen while she was in New York and we had to go pick her up. Good times." Ian said, still looking out the window. "We hit a Jiffy-mart on the way up that time too. Same stuff too, I think – except Satin Cream Shakes didn't exist back then. I think I had a green tea instead..."

Alexis smiled. "I remember that time, I didn't want to drive to New York in the dark alone, so I woke you..." she trailed off. The guilt was back and it seemed to Alexis's mind that it bought friends.

"Yeah, you dragged me out of bed so I could ride shotgun with you." Ian chuckled. "My roommate was pissed too. He didn't shut up about that for weeks." He shrugged. "Not that he didn't deserve it. Did I ever tell you that he stole my alarm clock when we moved out?"

That got a laugh. "Your alarm clock? Why?"

"I don't know. I guess he needed one." The two old friends shared a laugh at that. Still, the guilt ate at Alexis until she said something.

"Ian?"

"Hmm?" Ian said with a mouthful of Satin Cream chocolate milkshake.

"Tell me the truth. Did you mind getting up and riding up to NYC?"

Ian raised an eyebrow. What an odd question... "Why would I?"

"Well it seemed like Laurel and I – especially me – made you do an awful lot back then. Whenever we got in trouble, you seemed to get in trouble too. And none of it was any of your doing. Why did you let me do that to you?"

Ian snorted incredulously. "Made me? You guys never made me do anything. I went along with it one my own, thank you very much."

"But why?" Alexis persisted. "You didn't have anything to gain from doing things like get up at dawn to drive to another state."

"I got the hang out with one of my best friends and a great memory – that's enough of a reason to be happy I did it." Ian grinned, taking another sip of his drink. "What bought this on?"

Alexis sighed. "No reason I guess." She glanced over at her friend, who was now attacking his sandwich with gusto. "You know, I'm glad you're here, Ian. Not just on the road trip, but at Freeland House as a whole. You and Laurel being there will definitely keep me from going overboard with the kids."

Ian only nodded, but at the mention of the kids, Alexis noticed a twinkle in his eyes she was used to seeing in Laurel's eyes shortly after getting away with some form of mischief. Inwardly, she wondered if she should be worried.

***

The next morning, in a Sleep and Go Motel in Quinn Bluffs, Florida, Gina Sheldon was miserable. She had been in Quinn Bluffs for two months. In that time, the light drizzle that fell on the city had not stopped for a minute. She was cold, she was tired, and the mold growing rampant in the humid environment was playing havoc with her allergies. Grimacing, she blew her nose loudly. "Goddamn rain girl. When I find her, I'll wring every last damn drop of rain out of her." She hissed, brushing a few stray blonde locks out of her face.

"A big, snotty trumpet, followed by profanity. Really, Gina, you are the most soft – the most feminine lady I've ever had the pleasure of knowing." Josiah Colt said dryly. He was sitting on one of the beds in the room.

The room was a carbon copy of all cheap chain motel rooms across the country; a couple of deceptively wide beds, topped with two woefully inadequate pillows, a night stand between the two to which a phone and a remote control were shackled, and a television set upon a low dresser that no one ever dared use to store clothing.

Josiah was doing his best to ignore the poor accommodations, instead opting to concentrate on the solitaire game he had going on his computer. He was a short man of Mediterranean heritage, his long, black hair hanging free around his face, neatly framing his well manicured moustache.

"Oh, I'm so very sorry if my suffering is bothering you." Gina rolled her eyes. Two months of living with Josiah had her on the verge of killing the arrogant Enforcer from Los Angeles. He had spent the entire time not spent searching for the Psionics who had escaped and effectively demolished the Quinn Bluffs facility needling Gina about everything from her looks to her habits.

"Don't let it happen again, love." Josiah said with a shrug.

Gina grimaced and took a look at what Josiah was doing. "The finest technology a government grant can buy, a computer capable of processing at half the speed of the human brain and rendering photorealistic images in real time – and you use it to play cards."

"Solitaire is a game of kings, Gina. I don't expect you to understand."

"Yeah, lonely pathetic kings. And one obnoxious drama queen." Gina said mocking Josiah's dry wit. She walked over to the door and took down her dark red rain slicker. "I can't take being stuck in here anymore; I'm going out to do a sweep for those brats." She picked up what looked like a palm-top computer, switched it on and nodded at it approvingly.

"Oh sure, I'm sure you'll do much better than we've done in the past seven weeks." Josiah sneered at her back as she went out the door.

***

The slick streets were no hindrance for Tillie Reynolds, also known as Tesser. She had discovered long ago that her special gift, superhuman speed, had a number of interesting side effects. The foremost of these was that the moment she exceeded six miles per hour, it became almost impossible for normal terrain, even ice, to cause her to lose her footing.

Later, she had learned that breaking other speed barriers granted her other benefits. At twenty-two miles per hour, she became insubstantial, capable of passing through solid objects. At her top speed, thirty miles per hour, she was difficult to track with the naked eye.

She was exercising all three of these side effects at the moment, dashing down the streets of Quinn Bluffs toward the abandoned apartment she and her new friends called home.

While thirty miles an hour was hardly what most people considered when they thought of superhuman speed, to achieve such a speed under one's own power was an exhilarating experience for Tesser. Despite carrying a backpack crammed with food and other pilfered necessities bound for her friends, Tesser couldn't help but take a circuitous route through the commercial district to earn just a bit more time exercising her powers.

All too soon, however, the rundown building she had called home since February came into view and she was forced to slow down so that she could climb the stairs instead of passing through them. Now fully visible and corporeal, Tesser stopped to admire herself in the grimy, but still usable mirror in the hall outside of apartment 303, down the hall from where the group of escaped Psionics lived.

Despite being on the run and being forced by necessity to steal for her daily bread, Tesser maintained the vanity her mother had instilled in her from an early age. Thrusting a hand into the backpack, she produced a comb she had taken from the purse of a passerby on the street. The teeth weren't as fine as she'd like, but beggars couldn't be choosers. Removing the knit cap she had been wearing, the tall, thin seventeen year old attempted to corral the rat's nest of red locks that had replaced what she remembered to be a full, lustrous coif before she had awakened in a glass stasis cell after what had apparently been eighteen months.

The door to apartment 311 opened and Kevin Quaid poked his head out. "Noah said he sensed you. Come on, Tillie, get inside – we're starving here and don't have time for your hair."

Tesser pegged the younger boy with an icy glare and continued to wrestle with her tangled hair.

"Seriously. Noah's just gotten back to his self. Don't piss him off again."

Tesser heaved an overly dramatic sigh, took one last look at her still poorly managed hair and stomped toward Kevin, shaking her head. "I don't see why we're so afraid of pissing Noah off and not afraid of pissing me off."

"Because we've all seen what I look like pissed off." A new figure said, stepping up behind Kevin from inside the apartment. He was nineteen and to Tesser probably the most handsome guy she'd ever laid eyes on.... When he was, as he said, himself. Standing six feet, one inch tall, with brown hair that always seemed in place, Noah was a commanding presence to the three others in the group of Psionics. At the moment, he wore a smock tied around his bare torso and a pair of jeans that appeared to be shredded just below the shin.

Cowed by the presence of her crush, Tesser blushed and pulled the knit cap back over her embarrassing hair. "Sorry, Noah, Didn't know you were standing there." She said.

"No harm. Come on inside, lets see what you picked up." Noah gave her a smile and stood aside as she and Kevin stepped into the apartment.

"Hi, Tillie!" Rain said happily from the pile of blankets that served as her bed. "Did you get something we can watch TV on?" Rain didn't seem to understand the gravity of the little group's situation. The fact was that she was the catalyst for everything that had happened combined with the fact that she was the one most affected by it served to both hearten and distress the older kids.

Tesser put on her brave smile (something all three of the older members of the group had learned to do) and shook her head. "I found something we can use... but I couldn't take it by myself."

"Just say what and where, Tesser." Noah said quickly. "I'll go and get it myself – I am the strongest."

"Well, I took a little jog through the Centre like you asked me to," Tesser began. "and I found a portable generator. The problem is that the thing's in a blocked up room and there's debris everywhere. We need to phase to get inside, but it'll take all four of us to clear the crap off the generator in any reasonable time."

Noah nodded. "Okay, then, we'll grab the generator tomorrow. And pack anything you want to take with you. Once we get the generator and anything else useful we find at the Centre, we should seriously get out of Dodge."

***

Ian squinted through the rain that collected on the windshield of the SUV, hands tight on the wheel. The rain was light, but coming fast enough to make it seem that the windshield wipers were having no effect whatsoever.

"How is it that it's been raining in this town for three months, but it hasn't flooded?" He asked, tapping the brake to avoid the phantom of something that may have been crossing the road.

"Well, it did flood back in January – four inches in two hours." Alexis said, eyes on the road map she was studying.

"But then it kept raining." Ian pointed out. "Shouldn't that mean it should still be flooded?"

"Not really. It isn't called Quinn Bluffs because of any famous poker tournament, you know. Half the town and the out lying region are elevated up on these granite cliffs, see?" Alexis held one hand above the other as if that could possibly illustrate what she was talking about. "Most of the water just drains away. Or causes a mudslide – which is what happened to the Academy's place here."

"You'd still think there'd be standing water everywhere." Ian frowned.

"Remember you're also in Florida. The wetlands are a huge sponge that suck up most floods before they start. Didn't you learn anything in environmental science? That's what that whole flap over them was about at the turn of the century."

"I spent most of my time trying to hit on Claire Adler in environmental science class." Ian admitted. There was an awkward silence at that. "Erm... are you sure we're on the right road?"

***

"Gah!" Gina dodged across the street as the SUV sped by, slowing only slightly as if the driver wasn't sure he'd seen her. "Stupid townies." She snarled, frowning at the vehicle as it continued down the access road. "It'll serve them right when they find out that the only thing down there is the Centre and they have to turn around." She huffed.

Drawing her rain slicker closer around herself and cursing the rain and the little girl she knew was responsible, Gina became aware of the low chirping sound from her pocket. "Hmm?" She blinked, extracting the palm-top device. The light green screen showed a low jagged line similar to those one would see on a heart monitor or EKG machine. The device was designed to monitor Theta waves; the brain wave all people produced, but psionics produced on a slightly different set of wavelengths. And it had just registered two spikes that were not Gina's.

"I'll be damned." The blonde hissed. Without a second thought, she took out her cell phone and dialed Josiah's number. Before the Los Angelino could even answer, she spoke. "Shut up for a second, Avatar. This is Impact – my scanner just got a pair of hits. And guess where they're headed."

##

##

## The Kin (Part 3)

The building that would have been named the Centre of Psionic Study was situated at the bottom of a granite cliff one half mile from the city limits of Quinn Bluffs, at the end of a freshly paved access road.

The mudslide that had buried over half of the facility and its parking lot also buried the access road up to two hundred yards from where the security gate once stood, forcing Alexis and Ian to travel up to the mud entombed structure on foot.

"Nice place here." Ian quipped, slogging through ankle deep mud and looking up at the five story former science center. "Wall to wall mud, all mud furnishings – and look at the view of all that mud!"

Alexis smirked, adjusting the travel bag over her shoulder. "Well, with no front door, they don't have to worry about solicitors, at least." In fact, even the relatively new residence of Freeland House had to put up with a few evangelists in its few weeks of existence.

"Speaking of which, how exactly are we getting in?" The pair had reached the northern side of the building; the only part not covered in mud. "I didn't think to bring a bulldozer."

"Hmm..." Alexis gave the windows and wall a cursory glance. A window on the third floor was smashed out. "Looks like someone already made a way in... or out."

"Our kid?" Ian asked, staring up at the broken window.

"Don't know, but that doesn't mean there's not more in stasis in there. We should see if there's anyone to save here before we try to find anyone who escaped."

"Still doesn't say how we're getting inside." Ian noted.

Alexis smiled at her friend. "You're forgetting something, Ian. I can fly." Not giving Ian time to protest, she grabbed his arm. Focusing her power, she drew in light, converting it to heat and directing it toward the ground. The side effect was that she was enshrouded in a clinging, black miasma that made her look like a sinister ghost.

With Ian in tow, she flew gently up to the window.

***

Down on the second floor, the tiny band of young psionics was making little headway in freeing the portable generator. When the mudslide had occurred, the floor had shifted, dumping the desks, file cabinets and other office furniture through the wall into the workshop area adjacent to it. This, combined with the machinery in the workshop had conspired to obscure and hold fast the wagon sized generator.

Heaving as one, Noah and Kevin pushed another desk off the pile of debris. Tesser and Rain dutifully began rooting through the drawers, looking for anything that may be of use to them and stuffing it in their backpacks. Early in the searching, Rain had found a digital music player and discovered it was still in working order. She was currently bobbing her head to the beat of _Waiting for One_ by the Cutthroat Bandits.

"This is going to take forever." Kevin whined as he helped Noah pull mangled power tools out of the hole vacated by the desk.

"Think of all the creature comforts that this generator can give us, Kevin; heat, light, television, movies! Did you know that two remakes of Phantom of the Opera have come out since I was put on ice and I haven't seen any of them?" Noah was getting the slightly predatory look that indicated that his 'change' was coming closer. Kevin decided to quit complaining.

Tesser hadn't noticed, she was busy looking around the destroyed former workshop. "I really don't like being here again..." She moaned. "It's like walking into a bad dream again."

"We'll never have to come back here again after this, Tesser, I promise." Noah said gently, the predatory look fading a bit. "We'll go to Miami and live close to the beach or some –"He stopped short in his promises, looking around bewildered. Part of his abilities was that he could sense the emotions of others when they were nearby. At that moment, he felt very shocked and disgusted and he knew that feeling wasn't from any of his new family.

"Tesser." He whispered. "Someone's nearby. Can you check it out?"

***

Someone had used an impressive amount of violence while taking their leave from the third floor. The place was supposed to be unused when it was destroyed by the mudslide, so no rescue crews had been deployed and thus, the path of destruction had been preserved. Doors had been knocked off their hinges, cameras ripped off the ceiling. A single bullet hole nicked the wall near a much battered steel security door.

The door had been closed after the escape, but the beating it had endured had made sealing and locking it impossible.

Pausing at the door, Ian gave it a casual examination with the beam of his flashlight. "High security, someone needed a card, a code and a thumb print to get in here." He said with a low whistle. "This is the right place."

Alexis nodded, pulling the door open. It protested with a loud creak, revealing a black void beyond. Before advancing, she played her light over the nether side of the door. "Claw marks. I think I know why we have reports of demons coming out of Quinn Bluffs."

"I pity the poor jackass that has to tangle with that kid." Ian said. "Strong enough to break open an eight inch steel door with claws to match."

His friend didn't respond; her eyes focused on what her flashlight beam had landed on. "Ian..."

"Hmm?" He turned to see the flashlight beam had scattered over many metallic surfaces which hung from the ceiling by a hydraulic lift. "What the hell were they doing here?"

The machine sprouted a forest of mechanical limbs beneath the lift. Drills, scalpels, recording devices and other, less readily identifiable implements tipped these arms. The assembly was popularly known as a remote surgical rig; conceptualized a few years before as a method by which the world's best surgeons could operate on any patient in the world without having to leave their native offices. Despite a media whirlwind surrounding it, the expense of such a machine led to its commercial demise before it even reached the human test phase of usage.

Except this rig was poised over five transparent stasis chambers, with telltale stains on some of the implements heavily implied that someone was using it on humans only a few months before. One of the stasis cells was smashed, a spray of plastic shards evident on the floor. The others, save one, had been wrenched open.

Stepping lightly, and holding back more than a little nausea, Alexis examined the surgical rig. "A lot of these arms are bent." She said. "Our kid?"

Ian looked at the identifying plates on the stasis cells; C38-1402 CODENAME: Rain, C38-1411 CODENAME: Blank, C38-1421 CODENAME: Thunderhead, C38-1400 CODENAME Tesser, C38-1380 CODENAME: Incubus. "Not kid." He said. "Kids. Ones who were at the Academy long enough to get codenames for government work."

"C38... that sounds like a batch number or something. Our kids all had numbers on their plates starting with A14." Alexis frowned. As she spoke, she gingerly detached the rig's sound recorder. As she did, something in the center of the cluster, attached to an arm that hadn't been extended caught her eye.

"They sound like serial numbers. Batch thirty eight from series C; Batch fourteen from series A? If they have at least series A, B and C and each one goes to at least thirty-eight, with at least, what? Four hundred kids each?" Ian tried doing the math in his head to no avail. "I don't even want to think of that."

Alexis wasn't listening. Instead, she was removing the silver and glass globe from its control arm. "Bio-map encoder?" She read the brand name printed around the top of the device. "What's a bio-map?"

"I've got no idea, by maybe Laurel can figure it out. Take it with. Find anything else?"

"Voice recorder. Maybe it can give us a hint about what happened here – or a description of the kids so we're not searching blind." Alexis fumbled with the dented machine a second before a woman's voice emerged from it.

"Sunday, January 28, 2074, 8:54am. Installation code Deep Twenty-One; Babel Tower. Operative Doctor Melody Cartwright, lead researcher at Babel Tower." The recorded voice began. "Today begins preliminary testing of the Bio-mapping procedure. We've chosen low level Psionics – C38's for the first run – as we don't expect them to survive. Luckily, Project Tome's connections inside the Academy give us plenty of fodder to choose from. The first subject is C38-4121, codename—"The player screeched as it skipped over corrupted data.

"Gah!" Ian grunted, covering his ears. "Skip ahead, see if there's anything else."

Alexis did, setting her jaw against the anger she felt toward the recorded woman. The recording resumed, "—locks deactivated. Engaging hard neural inhibitors to keep C38-1402 from waking as we begin the trepanning an—"A low roar partially obscured the rest of what she was saying.

"More corruption?" Ian asked, looking a bit sick.

"I don't think we have time to listen to anymore, Ian. We need to find those kids and find them NOW. Didn't you hear that? They were going to trepan one of them."

"Too late, Enforcer." A purring voice came from the entrance. "The kids just found you." Arrayed at the door were Noah, Kevin and Tesser with Rain bringing up the rear. Noah's eyes glowed a very dim, almost imperceptible green.

"Enforcers? Oh hell no." Ian said. "Look, we're here to help you all. Uh, weren't there five of you?"

"Just like you helped us at the Academy? No thanks." Noah seemed to expand, the glow of his eyes becoming more apparent and his skin darkening. "And yeah, there were five of us – but you sons of bitches killed one of us before we could save him!" The transformation accelerated. Noah grew half a foot taller and his skin sprouted a short pelt of tan fur. His feet twisted and grew, becoming arched with claws tipping the toes. His hands similarly became claws. A pair of dark, curved horns grew to crown his head and his eyes became huge pools of fallow green with no white or pupil. Finally, a hump formed on his back, only to explode into a pair of leathery wings.

Guess we know where the reports of a demon came from, Ian thought. "Now hold on, kid. You've got to believe us, we're the good guys here."

"He's right." Alexis offered, "We've already saved some kids – just like you – from the Academy. We're just trying to do the same for you."

"I don't believe you." Noah snarled. "Tesser, help me deal with them. Blank, keep Rain safe."

"But Noah, what if..." Tesser started to say, but thought better of it. Noah had never led them wrong before. Instead, she kicked in her powers and began a circuit of the room to build up speed.

"You're making a huge mistake, Noah." Ian said, calling the transformed psionic by the name Tesser had called him. He found himself wondering what he could do to stop the young man, but not injure him.

"You're the one that made the mistake. You and your whole organization – trying to use us like that. Experimenting on us like animals." Noah began centering his powers on Ian. In his Incubus form, he could far better control his secondary ability to influence human emotions. Right now, he wanted the Enforcer to feel sorrow before Noah killed him. But as he did, it occurred to him that he was suddenly feeling cold amusement.

There was a sound like a firecracker and Kevin flew forward, propelled as if from a cannon. Rain gasped in shock.

"No, little boy." Gina Sheldon said. Her fist was still extended into the space Kevin had previously occupied. She still had her rain slicker on, but had now donned some type of light tactical armor underneath it. Josiah Colt stood behind her, dressed in an overcoat, smoking a cigarette. "Your mistake was thinking your little 'family' of punks could hide from fully trained Enforcers forever."

"Really, if those two were really Enforcers, you'd all be dead or captured by now." Josiah added.

"And Control was not exactly specific as to which we had to do." She glared down at Rain who hadn't moved during the entire episode. "You specifically, I'm going to kill." She hissed. "Just to stop the goddamn rain."

Noah whirled and leapt at the real enforcers. "You won't touch a hair on her!"

Gauging the young man's trajectory, Gina wound up a punch. "Heh. We haven't met, kid..." She landed a massive upper cut on Noah seconds before his claws reached her. The air around her arm rippled as her psionic power shifted his kinetic energy back into him. "The name's Impact!" With an audible crack, Noah was sent across the room to smash against one of the stasis cells. "Get it?" she sneered at him.

"Noah!" Tesser screamed, seeing her crush handled so roughly. With a wordless war cry, she dashed toward the woman calling herself Impact, who merely drew back her fist. But Tesser had reach twenty-two miles per hour in her trek around the room and Gina's punch contacted nothing.

Running through Gina, Tesser dropped her speed and grabbed Gina's hair as she became solid again. The result was Gina landing painfully on her back, her neck and head throbbing.

"Nice trick, girl." Josiah said with a bored tone. "But you're solid now." He reached over and tapped the speedster as she passed, causing her to stop in her tracks. Josiah's codename was Avatar because he could control the physical actions of others like other people could control their avatar in video games. Now, with a tap, he had taken control of Tesser.

Noah staggered to his feet, teeth grinding. He glared in Ian's direction. "Well, if you really are here to help us, do something. We're the only family each other has. We're kin." His green eyes whirled with emotion.

Ian nodded, and then nodded to Alexis. "Don't worry Noah, we've got kin too. And we've taken on Enforcers before."

"That one almost killed you." Alexis pointed out.

"He didn't need to hear that." Ian noted.

##

##

## The Kin (Part 4)

Acting against the heartfelt demands of her brain, Tesser's body turned toward Noah. She felt her muscles tense and her power beginning to build within her unbidden. In the few months she had spent at the Academy, she had heard of some of the powers possessed by psionics that allowed them some form of control over others.

Powerful telepaths could simply make someone decide to act. Some empaths, Noah excluded, could change someone's feelings to the point that they acted in a given manner. At some point, she had even heard rumors that one of her classmates had the ability to possess other people outright.

Despite knowing all of these different methods by which her mind could be usurped, Tesser hadn't been prepared for this. She had always assumed that when one was mind controlled, one would be ignorant of the fact until some time later, after waking up from a daze. But whatever the Enforcer was doing to her wasn't mind control at all. She was completely in control of her mind, but her body was no longer answering her will.

Taunt muscles sprang into action, power flowed and Tesser's body launched itself at Noah. Tesser wanted desperately to close her eyes, buy even that was beyond her at this point. Her body began its dash toward him. A quick mental calculation told her that she'd slam into him at eight miles per hour.

Josiah smirked to himself. It took only about as much mental effort to hold control over a person's motor functions as it did to breathe, so he found himself thinking more about the rest of the psionics before him. The one he was currently launching at was the bizarre demon thing his compatriot had already injured.

He had files on Tesser and Incubus, both of whom were soon to be out of the equation. He also had files on Kevin Quaid, known as Blank, but Impact had already taken him out as well. That left the two unknowns that Impact had followed to the facility. He decided that his next move would be to close on the woman – he rather liked the idea of forcing women to carry out his will...

Pain suddenly blossomed in his thigh. Looking down, he realized that he had left out part of his calculations.

Tears in her eyes, Rain kept a white-knuckled grip on the pen she'd just jabbed into the Enforcer's thigh. She didn't know much – didn't remember much – but Tesser and Noah and Blank were her friends and this man and the blonde woman were hurting them. She resolved not to let go until she could think of some other way to help them.

Halfway to Noah, Tesser stumbled and fell, tumbling into his legs and toppling him over.

Shouting in pain, Josiah lifted his hand to give the rain maker the punch in the head Impact had wanted to deliver. A sudden gale kicked up and he was struck solidly in the chest, spinning him around and breaking the pen off in his thigh.

"You two are a couple of real pieces of work." Ian said, preparing to launch another fusillade at Josiah. "Seriously, attacking a kid? Helping people that do this kind of stuff to kids?" he spat the last part, his disgust apparent.

Josiah braced himself against the wall, his mind still reeling with pain. "You don't know the half of it, guy." He said, with a feral expression. His free hand traveled inside his jacket and touched a toggle. Instantly, the pain ebbed as a cocktail of chemicals increased his production of adrenaline, endorphins and temporarily accelerated his healing. "Whatever you came here for, it wasn't worth what you're in for."

As this was going on, Impact regained her senses. Everything above and including her lumbar region was aflame. In fact, she thought for a moment that her hair was bleeding. She was tired of those kids. In fact, she had been tired of them since the first week she had spent searching for them.

Rolling to her knees, she spied the little bitch that had put her on her back. She was going to tear her... her...

Impact shook her head. Everything hurt. She felt like wretching from the pain. Worst, she didn't even remember getting on her knees like this. What had she been doing? Gritting her teeth, she spied the girl, Tesser, who was the source of this... this...

Blinking, Impact wondered why and when she had risen to her knees. She was in incredible pain and not yet willing to waste her Apollo unit on temporary relief. What was going on? She knew she hadn't been knocked out, so why did it seem like time had passed? Wherever she tried to put two and two together, she came back drawing a... Blank. "Son of a bitch!" she exclaimed, snapping her gaze onto Kevin, who lay on his side, watching her and counting backward.

Impact's mind raced. Kevin Quaid was a low level telepath. So low, in fact, that he had only one 'trick' in his repertoire of mentalism – he could erase eleven seconds of a person's memory. He could do this at will, but to be of any use, he'd have to use it on his foes every... every...

Impact groaned. Her skin and muscles burned and knotted. Why was she on her knees? And why was she staring at the telepath known as Blank? Even more strange, why was he counting backward from eleven? Then it clicked. "Stop that!" She demanded, lashing out with a kick to the boy's head.

Impact's personal brush with Groundhog's Day ended with Kevin sprawling on the floor. Behind her, she heard Josiah mocking the two unknown psionics. Her anger at the teens who had eluded her for weeks abated as her professional mind told her to deal with the mystery element first.

Noah righted himself into a crouching position. Tesser was still on the ground, breathing hard, but not gasping for breath. "Are you okay, Tillie?" He asked, trying to focus his emotion reading ability on her alone, but failing to maintain it for more than a moment.

"Yeah, just got the wind knocked out of me." She sighed. "We've got to stop that guy before he takes someone else over."

Noah nodded, shaking his horns furiously. "You got it, Tillie. I'll settle this with one punch." With that, he gathered himself up and sprang at the rapidly recovering Josiah. The highly trained Enforcer stepped forward to tap Noah with his power as he flew overhead.

But Noah saw the plot and snapped open his wings, stopping himself short of Josiah's reach. "I saw what you did to Tesser." He snarled. "You need to touch me to take me over." His eyes flashed a brighter green. "Well that's not going to happen."

Impact kipped up into a crouched position, ready to give Noah another hard punch. A black flare flashed past her head as she made her move, knocking her slightly off balance. "Don't even think about it." Alexis said, willing another bolt of black heat into her hand just in case.

"And I was worried you weren't going to do anything." Impact said wryly. With that, she stomped the ground, redirecting the kinetic energy from that back up into her and launching her into the air. Alexis hurled her black heat at the Enforcer, but Impact kicked off the wall and slammed into her. Both women tumbled across the lab floor.

Impact landed on top and raised her fist. "Screw control. I'm going to kill every last one of y—" At that moment, she was thrown sideways as Tesser barged into her.

"You're not going to kill anyone." Tesser said triumphantly as she stood over the fallen Enforcer and the strange woman she didn't know. Her revelry was short lived as Impact planted a super kinetic kick in her stomach, knocking her away.

"I am SO tired of you people." Impact said. "Now you be a good girl and writhe in pain while I..." She looked at where Alexis had been lying. She was gone. "What the hell?" she asked, seconds before Alexis slammed her flashlight into Impact's kidneys. As the Enforcer turned to face her, she smacked her in the face with the implement, stunning her for a moment.

"Invisibility." Alexis gave a deceptively sweet smile. "Very limited, but luckily, so are you."

Meanwhile, Noah faced off with Josiah, his out stretched wings blocking the enforcer from Ian's view. So far, thanks to his realization that Josiah needed skin to skin contact to use his powers, it was one sided. While his claws were unable to penetrate the enforcer's body armor, he had forced Josiah into a corner. Finally, with a leg sweep, he toppled the Los Angelino and stood over him, claws ready for the kill.

"It's over, Enforcer." Noah said, broadcasting terror into the Avatar's mind. "This is for my friends – my new family. You and your superiors will never haunt us again!" The clawed hand came down, but the sound that followed wasn't the sound of bones cracking and flesh rending. It was the slap of flesh on flesh.

Noah looked down at his hand – his human hand. He was reverting to human form. Since he had began transforming into his Incubus form, usually in times of stress, or when his blood sugar rose too high, but occasionally voluntarily, he had learned that he had no control as to how long it lasted. At times, he would remain in that form for days, sometimes, minutes – he could neither prolong it, nor end it prematurely. Now, it was ending on its own.

His own shock made him lose control of the terror he was pumping into Josiah who gave him a wicked grin and kicked him away. "And that, my friend is why you're just a C38." He watched Noah's flesh twisting almost painfully as he reverted for a moment, and then took out a cigarette to replace the one he'd dropped when Rain stabbed him.

A gust of wind blew it out. He looked up to see Ian glaring at him, a vortex of air forming around him. "Oh hell." He said, trying to dodge as a fist of air came at him. He was slammed hard against the wall.

Sliding down the wall, he triggered his second Apollo unit. Training for the device advised not using two within an hour of one another. For this reason, most Enforcers only had one in their tactical armor. Josiah however reveled in the feeling of power and speed he got from it and had three. In practice, he used two at once when fighting very powerful foes and kept one in reserve. At the moment, he was just using the second to stop the ringing in his ears.

Charging Ian, he dodged two more fists of wind and planted a knee in the other man's midsection, doubling him over. Immediately, he brought his clasped hands down on Ian's back, sending him to the floor. "Now I'm curious." Josiah said, putting a foot on the back of Ian's head. "Which other Enforcer almost killed you?"

Across the lab, Impact reeled. Her opponent had wreathed herself in what appeared to be shadow, but the increase in temperature in her immediate vicinity suggested something worse. She wasn't quite sure how to deal with her without receiving some nasty burns.

Then, she saw an opening. As Josiah put down the other unknown psionic, her opponent turned in his direction – her distraction causing her to drop her protective field of black heat. Impact lunged, but was suddenly taken off her feet.

At twenty-one miles per hour, Tesser tackled the Enforcer, and then increased her speed ever so slightly. "I bet you read my file." Tesser said to her captive as she dragged her forward. "You know about my speed, the fact I can go through things – but you didn't know I could take people with me."

Impact gasped, the air having been driven out of her by the tackle and the sudden change in velocity. She glanced backward, seeing the stasis cells coming at her fast. Suddenly, she realized the girl's plan – but it was too late.

Tesser shoved the other woman out in front of her just as she cut her speed to nil. She ended up standing just outside the stasis cell. Impact ended up inside. With a flick of her wrist, she turned the locking handle, sealing the cell. "It's not on, but we'll be long gone by the time you get out." She said, heaving a sigh of relief.

"Not talking?" Josiah asked Ian mockingly. The effort of delivering such a beating was evident in his deep breaths. "Oh well, I'd better stomp your spine so you don't get away." A series of tiny black flames lanced into him, burning like hot needles. He started and reflexively stepped sideways out of the stinging hail. He looked up to see Alexis, covered in her black heat, sending streams of the painful needles his way.

"I thought Impact had you." He glared.

"You also thought you were breathing heavily because you were winded." Ian said, flipping over. Now able to see Josiah, he was able to focus his power on further lowering the density of the air around his nose and mouth. The Enforcer known as Avatar gasped and stumbled as his lungs emptied air into the space. His vision blurred.

"Relax." Ian said, getting to his feet. "I'm not going to kill you. Unlike you, I'm no monster." With that, he released a pulse of wind into Josiah's forehead, knocking the man out. As his foe fell, Ian looked around. "Everyone alright... or at least without life threatening injuries?"

Noah and Rain were kneeling beside Kevin. "He's okay, just got a little smacked around." Noah said.

"We should put that guy in a cell too." Tesser said, indicating Josiah. Ian nodded and started dragging him toward one. Alexis came over to help.

"So who are you guys?" Rain asked, putting words to what was on the minds of all of her new family.

"We're exactly what we said we were." Alexis said, opening the cell so Ian could push Josiah inside. "We saved some kids from the Academy a little over a month ago. We heard about the possibility of someone here needing our help, so we came to see if we could give it."

"Thank you both for that." Noah said. "You saved just about all we have left."

"Hey, like I said, we've got kin too – the kids we saved have kind of grown on us." Ian said. "If you want to, all of you are welcome to come with us."

Noah shook his head. "I said thanks, not that I trust you." He looked at the others, asking a question that didn't need to be put in words. Tesser and Rain nodded. "Besides, I promised them we'd be headed to Miami after this... live on the beach, maybe see if we can learn more about everything that's happened to us."

Alexis nodded. "Well, we'll do anything we can to help you guys. A friend of ours is a sort of computer genius – when you get to wherever you're headed, find an internet café and send a message to beautifuldreamer on the Kingston East Network. She'll hook you guys up with a place to stay, money – whatever, okay?"

"I appreciate that." Noah said. "And I think we'll definitely take you up on it."

"No problem." Alexis smiled at the young man. "As long as you guys are trying to take care of yourselves and trying to keep out of the Academy's – and this Project Tome's hands, you can consider us kin too."

"And everything that entails." Ian added.

***

The sun was setting as Laurel's SUV left Quinn Bluffs. Ian was driving and Alexis was on her cell phone. "No, Laurel, they're going their own way." She was saying. "Really, we're lucky they're even accepting our help. If I was in their shoes, I wouldn't trust us either."

She shifted the phone to the other ear and settled into her seat. "Anyway, we've got plenty for you to look into. Something called a bio-map and a broken voice recorder. Oh, and you better get Vimes fired up on this one – I have a feeling that Project Tome means something far worse for people like us than just the Academy betraying us."

End Issue #2

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# Issue #3: Gather

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## Gather (Part 1)

'Time heals all wounds' was something often said to people who were wounded; either in body or in spirit to trick them into unfounded optimism. The fact was, however, that time passing was the exact source of Melissa's 'wound'.

A decade could change a great deal about the world and that was difficult enough to accept for people that lived through the gradual slide into the new status quo. But Melissa had literally slipped into unconsciousness one moment and awakened ten years later. She hadn't even aged.

Before she had been placed in stasis, the country had been at war in Brazil, headbands and goggles had been the newest fashion trend and the papers had been abuzz about construction beginning on a permanent human habitation in space. She had awakened into a world where Brazil was called a 'trusted ally' in the papers and bleached white jeans were hip. The lunar habitat was still a hopeless pipedream though. She didn't know why that made her feel a tiny bit better, but it did.

The world just felt wrong to her. It didn't help that she hadn't changed while the world did. She was a sixteen year old with the tastes and memories of a twenty-five year old. Laurel had suggested she spend more time with 'people her age', meaning Warrick and Cyn. But Melissa knew in her heart that she was, in reality almost twice their age.

Laurel was only trying to help, but she was completely wrong. Laurel was always trying to help, it was her creed; when in doubt, try to help someone out. A wonderful strategy in fantasy based gaming, but Melissa found it annoying in real life – especially since it seemed to work. It seemed ironic to Melissa that Laurel could do more for people's moods with her personality than she could do with powers that did specifically that.

Not that Melissa liked her power. In fact, she hated it. It was wholly useless and worked seemingly on its own volition. On top of that, she had developed the ability to heal everyone but herself. Time heals all wounds, so did Melissa's powers. But neither could heal her wounds.

***

A knock on her door interrupted Melissa's thoughts as she lay on her bed, a pillow covering her eyes. She imagined that if she ignored the knocking, the one responsible for it would lose interest and leave. The only person she cared to talk to at Freeland House was Kareem and for the past week, he had spent most of his time with Laurel working on some project or other.

The knocking didn't cease. It only became louder. Melissa pressed the pillow over her ears and pretended it wasn't happening. There was a clicking sound and suddenly the door flew open, accompanied by the cool breeze of Freeland House's recently installed air conditioning.

"Up and at 'em Princess of Pout!" Cyn's voice said as the clunk of heavy boots approached. "I come bearing gifts."

Every Friday, Melissa thought, this was becoming a ritual. Cynthia – Cyn, actually, now that she'd finally convinced everyone to refer to her as such – barged into Melissa's room every Friday afternoon, demanding she take part in whatever thing she and Warrick had planned. Last week had been a 'battle of the bands' at a local café in the Hills.

"I don't want to go anywhere with you two." Melissa groaned.

"Yeah, I get that." Cyn said, brushing it off. "You hate us because you're technically older than us or something. Fine. Be that way. I'm not going to just give up because of a little thing like you despising me."

There was a sinking feeling in the pit of Melissa's stomach. She didn't hate Cyn or Warrick anymore than she'd hated Alexis, Ian and Laurel back when those three tried to get her involved in their lives. She just wasn't a people person. But voicing that notion would simply encourage Cyn's attempts to force her into being personable, so she held her tongue.

The bed shifted as Cyn perched herself on it. "Of course, this time, you won't have us to put up with. For your information, we're going to the Darkcore concert."

Against her better judgment, Melissa emerged from beneath the pillow. "You two are going to a concert together? Like a date?"

Cyn snorted. "Yeah right. No offense to him; but Warrick's not my idea of a guy."

"You mean, 'ideal guy'?"

"No." Cyn shook her head. "I mean, when I think of, you know a guy – a real guy, I'm thinking somewhere around 6'2'', some muscles, maybe without so many geek-outs as our boy has, you know what I'm saying?"

"Please, you two are joined at the hip half the time. I don't think either of you has gone to town alone since Ian and Alexis came back talking about this whole tomb thing."

"Tome." Cyn said shortly. Mentally, she forced her muscles not to allow her to shiver at the idea of what the Academy and whatever Project Tome was up to with their trepanning, and whatever a 'bio-map' was. The fact that Laurel still didn't know anything about it made her uncomfortable having it in the house. That was part of why she spent so much time out of the house lately; Prelate work as Facsimile not withstanding.

"Yeah, Tome." Melissa said not bothering to hide her fearful reaction. "Anyway, if you two are going on a date, what does that have to do with me?" Until that moment, she hadn't noticed the flier in Cyn's hand. It was now presented forcefully to her.

Below the word GATHER in large, bold letters, intertwined with generic clip art of confetti and dancing couples, was the following:

Find your true happiness with likeminded individuals. Come to Brother Wright's Gather and meet people who wish to be happy like you. Free refreshments and a night of socializing and dancing. Happiness is yours; simply reach out for it.

9pm Friday, June 8, ConquesTech Convention Center Annex

"I just figured that you'd benefit from actually getting off the grounds once in a while. You know, talking to people." Cyn said, letting the flier drop onto Melissa's chest.

"I talk to Kareem." Melissa pouted, retreating back under the pillow.

"Technically, you think to Kareem." Cyn said. "Though with that thing Laurel's working on will let you talk".

"Still, I do... communicate with him." Melissa said. "That counts for something."

"I won't argue that." Cyn shrugged. "Kareem's a nice guy. However, he's not a replacement for the entire rest of the world, no matter how great a guy he is. You need to get out and make friends."

"Oh, like you have." came the reply.

"Actually, yeah." Cyn nodded. "there's a really cool group of people that hang out at the Dungeon – you know that arcade on Sixth Street that's connected to the café? The one we tried to get you to come to the battle of the bands with? Actually, our friend Kay is in one of the bands, she does keyboards—"

"Okay, okay." Melissa sighed. "You've made your point. I'll go to this Gather thing. It sounds lame though... 'true happiness', yeah, right."

"Don't knock it. I've seen this guy on TV. I heard Miranda Elliot – that talk show chick? She swears by his books."

"Oh, that removes all my doubts." Melissa rolled her eyes.

***

Warrick mugged for the mirror as he combed his hair. "So, how's the deal with Ms. Brant's astral plane TV thing coming?" he asked the ether. He'd never gotten the hang of speaking mentally to Kareem, so he just talked conversationally in whatever direction he happened to be facing.

_There are, as Ms. Brant says, 'many, little spiders' to shake out._ Kareem explained, from somewhere in the vicinity of the window. _Most of it is simply learning to control the device from the astral side. On this side, the world is all emotion and memory. It is hard to translate it to the device._

Warrick nodded, not really understanding, as one of the tentacles handed him a can of hairspray. "I bet you can't wait to talk to us... you know, face to face?" He gave his hair a few spritzes and handed the can back to the tentacle, who dutifully returned it to its shelf. "Not that I mind talking like this, but I know the whole mind reading thing is a problem for you."

Yes, I will be very happy not to have to read minds to hold conversations. I do not like the idea of invading the privacy of others for any reason, even something so vital.

"I hear that." Warrick said. "I've had to keep these two from pointing their... whatever tentacles have instead of noses – into other people's business. Or at least not telling me when they do."

I didn't know they spoke to you.

"Not in the normal way. Or telepathically either. I just... know what they mean when they want me to, you understand?"

Very much so. I can understand memories on this plane in much the same way.

"At least I don't feel so weird anymore." Warrick grinned. "So how do I look?" He was wearing a Darkcore T-shirt under a leather vest and black jeans. He had just spent the last twenty minutes shaping his hair into an impossible forest of spikes which protruded in all directions.

_It depends._ Kareem began diplomatically. _Are you attempting to look as if you are seeking a fight?_

"That's what surge metal's all about, my friend." Warrick grinned. The tentacles deformed their tapered ends into reasonable facsimiles of hands; the index and little finger extended while the middle and ring fingers were held down by the thumb – the universal sign of metal being expressed in its purest form.

Mentally, Kareem laughed. _You certainly would be one to know, Warrick._

"I'm just sorry they won't get to listen to the concert. I've got to un-summon them out on the town and all." Warrick frowned.

The door opened without so much as a knock and Cyn clomped in, wearing a dress that was essentially heavy black fabric wrapped around her chest all the way down to her knees. A chain belt somehow caused the whole assemblage to stay in place. Elbow length black gloves with studs sewn into the knuckles completed the ensemble.

Warrick found himself suddenly interested in the ceiling as he caught himself goggling.

"Great news!" Cyn announced, her amusement at Warrick's predicament obvious. "I got Princess Pouty to go to that Gather thing – reluctantly of course."

"Er, that's great." Warrick said, looking at anything but Cyn, which at the moment was his own hands.

_Gather? What is that?_ Kareem asked, making his presence known. On the astral plane, the air practically cracked with Warrick's embarrassment.

"Some little get together thrown buy some pop psychologist or something." Melissa said, speaking out loud for Warrick's benefit. She'd become adept at switching back and forth between thoughts and spoken words when Kareem was involved. "The important thing is that our little girl is finally leaving the nest." She shifted a few tears into existence so as to properly sniff dramatically.

_That is good to hear. I enjoy her company, but she is better off socializing with people..._ Kareem's thoughts trialed off.

"Its nothing about you, Kareem." Cyn quickly explained. "Its just she's anti-social to everyone BUT you."

I know this. I just wish I could do the same.

"Hey, man," Warrick said, still looking elsewhere, "you've got a certified super genius on the case. Ms. Brant will figure something out. And then, Mr. Smythe and Ms. Keyes will kick the crap out of whoever did this to you – just like they did for those kids in Florida."

Cyn laughed lightly. "And we can't go fight crime because 'it will draw too much attention'." She gestured to the door. "Anyway, our cab will be here any minute, so we'd better get moving. See ya later, Kareem."

The pair headed off, leaving Kareem floating alone in the Astral plane.

With very little effort, he moved through the walls and down the hall to Laurel's lab. The genius level psionic was at her computer, no doubt cracking her way into another medical database on the trail of the enigmatic 'bio-map'. The device she had made for Kareem was on one of the worktables, parts of its interface glowing electric blue on the astral side.

Kareem approached it and reached out tentatively toward the interface. It was a small thing, being able to communicate face to face. But it was a first step. A vital first step.

##

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## Gather (Part 2)

One of the meeting rooms at the ConquesTech Convention Center had been transformed into a control room for the night's festivities. A series of thin, flat LED screens had been unrolled and attached to the far wall and a folding table placed before them with two chairs facing that wall. A jumble of computer equipment and wireless transmitter/receivers sat on the table.

Rick Charlotte sat at that table, tapping out commands and checking the LED screens to see the results. By all accounts, he was homely at best. He stood only five feet, two inches tall, with an uneven, olive complexion, a crooked nose, and eyes that weren't the same size by any stretch of the imagination.

The door swung open and a middle-aged man with a bald head, a once brown moustache and an obvious hearing aide jogged in, displaying more energy than even a man half his age rightfully should. "Good evening, Mr. Charlotte!" he smiled, stretching the word evening out. "How are we doing on tonight's enterprise?"

"Hello, Mr. Wright." Rick nodded. "Everything's good to go on my end. I've hijacked the security feeds in the entire east wing and I'm standing by to blind them. Two birds with one stone was never so easy."

"Please, Mr. Charlotte; you've worked for me for two years now. You've earned the right to call me by my first name." Brother smiled at his associate. "Also, that's three birds with one stone."

"Three, Mist—Brother?" He ticked the two 'friends in need' he was aware of off on his fingers. "Jackson Harris of CitiWide Security wants Mayfield Security Systems to lose their contract with ConquesTech for the Convention Center. And Tatiana Farnsworth, AKA Lady Nightshade wants to make a name for herself as a thief. Solution: stage a robbery of the hidden vault here in the Convention Center." He shook his head, "I don't see where a third comes in."

Brother pointed to the row of screens. "If you will, please bring up our file on Mary Northbrooke."

Rick's fingers flew over the keyboard and in a few seconds, the central screen displayed a dossier of a mousey brunette with glasses. "She's a freelance journalist for the Scribe, also works at the Emery Hollow Nursery." He leaned forward, reading the screen. "Under notes, we see that you actually got her placed in her current position and she's just been used for public relations ever since." He looked back up at Brother. "It's the usual arrangement; you made her journalism aspirations happen and in return she makes nice to you. I'm not seeing the relation here."

"That is why I am the kingpin of this operation, Mr. Charlotte." Brother said. "You see, one of our 'very good friends' has a problem with the new prelate team that's been running around lately. He wants them to start earning some bad press. But to do that, we need a 'friend' who is a regular columnist at the Scribe."

"I see where you're going, Mr. Wright, but I have no idea how you're getting there." Rick admitted.

"It came to me in a... simple rush of genius." Brother smiled. "Lady Nightshade is going to need a very eye catching article if she's to make it beyond being 'just another cat burglar'. She's also going to need a distraction." He pointed to another screen. "Pull up the file for Los Lobos de la Noche."

Rick entered the data and displayed the dossier for the minor street gang Brother kept supplied with free weapons in exchange for staging petty crimes. "You haven't tapped these guys for months." Rick commented.

"Mostly because they haven't been successful in living up to their part of our arrangement lately." Brother scowled; a frightening sight for Rick who was used to his light demeanor. "So now I'll be calling in my last favor from them. Ms. Northbrooke will have her story, Lady Nightshade will have her reputation, and Mayfield Security Systems will lose their contract as Mr. Harris requested."

"And the Lobos?"

"I have a feeling they won't see the light of day for... I don't know – how much time does one get for holding a large gathering of people hostage?" Brother laughed and turned to leave. "In any event, I have to get ready for my party. I have a feeling that it will be most eventful."

***

Melissa took the proffered punch glass and resumed her chosen station against the wall of the annex. She was dressed in a simple white dress with a black satin sash around her midsection. The number of expensive suits and designer dresses on the dance floor made her feel that she was severely underdressed.

Now that she looked, however, that may not have been an accurate assumption. The participants at the Gather came from all walks of life and from all age groups. It was, however, strange to see so many obviously wealthy people in one place – especially when they were acting so... normal.

She shrugged and leaned back against the wall, sampling the punch. The flier had promised 'likeminded people'. These people were not of like minds with her at all. If they were, they wouldn't be out on the dance floor; dancing, laughing –"

"Enjoying yourself?"

Melissa nodded. Exactly, they wouldn't be enjoying themselves, she thought. Then she realized that that question wasn't in response to her thoughts. She looked to her left and saw a bald, middle-aged man with a moustache. He was in an expensive tuxedo with a white carnation tucked in his lapel. "Oh... uh..." she stammered, caught off guard. She never knew what to say in social situations and this man was twice her age even considering her time in stasis.

"I certainly hope so." Brother Wright said with a warm smile. "I don't throw these for my own health you know, young lady?"

"You throw..." Melissa said dumbly. "Oh, you must be Brother Wright!"

"Alive and well." Brother said. "So, what do you think of my Gather so far?"

"Oh, you don't want to talk to me." Melissa shrugged. "There are lots of important people here. Way more important than me."

A look of concern crossed Brother's eyes. It was the same look of concern that appeared on the dust jackets of his books. "On the contrary, young lady, this is exactly why I throw this party – to make people happy. That means that you are just as important as anyone here." Mentally, he patted himself on the back. His usual talk show psychologist spiel was usually enough get his hooks in a perspective mark. After that, it would be child's play to discern if the girl would be useful or not. "Tell me, would being 'important' make you happy?"

"I don't know." Melissa shrugged. "I've never thought about it, really."

"You've never thought about what would make you happy? Dear child, that's the majority of what most people think about." Brother pressed.

Melissa took a sip of her punch. The irony of having one of the most famous psychologists in the country at her disposal, yet being unable to tell him her problems on pain of whatever horrid fate the Academy held over her and the others was not lost on her. "I just... don't think too much about it is all." She said, shifting the weight from foot to foot.

The girl was clearly lying. Brother hadn't spent the last two decades studying people and their behavior without learning how to spot a lie. His interest was piqued. What could a teenager have to hide from a pop icon such as himself? Perhaps it was something he could use as blackmail material.

"Are you sure about that, young lady? I mean, if you tell me, it is very possible that I can make it happen. You've seen me on _The Miranda Elliot Show_ – you've seen the 'true to life stories' of people I've helped make their lives better."

Somewhere in Melissa's mind, she wondered if this was her chance. Maybe Brother was so influential that she could tell him everything about the Academy and he could let the world know. If the secret was out, the Academy couldn't touch anyone at Freeland House without exposing itself even worse. All she had to do was trust...

A television psychologist who despite all of his altruism was still just a mortal man. A mortal man that Prometheus or Impact or any other Academy Enforcer would have little difficulty utterly destroying. The Academy was trepanning kids; it was certainly not above assassinating celebrities. Telling him, Melissa realized, would be the death of him.

"Erm... excuse me, Mr. Wright. It was wonderful meeting you, but I really need to... powder my nose." She said quickly. She sat her drink down and rushed off through the crowd toward the restrooms.

Brother frowned after her. Too bad, he thought. He checked his watch. It was 10:56 – four minutes until the fireworks started.

***

Melissa's forehead came to rest against the bathroom mirror with a quiet thump. She had almost killed a man because she wasn't strong enough to shoulder her own burden. Not only him but possibly everyone at Freeland House.

She couldn't live with herself if she ended up being the cause of pain or death to the people who had tried so hard to be her friends, both past and present. The fact was, she wouldn't even be at the Gather if Cyn hadn't been trying to help her. As annoying as she could be; Cyn, like everyone else, was just trying to help her.

And the truth was she didn't resent the people, or the help, but herself -for making all of their efforts for naught. The fact was that she just wasn't a social person, no matter how much the others wanted to pull her out into the world.

Maybe she wasn't a happy person either. That would explain why she never was, surely. Some people are born destined for certain things. Some were born for greatness, some were born for certain jobs – maybe she was born for unhappiness.

She rolled her eyes at herself in the mirror for that thought. It really wasn't true to say that she was always unhappy. She had been, in her own way perfectly happy before the Academy betrayed her. Obviously, she still hadn't been the kind of person who went to parties or hung out with friends, but she did find joy in simply listening to good music and reading a book. Even now, when she felt like she had lost everything, she wasn't unhappy all the time. Talking to Kareem always helped her climb out of her moods and to be honest, she always found it comforting that despite her pushing them away, the other Freeland House residents still thought about her and did what they could to make her comfortable.

A lifetime ago, she had tried to explain to Laurel that she wasn't going to be miserable just because other people were doing things and she wasn't. This hadn't really stopped the young genius from trying with her, but it had dulled her sense of urgency. It was entirely possible that given more time, they could have come to be friends.

Melissa stood up straight and adjusted her dress. Maybe she could explain things to Cyn and reach some kind of happy medium between reclusion and being pushed to be a part of everything. She forced herself to smile at herself in the mirror. Brother Wright would never know it, but he had helped her tonight.

Finishing up her self maintenance, Melissa walked to the bathroom door. The moment her hand touched the handle, the sound of gunfire tore the air above the din of the party.

***

They had infiltrated the party completely unnoticed. The Gather was an open party, so no one was particularly concerned to see the gang colors and small badges worn in the young men's' ears. There had never been violence at a Gather in all of its five year history—cutting edge weapon detection scanners made sure of this. No one suspected that those scanners would be disabled specifically for these men.

The clock struck ten and Jacob "Jay" Willis pulled the bandana around his neck up to cover his mouth and nose. It was an old fashioned disguise, but Jay was a fan of the 'classics'. Pulling his automatic pistol from his jacket, he ripped off a few shots into the air. "Everybody, get on the goddamn floor!" He bellowed as he saw his fellow Lobos drawing their own weapons. The doors all around the annex slammed shut, guarded by three heavily armed gang members.

Jay leveled his weapon at the sound system and blasted it to pieces in a hail of sparks. The music died abruptly. He quickly turned his weapon on a nearby partygoer who was too slow to comply. "I said get on the goddamn floor, right now. I will tear yo' ass up if you don't do what I say, you hear me?!"

With all of the partygoers on the ground, he nodded to the Lobos not charged with guard duty. Thirty years ago, the Lobos had been exclusively a Hispanic gang. Now, they came from all races, though it was still seen as an accomplishment in their ranks for a half-African, half-Irish man like Jay to have taken control of the gang. Crime, after all, was an equal opportunity employer. "Stick with the plan, 'kay? Jewelry, watches, and cash money. Smalls, Train – check the coatroom, the bathrooms, and anywhere else somebody may be hiding."

The gang members fanned out, snatching what valuables they could find from the terrified guests. Jay personally sought out Brother and made a show of stealing his watch.

"I better get that back." Brother hissed at his co-conspirator. Jay only nodded slightly as he slipped the watch into his pocket.

His business completed, Jay turned to the hostages. It would be so simple just to make a break for it with their loot. But Brother had his own plan in mind. He'd promised a big payday – something Jay just couldn't resist. Brother, after all, had always been right before.

"Okay, listen up!" He shouted. He got a rush of power from having all of those people at his mercy. "You all better get real comfortable, 'cause nobody's going nowhere until Lester Mendel pays us ten mil' for your sorry asses."

***

Rick watched the chaos unfold on the various security feeds. On another screen he saw the soon to be infamous Lady Nightshade entering the administrative wing via a window that was lacking its usual security sensors.

Everything was going as planned. Holding the Gather in the annex itself had helped. The annex was often used for live theatre and had cell phone jamming devices installed by default. No cell phones ever registered signal inside the annex. Someone would have to fight past the guards on the doors and into the hall to even have hope of—

Something caught his eye on one of the upper monitors. Two gangsters Rick knew as Smalls and Train were dragging a young red head out of the bathroom and down the hall toward the annex. But it wasn't the thugs or the girl that caught his eye. It was the little silver cell phone she'd just dropped.

"Oh, we're so humped." Rick pulled up a console connecting to the nearby cell towers. Maybe he could call back using her number and report a false alarm... A few keystrokes pulled up her last dialed number and Rick breathed a sigh of relief. "Huh. Guess she was talking to someone when the boys started their little hostage situation." He mused.

##

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## Gather (Part 3)

The last, roaring strains of _Tear into It_ were met with roaring applause as Darkcore prepared to launch into their next song.

"I told you this would be worth the hundred bucks, Kaine!" Kay Greycloud, a short, plump girl of Cheyenne ancestry shouted to Warrick over the din. The two were part of a knot of five teens standing out on the lawn of the Woodlowe National Parks for the Performing Arts main pavilion. Kay had dyed her hair brilliant silver for the occasion.

"They're great," Warrick shouted back, "But I still say Our Ladies of Armageddon are the best band on Earth! "

"Apples and oranges, Kaine." Kay said. "OLA is old school thrash metal – I mean turn of the century!"

"Doesn't make what the man said less true!" Jonathan Slate, better known to his friends as JC said, joining the debate. " _Burning Down the Garden_ is like the top – the pena—"He fumbled on his words.

"Pinnacle." Warrick supplied.

"Yeah, pinnacle of quality." He gestured at the stage. "Darkcore's got the best guitar and drums this side of Persistent Knives, but Randal Borsinski is no Finch Lewis when it comes to lyrics, so OLA's the hands down winner."

"You just like OLA because it's an all girl band." Lisa Ortega rolled her eyes at her on again, off again boyfriend. She gestured to her brother Zack, who looked very uncomfortable with the crowd. "He doesn't even like music and he's got an OLA poster."

"Hey, his crush on Robin Saunders has nothing to do with my appreciating good lyrics." JC said defensively.

"Robin?" Warrick said, making a face. "Dude, if you're going to have the hots for any of them, at least pick Garuda."

You know, I like OLA and all," Kay said, "But I never got the 'we all have bird names' thing."

"Glad to see I didn't miss any meaningful conversation." Cyn said, emerging from the crowd just as the opening drums for _Explode_ began to play. She immediately directed her attention toward Warrick. "Can I talk to your for a second?"

"But... but... _Explode_..." Warrick whined only half heartedly.

"Come on." Cyn said, grabbing his arm. To the others, she gave an apologetic look "Sorry guys. See you at the Dungeon Monday night? They're showing Twentieth Century action movies 'til 3am." Taking only enough time to see Kay nod, Cyn hustled Warrick off through the crowd.

"Wow." Kay said to Lisa. "She couldn't even wait 'til the end of the concert to get him alone."

Lisa smirked. "I can't blame her. With all the nervous eating she does around him, she'd probably be broke from buying peanuts before the concert was over."

***

"So... why are we leaving a half hour early?" Warrick asked as the two walked out of the main gates toward the taxi Cyn had hailed.

"Melissa called me while I was at the concession stand." Cyn explained. "She sounded freaked out. She said she'd heard shooting, then..." she shivered as she hugged herself. "the line went dead. I think I heard someone shout right before."

Warrick frowned. "Any chance she's just faking to get out of going to that Gather thing?"

"I doubt it. It isn't like she couldn't just take a cab home by herself, you know?"

"So you think that someone's attacked the convention center?" Warrick asked, holding the cab door open for Cyn.

"No idea. Let's just get there and check it out."

***

"Steel, copper and lead all in a neat little package." Warrick stood against the concrete wall of the ConquesTech Convention Center adjacent to the annex. "I'd say we're positive for guns—at least fifteen of them and that's just what's in range of my metal sense. That ballroom's a big place."

"Oh, man," Cyn fretted. She was already in the shape of the gold skinned Facsimile. "Melissa wouldn't even be in there if it wasn't for me. I hope she's okay."

"She'll be okay, Cyn." Warrick said, coming to place a hand on her shoulder. "And this is definitely not your fault. The guys whose fault it is are about to get a righteous ass kicking from Life Savers, Inc."

Cyn smiled at him. "Hey, remember the rules. In this form, I'm Facsimile."

"Sure thing, Fax." Warrick said, summoning the tentacles. _Sorry you missed the concert, boys_ , he thought to them. "Okay, let's get to the roof and come in through the air ducts."

"You know that in real life, air ducts are seldom big enough to crawl through, right?" Cyn asks.

"And you know that I can just widen them with my powers." Warrick pointed out.

Not to be outdone, Cyn jerked her thumb towards the wall. "And with those powers, you could just rip the rebar out of this wall and go in this way."

Warrick frowned. "That's not nearly as cool."

"It is if you use that rebar to armor up at the same time you tear the hole in the wall."

Grinning, Warrick turned to the wall. "Let's tear into it then." He pointed, a wholly extraneous action, and the wall came apart in a cloud of rapidly disintegrated concrete, plaster,a steel beam, many pieces of rebar and a good length of electrical wiring suddenly rushed outward to encase Warrick. The metal flowed over him like water, solidifying into full plate that reminded Cyn of the crusades. Even covered in plaster dust, it gleamed.

There was a moment of stunned silence as the Lobos attempted to sort out what had just happened. One minute, they were completely in control of the situation. The next, the wall had spontaneously erupted into a cloud of choking, white dust.

The thug closest to the breach was the first to react to the armored figure that had suddenly appeared before him. He raised his automatic and pulled the trigger, only to have a burst of fire and smoke burst from the chamber and ignite his sleeve.

Screaming, he dropped the weapon, his mind barely registering the warped condition of the barrel. "Shoot that thing!" He shouted, trying to beat out the flames licking up his arm.

"Thing?" Warrick remarked as a trio of gang members opened fire on him. "Now that just hurts." The tentacles whipped out at his assailants, their tips suddenly forming into sharp swords that easily sliced their weapons in half. On their return stroke, they pummeled the attackers with the flats of their blades, knocking them back. "It doesn't hurt as much as that, granted..." Warrick grinned beneath his visor.

Cyn flew in behind him, winging up toward the ceiling.

"It's the prelates!" Jay shouted "kill 'em!"

"Easier said than done." Cyn allowed one of the gangsters to send a burst of automatic fire into her chest. She gave him a sadistic grin as she grabbed him by the shirt and hurled him into one of his friends.

From his place on the floor, Brother watched as the Prelates of Mayfield – Life Savers, Inc—made short work of his lackeys. True, he had expected a SWAT team to make short work of the Lobos, but he couldn't believe the speed with which thirty gang members became twelve gang members and eighteen unconscious or disarmed men.

Their power was overwhelming. Brother knew about psionics, but those he had met and integrated into his networking scam were next to useless; able to read books with a touch, or float a few inches off the ground. The Academy snapped up all of the useful ones long before Brother could notice them.

This would have to change.

Warrick sent a wave of his power in the direction of two more gang members, reducing their guns, as well as any stray bits of metal they wore, to liquid slag in moments. Without weapons, the thugs suddenly lost their will to fight and like the rest of their brethren before them, tried to run.

"Not so fast, boys." Cyn leapt upon them and bore them to the ground. "You have an appointment with the Mayfield PD." She thumped their heads together and let them drop. "Huh. You're kind of cute." She said absentmindedly to one. "That's NOT going to be good for you in jail."

Jay looked around in disbelief. His boys had been utterly decimated in only a short few minutes. The plan was falling apart. He wouldn't even get the jewelry; much less the ten million Brother had promised Lester Mendel would pay for the hostages. He was out of options. All that was left now was to try and make his own escape.

Picking up a piece of broken table, he dashed over to Brother. "Sorry, Boss, but I need to get outta here." He whispered as he lifted his employer up by his collar.

"Listen up, prelates!" He shouted. "Back off my boys, or Mr. Humanitarian ain't throwing no more parties." He menaced Brother with the stake.

Warrick stopped where he was, tentacles still hovering ominously over a fallen gangster. Cyn back-winged, hovering near the ceiling.

Across the room, Melissa chewed her lip. She had just saved Brother's life by keeping her problems to herself. Now it looked like that was for nothing. She wanted to do something about all this – to stop the thug before he hurt the man who had tried to help her. But he was too far away and she didn't have any way to hurt him. Tears started to form in her eyes.

"Now that I got your attention," Jay addressed Warrick and Cyn. "Me and this dude are going to walk out of here and you aren't going to do shit, you understand?"

"Perfectly." Cyn growled, still hovering.

Warrick glared at Jay through his visor. He knew that the tentacles were fast enough to take Jay down, but he didn't know if they could do so without the hostage being hurt. The tentacles themselves mentally chattered their confidence, but he wasn't so sure.

"What about you, tin can?" Jay demanded angrily.

Warrick gritted his teeth and nodded.

"Good." Jay sneered. "Come on." He said, ushering Brother toward the hole in the wall. As he did so, he stepped over the warped gun the first Lobo had wielded. Warrick saw his opportunity. The gun melted and flowed over Jay's shoes, causing him to stumble.

At the same moment, the tentacles lashed out, their tips expanded into heavy weights. But Jay's stumble made them miscalculate and both missed, pummeling the wall instead.

Jay fell with Brother and rolled on top of him. Rage boiled up in him. They dared to call his bluff? No one made him look like a bitch. He raised the stake to plunge into Brother's throat. "That's it, you just killed this..." He suddenly sighed. His rage melted away. All of his tensions, all of his anxiety and anger were gone; replaced by a sublime happiness—for exactly the two seconds it took for the tentacles to right themselves and knock him unconscious.

An eerie silence filled the annex as Brother rolled the limp form of Jay off him. "How'd you do that?" He asked the duo that called themselves Life Saver's Inc.

"We... didn't" Cyn said, speechless for the first time.

Warrick was the first to break out of the confusion. "Is everyone okay? We can call the hospital before we call the cops." Across the room, he saw Melissa staring at the scene, seemingly in another world. No one claimed injury, so he nodded to Cyn. "On that note, Facsimile, I think it's time we left."

As the heroes left, Melissa sank back against an overturned table and heaved a sigh of relief.

"They were amazing." A woman nearby her said. She had a notebook out and was writing furiously.

"Yeah, they were." Melissa said with a nod. "What are you writing?" She asked after a few moments.

"Notes for my story." The brown haired woman said. "That wasn't just amazing, that was front page of the _Scribe_ amazing." Mary Northbrooke smiled wistfully. "And I've got the exclusive story!"

##

##

## Gather (Part 4)

It was well past midnight when Melissa ascended the monumental set of stairs that led to Freeland House. It was a cool, crisp, June night and the crickets and tree frogs were singing their hymnals to the wonderful weather.

Melissa stopped at the top of the stairs to take in the natural chorus and take a long look at the beauty that was the newly restored Freeland House in the moonlight. Most of the patio had been completely restored, including the stone benches and planters that lined it. The only new addition was the giant flower bed that stood in the center of the round patio; it was standing in for the fountain that had taken up that space once upon a time.

"You're late, young lady." Alexis's voice came from the shadow of a dogwood that grew near the edge of the patio. "You missed curfew."

"I-I didn't know we had one." Melissa stammered.

There was a giggle and Cyn emerged from the shade. "That's probably because we don't have one." She said. "But you know you're still late. Enjoy the party?"

"I was tied up with the police—had to give them my eyewitness report." She sat down on one of the benches.

"The police!" Cyn gave her best fake gasp. "Oh my god, 'lissa, what happened?"

Melissa raised an eyebrow. "I'm pretty sure you know the story already... Facsimile was it?"

Cyn frowned in mock confusion. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Cynthia, I have no life. I read the papers. Seriously, you're a shapeshifter and all, but did you really think I wouldn't recognize the same tentacle things that weird me out every single morning?"

Shrugging, Cyn came to sit next to Melissa. "There's got to be like a dozen metal controlling Italians with aluminum tentacles in Mayfield." She gave an innocent smile. "You're not going to tell Alexis are you? She'd make us stop and we've been doing so—"

"Don't worry, Cynthia." Melissa said, gesturing for the white haired girl to stop panicking. "Your secret's safe with me. I mean it's the least I could do after you saved my life."

Cyn smiled at her red headed housemate. "Thanks. And what's Brother Wright going to do to pay you back for saving his life?"

"How did you know I did that?"

"Seriously, you're a quiet, shy girl, but its pretty obvious to me when a crazy gang-banger goes all goofy and wide eyed in the presence of the girl that lives in the room next to mine whose power is mood elevation." Cyn said in exactly the same tone Melissa previously used.

"I guess I deserved that." Melissa said, nodding.

For a moment, they both sat there, saying nothing. Then Melissa leaned back and looked up at the stars. "So... how'd the date go?"

"It wasn't a date." Cyn snorted. "We went to the Darkcore concert with Kay and JC and the rest of the gang from the Dungeon."

"It can be a date with friends there." Melissa said.

"Well it wasn't." Cyn said. "Besides, Warrick's all about Kay anyway."

"And how does that make you feel?" Melissa asked.

"What business is it of yours?" Cyn asked, a bit more sharply than she had intended.

"Not one bit." Melissa said. "I'm just wondering if you like how it feels to have someone always sticking her nose in your business is all." There was not venom in her voice, just a simple question.

"Okay, I get it, I shouldn't try so hard to make you do stuff with us." Cyn finally said. "But you've got to give a little too, 'lissa. We live under the same roof and I really don't see why you hate us so much. Okay, I kind of understand why you hate me, but not Warrick; the guy's a puffball—a really skinny one, but still a puffball."

"I don't hate you, Cynthia." Melissa sighed. "I just... I don't like having to talk to people when I don't have to and having to put on a show for people."

"No one's making you put on a show." Cyn said. "We want you to be you. But we want you to be you while hanging out with us."

"I don't like meeting new people..."

"Then don't. Hey, Warrick's been bugging me to watch that _Malady Place_ show he loves so much. There's no talking involved in watching TV, right? How about you suffer with me?" Cyn's mischievous grin shone in the moonlight.

"Okay, deal." Melissa said and went back to looking up at the sky. Some time later, she asked another question. "So, how does it feel?"

"How does what feel?"

"The whole Prelate thing. Saving lives, protecting the innocent—that sort of thing."

"Amazing." Cyn said, "When I'm Facsimile and I'm pulling some guy out of a smashed up car, or stopping some kid from falling off a bridge, I feel like I'm on fire. It's like there's this light in me that's finally getting a chance to shine." She shrugged. "Of course, you got a taste of it tonight. How did it feel to you?"

"Good, I guess. At the time I was just scared, I felt a little sick too. But after, I really felt good about myself. I understand why you don't want Ms. Keyes to know about it."

"Thanks for keeping Life Savers, Inc in business, 'lissa." Cyn chuckled.

"I've got a condition though."

"Name it."

"Stop calling me ''lissa'"

"Only if you start calling me Cyn like everyone else."

"Deal."

***

It is a well known fact; the kind of fact told as an anecdote at boring dinner parties, or at the beginning of a long, inevitably irrelevant rant on a web log; that on July 4, 1776, King George III of England's journal entry read 'nothing happened today'. Most people take from this as a parable about hubris being the reason the king was blissfully unaware that his empire was crumbling around him.

But the fact was that the king had no way of knowing what was happening a world away. He couldn't simply switch on a news provider, state the name of a prominent politician (such as Jefferson, Thomas) and instantly know the man's public itinerary for the day as anyone could in 2074.

Fortunately for Brother Wright, he did live in the latter half of the twenty-first century and in addition to the ability to receive information at the speed of light, he employed a network of informants that were able to alert him to his own empire's swan song. In that respect, Brother had the advantage over King George.

Where King George excelled, however was the fact that his empire didn't directly depend on keeping the top crime lord and arms dealer in Mayfield, Vincent Liedecker happy. Nor did George the Third face serious consequences for failing to do so.

Brother had been awakened at four in the morning to learn from one of his informants at the _Scribe_ that Mary Northbrooke had convinced her editor to stop the presses. It was too late to stop the bleeding. Northbrooke had the story of the week and nothing Brother could say would convince her to kill it. She didn't need him anymore.

The _Scribe_ would be delivered to Liedecker's office by seven o'clock and the secret lord of the underworld would find the headline 'Live Savers, Inc Triumph Over Terrorists' instead of the public relations nightmare he had requested Brother arrange. The fact that the entire debacle had happened at his own event was just another nail in Brother's coffin. He had to be out of Mayfield before Liedecker got his paper.

Carrying only a briefcase stuffed with as much cash as he could fit into it from his safe and his laptop computer, containing his soon to be crippled database of contacts and so called 'very good friends', Brother hailed a cab.

He hadn't bothered calling Rick Charlotte. The young man would panic, try to rabbit and be gunned down in the street. Brother considered it a kindness to simply let him die in his sleep.

Settling into the cab, he looked once more up to the window of his penthouse apartment. Over a decade's worth of work in Mayfield was lost. Liedecker would find all of Brother's local contacts in Charlotte's files and make them his own by the end of the day.

Opening his laptop, Brother brought up his back-up plan – what he called his parachute. It was a list of contacts he had established but hadn't tapped in the greater metropolitan area. The laptop was the only place this list existed and it would be his means of rebuilding his empire.

Typing swiftly, he scanned over the list and found one that was promising. After the previous night's occurrences, his interests in this man's field of expertise was piqued. He opened an email window and began to compose his email to Simon Talbot, Director of the Psionics Training and Application Academy in Langley, VA.

***

Rick Charlotte stumbled into the intimidating study of Vincent Liedecker, propelled by the beefy hands of the large man who had come to pick him up that morning. His head still swam with sleep and his eyes hadn't even had time to adjust.

"Mornin', Rick." Liedecker said from his leather office chair. His tone was that of a lion welcoming a gazelle to dinner.

Rick was forcibly placed in the chair across from the crime lord by the aforementioned large man. Another man, in his mid-forties, stood off to the side, trying to avoid being noticed. Rick could practically smell the fear on the man and the power exuded by Liedecker. "Er... good morning, Mr. Liedecker, sir." Rick stammered.

"Not so good a mornin', boy." Liedecker said, pinning Rick with his gaze. "See, I thought I had an arrangement with your boss—Brother Wright. I supplied the muscle for all of his little fish scams, all of this 'influence trading' he goes on about... and in return he only had to carry out some very simple chores, Rick."

Rick shivered, trying to tear his eyes away from the arms dealer's.

"Yesterday, I gave him another one of these little chores, Rick. You know what that was?"

Rick swallowed. He didn't want to answer. He had the feeling that talking at the wrong volume would earn him a bullet in the brainpan. But not talking would probably lead to worse. "H-he said you wanted some reporter to give the prelates bad press."

Liedecker smiled, not a friendly smile, but a sadistic one. "That is EXACTLY what I told him to do, Rick. My, but you are a sharp one, you know that?"

"N-no sir, I di—" Rick began but was interrupted by an avalanche of anger from Liedecker.

"Then how come, I open the paper this morning and see that very same reporter's name above a FRONT PAGE story about how these prelates are the best thing since sliced bread and twice as useful!?"

The lump in Rick's throat dropped to his stomach. Why was he getting yelled at for this? He was just the techie. "Sir." He squeaked. "Mr. Wright is the one that usually meets with you and all..."

With that, Liedecker settled down. There was an uneasy silence in the room before he spoke. "You just asked the million dollar question, Rick. Seems that 'Brother' Wright got wind of that article and got out of Mayfield faster than a whipped dog. Left you to take the blame though. Wasn't that right nice of him?"

Rick froze. He'd trusted Brother. He'd believed in all of his talk about trading influence and now all he had to show for being his disciple was a messy death.

"I see you're not too happy about that, Rick." Liedecker said. "Either that, or you think I'm going to kill ya."

"You're not?" Rick squeaked before he could stop himself. "Uh, I mean, please don't!" He put his hands in front of his face to ward off a blow that never landed.

"Boy, if I had wanted you dead, you would've woke up dead." Liedecker said, no trace of humor in his voice.

"Then... why am I here, sir?" Rick asked, lowering his arms.

"Because I still think there's something to this whole 'trading influence' thing Wright was so wrapped up in, Rick" the crime lord said. "And you got both the experience and Wright's database." He picked up a knife from its stand on his desk and drew his thumb across the blade. "So, Rick—you want the job?"

"Of course, sir. You say the word and everything Brother had is yours."

Liedecker laughed, actual mirth in the sound this time. "It was always mine, Rick. Everything in this city's mine – it just doesn't know it yet." He replaced the knife on its stand. "First thing's first though, Rick. Do you believe in coincidences?"

"No sir."

"Good. Then I want you to look into one; I want to know how it is that these Prelates managed to save Lester Mendel AND hostages in his Convention Center within a month of each other without any calls to the local police being made."

***

Across the city, someone else was just opening their morning edition of the _Scribe_. Not far from the reader, a cork board held various newspaper clippings, all mentioning burglaries whose only link was a sprig of belladonna marked with lipstick left in place of the stolen valuables. A nearby pot contained a plant of the same species.

"Page A-12!" A woman's voice snarled as the tearing of newsprint could be heard. "I was promised front page! I've earned it! It's mine!" The ruined paper landed in the trashcan. Then the corkboard split in half, as if cut by an unseen blade.

End Issue #3

#

#

#

#

# Issue #4: Juniper

##

##

## Juniper (Part 1)

Two men in sunglasses and blue coveralls bearing the grinning sun logo of Brilliant Frozen Foods loitered in front of a storefront in Raleigh, North Carolina, looking for all the world like two blue collar workers on break. The taller of the two, a blonde with a crooked nose and a few days of beard growth on his chin, turned to his counterpart, a deeply tanned man in his late forties and spoke in conversational tones.

"Ground three to Overseer one. We're in position. Status on the target?"

"Ground three, this is Overseer one. Target tripped the theta scanners at four-eight-one and hasn't tripped another since. Ground one and two are tracking on remote. Eye in the sky is coming into range for visual support. Hold positions until location is confirmed."

"Copy Overseer one." The man designated Ground three said.

"I don't get it, Perkins;" Ground three's partner sighed. "Four people on the ground, two spotters and a satellite for one girl? If she's this bad, why didn't they call in an Enforcer?"

"You read the brief, Evans? Drivers ran a red light, got hit, and dumped her and her cell right in the middle of the street." Perkins shook his head. "This isn't something you wait on Enforcers to come in for."

Evans nodded slightly. "I still wish we had more than tranquilizers. What's her power supposed to be anyway?"

"Nothing on the report." Perkins frowned. At that moment, Overseer one's voice came over their glasses mounted communicators.

"Location confirmed. Proceed to four-nine-zero and engage at will."

From his roost on a roof, the spotter designated Overseer one sighted his quarry with his binoculars. Servos whirred as the lens focused on a girl of about sixteen with light brown, crimped hair. She was doing her best to stay hidden as she crept along an alley. Even after a full day on the run from her containment, she was still dressed in the hospital gown she had been wearing inside the stasis cell.

A transparent display registered basic vital signs in green. Her heart rate was up. So was her breathing rate. She knew the trap was closing and she was panicking.

"Its all right, little girl." He smirked. "In a few minutes, You're going back where you belong." Before he could say more, the world went black. "What the hell?!"

"I'm really glad you're such a prick;" A female voice said. "Because otherwise, I'd feel bad for this." A sharp jab to his solar plexus doubled him over, followed by a blow to the back of the neck that put him down.

Alexis released her command over the black heat and landed on the rooftop next to the spotter's prone form. She flipped open her cell phone. "Laurel's triangulation is right, Ian. Stop the men on the ground; I'll help the girl."

"Gotcha." Ian said quietly as he reached the top floor of the building he was in and stood at the door, waiting for the time to be right.

Below, the girl continued along, oblivious to the fact that she was no longer alone in her flight.

The last twenty-four hours were a blur to her. She had awakened in a partially shattered plastic coffin in the middle of an intersection. An overturned pick-up truck was to one side of her, spewing smoke. On her other side was an ice cream truck with a giant, smiling sun painted on the side. It had been smashed in on one side and its two rear doors thrown open.

Shaking memory away, she turned down another alley. She needed to get away. She didn't know quite why, but she knew that if the men who were after her caught her, she would never see the light of day again. Scars up her arms and a persistent ache at the nape of her neck told her vaguely of terrible things that had already been perpetrated on her.

"Down here." Someone said, trying to be covert, but failing to account for the echo in the alley. The girl looked up to see Evans and Perkins turn the corner at the other end of the alley. Heavy footsteps behind told her that doubling back was not an option.

"Got her!" Evans said, enthusiastically raising his weapon and firing. Red finned darts leapt from the pistol and through the space the girl had occupied before she dove for the cover of a dumpster.

Perkins slapped the muzzle of his partner's gun down. "Don't telegraph you're shots, Evans. Some of these people had reflexes beyond anything you're capable of. We've got enough trouble without you announcing us."

"Don't ride me on this." Evans said, creeping up on the dumpster. "It's just a kid."

The pair swung around the dumpster just as the other two ground units arrived. "Shit." Perkins said. Behind the dumpster, the concrete wall and the rebar within it had been shattered to powder; creating a hole in the building about two and a half feet in diameter. A thin rime of frost covered the area around the hole and in the heat of the warm July day, a few snowflakes melted in air.

"Yeah. Just a kid." Perkins snarled. "Griggs, Farmington, secure the front. We'll go in after her."

"She just smashed through two feet of concrete." Evans said. He watched the other two ground units go with a hint of fear in his eyes. "We need backup to handle her."

"Keep your damn head, Evans." Perkins said, moving closer to the hole. He slammed the butt of his pistol into the edge of the hole. It shattered like glass. "If she was capable – or willing – to kill us, she would have done it already." He peered into the hole he had widened and nodded to his partner. "Careful not to let your skin touch this shit. Its still probably hundreds of degrees below zero."

Evans gritted his teeth but followed.

The hole, as it turned out, provided access to the building's basement/boiler room after a five foot drop from near the ceiling. The only light was from the government mandated safety lighting along the edges of the ceiling and the dull red of the furnace along the back wall.

The room itself had become an auxiliary storage room over the years, receiving all the junk the landlord deemed too useless to keep, but too valuable to throw away. In any other circumstance, it would be a spacious room, but as it stood, the only clear space was the vicinity of the boiler and a pathway clear to reach the same from the stairs.

Perkins and Evans flicked hidden switches in their sunglasses and the room was suddenly awash with the green hues of night vision for them.

"Come on, kid." Perkins said. "Don't make this harder on yourself than it already is."

"What did you people do to me?!" a surprisingly defiant voice asked from behind a pile of chairs atop an old table.

"Not my place to ask questions." Perkins answered, giving Evans a hand signal to loop around.

"The plate on the cage you had me in had a medical chart on it. It was cracked, but I saw the words 'bio-mapping complete' on it. What does that mean?!" the girl demanded.

"Again, don't know, don't care, not my job. Maybe if we get you back, you can ask the people who know." Perkins said. All he needed to do was keep her talking so Evans could get a clean shot.

"No." the girl said forcefully. The temperature in the room plummeted. Snow began to fall from a frigid cloud that suddenly formed near the ceiling. "I'm never going back. You can't take me and neither can your partner." There was a cracking sound. A chest of drawers toppled over as its base became too brittle to support it. Perkins heard Evans shout as it landed on him, knocking him out.

"How did—"

"I can feel your body heat." The girl said sharply.

Above them, the door was forced open.

"Then I guess you can feel my reinforcements arriving." Perkins smiled. "And look – they're going to have a clean shot."

The girl looked up and burst from cover, tearing down the rows of junk searching for a new hiding place as the door opened fully. Perkins leveled his weapon and ripped off three shots.

The sudden snowfall was just as suddenly buffeted by a gale of wind that rushed into the intervening space between the darts and the psionic girl. The darts struck an invisible wall and hung there, slowly falling as if through water.

Mouth agape, Perkins looked up to the landing. There was a man there, hands outstretched toward the darts. But his attention was totally on the other figure on the stairs. The outline was feminine, but it was as if some divine hand had cut a female shape out of the universe and left the void to wander on its own volition. She was definitely a psionic and she was most certainly NOT an Enforcer.

"Where are..." He stammered dumbly into his com.

"Your reinforcements won't be arriving." The shade said.

Reflexively, Perkins raised his pistol, but he never fired. At that very moment, he saw the darts he had fired drifting toward him with supernatural quickness. What more was the 'bubble' of near solid air that traveled with them. He tried to dodge, to dive for cover or hide – but the bubble was upon him before his brain could pass the 'flee' message on to his body. Then it exploded and everything went dark.

"It's been a while since I've seen you do a 'blast bubble'. Alexis smiled at Ian.

"I figured this was a special occasion." Ian returned the smile. "Now let's make sure she's okay." He headed down the stairs and toward the place the young woman had disappeared. "Juniper?" he called. "Juniper Taylor?"

"Who are you?" a youthful voice demanded from behind a pile of boxes. "How do you know my name?"

"My name's Ian. This is Alexis. We're here to help you."

"Like those men were here to 'help' me?" the question had a decidedly acid tone.

"No." Alexis said, dropping her black heat and coming to Ian's side. "We aren't exactly sure what the Academy wants with you, but we're here to try and make sure they never get a chance to do this to you kids again."

"Kids? There are more like me?" Juniper slowly emerged from her hiding place. The snow stopped falling.

Ian nodded. "You'd be around the ninth we've met." He gave her a reassuring grin. "We live with four of them."

"And what happened to the other four?" Juniper suddenly withdrew.

"They decided they didn't want to come back with us." Ian said. "We just want to help you; not control you. If you want, we can just get you out of Raleigh, fix you up with some money and contacts and you'll never have to bother with us again."

The brunette pursed her lips. "And the other option?"

"You can come with us." Alexis said. "You'll have your own room, some spending money and friends – you'll just have to live by a few rules of the household."

The girl's green eyes glittered. "What are these rules?"

"Just to trust that we're doing what we think Is best to protect you; warn us when company's coming and not use your powers in public."

"At the Academy, they taught us not to be ashamed of our powers..." Juniper started.

"It's not a matter of shame, Juniper." Alexis's voice was sympathetic. "It's about not letting the Academy know where we are. No one checks for names in the days of National Identification, but reports of someone matching your description using your powers would get back to them really quickly. Do you understand?"

Juniper nodded slowly. "I'm still not sure I can trust you though."

Ian smirked. "You're sixteen, right? Know how to drive?" Juniper nodded. "Then how about this – you drive us back home."

"Ian..." Alexis gave him one of her newly patented looks that questioned his sanity.

"Its fine, Alexis. She knows she can trust us because we're trusting her." He produced the keys and tossed them to Juniper who goggled at them in disbelief. "You're in complete control of the situation now, Juniper. In the driver's seat to be literal."

"Are you serious?" Juniper asked.

"Completely." Ian assured her. "So, have any more questions before we head up?"

"Just one. How did you find me so quickly?"

"Online news is a blessing sometimes." Alexis said. "Our friend has a computer dedicated to combing news sites for things the Academy is up to, psionic related news, and most importantly in this case; any news involving anything resembling a stasis cell. The other kids were also kept in them, so we just figured..."

"A stasis cell." Juniper said thoughtfully. "My aunt was in one for a while after a car accident. How long was I out? Two... three days?"

"It may be far longer than that." Ian said gravely. "From your point of view, what year is it?"

Juniper rolled her eyes and scoffed. "It's 2073 – November."

"It's a little hot to be November, isn't it?" Ian asked. He felt a pang of sympathy for what the girl would soon be going through.

"Yeah..." Juniper started. "So how long have I really been out?"

"It's July of '74 now." Ian said with as gentle a tone as possible. "You've been 'out' for eight to nine months and we have no idea what they've done in that time."

"But it's over now." Alexis said quickly. Thoughts of Melissa's near decade sealed away still haunted her. "We promise."

***

"I don't see why you're being so secretive about this new guy." Cyn said to Laurel as the two of them plus Warrick lounged on the couches in the living room.

"I just think that it's fairer to them that they get to make their own first impression." Laurel said with her usual cheer. "Besides, it's not like you have to wait for weeks to meet them. Alexis said they'd be here in a few hours and that was... well a few hours ago."

"Hey, I'm all for the new guy." Warrick said. "A wingman to scam on girls who know about my powers is infinitely valuable." Cyn smacked him in the face with a pillow for that.

"You couldn't even scam on chicks if that was you power." The white haired girl said. "Seriously, you're just going to end up playing videogames and watching baseball with this guy the same as you do with me every night we don't hang out at the Dungeon."

Warrick grinned at her. "Hey, I could be a lady's man. I've had tons of girlfriends."

"Didn't you tell me your nickname used to be 'three and out' because that's the maximum number of dates you've every managed to get from any one girl?" Cyn accused.

He stammered. "Oh, that's low, Cyn. Anyway, that's why I need the new guy's help, see? JC's in the same boat as me. And Zack... well he's Zack. I need someone to show me how to get a girl and keep her."

There was a knock at the door and Laurel stood to get it, shaking her head at the youngsters' antics.

Cyn scoffed. "You seriously watch too much TV, you know that?"

Laurel opened the door to see Ian, whose hands were full of bags. He made a face at what he heard. "The bosom buddies having a fight?" he asked, stepping in and putting the bags on the floor. "Where's everyone else?"

"I'm here, Ian." Melissa said hurrying down the stairs. "I was just reading in my room while we waited for you to get back."

There was a static sound from near the television and Kareem's voice emerged. "I am here as well, Ian."

The older man smiled at his young charges. "Great to see our whole little family all in one place. There's someone here I'd like you all the meet." He motioned to the door and Juniper entered, dressed in black jeans, white blouse and a jean vest. "Say hi to Juniper, the newest resident of Freeland House."

Juniper smiled as she looked around at those in the room. Then her eyes went wide with surprise. "I... I think I know you. American Classics class, right? Mrs. Feldman was the teacher? You're the one who tried to convince her that twentieth century comic books were legitimate literature. I don't remember your name, but it's good to see a familiar face."

All eyes followed Juniper's gaze to Warrick who was suddenly very confused.

##

##

## Juniper (Part 2)

There was a confused silence in the living room of Freeland House that seemed to radiate off Warrick as he met the green gaze of Freeland House's newest resident. He'd been at Freeland House for almost three months and had given up the possibility of seeing anyone he knew in the near future.

Then again, saying he 'knew' Juniper Taylor was stretching the definition of the word 'know' to it barest limits. They'd had all of one class together at the Academy; American Classics with the overly traditional and elitist Mrs. Feldman. Over the course of that class, Warrick didn't recall having any more direct contact with Juniper than an occasional nod 'hello'. The only noteworthy thing he remembered concerning her was that she had seemingly dropped the class near the end of the term. Of course, now he knew the truth behind her disappearance.

Still, he felt a bit cheated; the first person he'd run into from his life before Freeland House wasn't a family member or a friend, but a girl he'd barely been aware of.

"It's not that surprising." Alexis stated as she entered the living room. "She's been in stasis only a month longer than Warrick has and the Academy isn't as huge a place as you'd think. I frankly would have been surprised if they hadn't met one another."

"I wouldn't say 'met'..." Warrick started. Until now, the tentacles had been wrapped tightly around his arms as if asleep. Now they unfurled themselves and extended, intent on examining the newcomer.

Juniper raised a wary hand toward the tentacles. "That's your power?"

"Part of it." Warrick said, painfully aware that he was the center of attention.

"You were in his class at the Academy and didn't know his power?" Cyn piped up. "Yeah, you didn't so much know each other as much as you just happened to exist in the same general area for a little bit, huh?"

Juniper shrugged shyly. "I didn't say we were friends. I just recognized him."

"I'm sure you'll all get to know each other very well while you're staying here." Laurel said, putting on her most diplomatic airs. "Why don't we at least introduce ourselves?" She gave Juniper a little nod. "I'm Laurel Brant; I'm the one who found the article about the accident that led us to you." She glanced at Melissa and Cyn in a manner that demanded they follow suit.

"I'm Melissa." The redhead said. "Forrester."

"She doesn't talk much." Cyn said. "You're lucky you got 'I'm', really."

"I'm not that bad, Cyn." Melissa chewed her lip. "I'm just not good with meeting new people..."

"That's okay. I can do all the talking for all of us." Cyn said, taking control of the situation. "I'm Cynthia McAllister, resident shapeshifter." She extended her arm six feet to offer it to Juniper to shake. "Pleased to meet ya."

Juniper chuckled and shook the hyper extended appendage.

"You already know Kaine, so we can skip him." Cyn continued, reeling her hand back in. "Floating invisibly somewhere over there" she waved her hand in a vague direction, "Is Kareem. He's a ghost or an astral thingy or something."

"Astral projection, Cyn." Kareem corrected affably via the speakers near the TV. "My body is currently in a coma, Juniper. I can only communicate with my telepathic ability or this device Ms. Brant was so kind as to develop for me."

"We should be video capable in a few weeks." Laurel added. "Give or take, of course – I've never tried working on an interface on another plane of existence before."

Alexis released a long breath and looked at the assembled residents. "Great. While Ian and I get a room ready, why don't you all show Juniper around the grounds?"

"I'm going to have to lay cable into that room." Laurel noted. "Maybe you all should show her around Mayfield too."

"Sounds like a plan." Cyn shrugged. "Let me go get dressed." Before she left, she grabbed Melissa by the wrist. "You're coming too. This'll be good for you."

Laurel watched the other two girls leave with a smile. "Juniper, you should probably come with me. I've got some new ID's and a phone for you, among other things."

***

"Come on in." Laurel said, switching on the lights to her lab. "Don't mind the mess." She weaved her way past piles of what seemed to be junk that had taken up residence on the work tables. Juniper followed cautiously.

The older woman took some keys off her desk and knelt to open a safe beneath it. "I just want to tell you that you made a good decision to come here instead of trying to make it on your own."

"Alexis told me that there were others that decided not to come." Juniper said, sliding into one of Laurel's computer chairs.

"They call themselves the Kin." Laurel said as she rummaged through the safe. "We keep in touch from time to time. I send them cash and find them safe places to stay while they move around."

"Why didn't they come here?"

"They didn't think it was safe to trust anyone – even us." Laurel frowned.

"Did they have reason not to trust you?" Juniper asked.

Laurel came up from the safe holding a plastic wrapped bundle. "It was more that they didn't have any reason to trust anyone." She sighed and sat in a chair across from Juniper. "Look, Juniper, I can't make you trust us. All I can do is ask you to and give you every reason to." She slid the bundle across the desk to the younger woman.

Juniper took the bundle but didn't open it. Instead she turned her gaze to the racks of servers Laurel was running. "That's how you found me?"

"My internet spiders turned up the article about your stasis cell in Raleigh." Laurel nodded. "I try to keep tabs on everything going on with them. It's a hard task, but it keeps me at least up to date on the world in general."

"Could you use them to find everyone's families?" Juniper queried, keeping her eyes on the computers instead of Laurel.

Laurel pursed her lips. She knew this question was coming and she was worried about the reaction to the answer. "I can, Juniper. And I have. But there are more problems with reuniting you kids with your families than just finding them."

"Like what?" The question was loaded and accusatory.

"For example... none of the kids' parents have filed a missing person's report."

"What does that matter?" Juniper sat up in her seat. "Just because their parents don't want them—"

"That isn't it, Juniper." Laurel said, holding up a hand to silence the girl. Taking a calming breath, she tried to make her face as reassuring as possible, despite the news she was delivering making her want to cry. "There haven't been any missing person's reports because none of the families know they're missing."

Juniper's confused expression spurred Laurel on.

"The Academy has been fabricating communications – letters, emails, sometimes even phone calls from those missing. They always make up some excuse and stonewall any family that try to visit. I don't even know how they're doing it because if they're doing this for every person they've put in stasis for at least the last ten years, they're sending hundreds of communications each day; personalized for each family."

"That's insane." Juniper shook her head. "We're not the only ones? I mean the eight or nine Alexis and Ian were talking about?"

Laurel swallowed to get rid of her rising bile. She'd had this conversation with the others before and it didn't hurt her any less to explain it again. "Juniper, there are hundreds – maybe thousands stashed away all over the country. We're doing our best to find them... but the Academy has a longer reach and deeper pockets than even my hacking can keep up with."

The brunette was in tears now, shaking almost uncontrollably. Laurel steeled herself against the next, inevitable question. "W-why?" Juniper forced out.

"We're not sure." Laurel wheeled her chair over so she could hug the shaking youngster. "But it was bad. They're working for a group called Project Tome – studying psionics and performing horrible procedures on them."

"B-bio-mapping." The word started as a stutter and ended as an angry hiss.

"How did you know that word?" Laurel asked, stroking the crying girl's hair.

"That cage. The stasis thing. There was a chart on it, like one you'd see in a hospital? I couldn't read most of it, but part of it said 'bio-mapping complete'."

"Oh my god..." Laurel murmured, hugging the girl even tighter. "I'm so sorry, Juniper. I wish we could have stopped it but—"

"I don't remember anything." Juniper said quietly. "Don't be sorry. You're doing everything you can for me." She hugged the older woman tightly before releasing her. "I can tell that now." She wiped her eyes with her sleeve.

"You bounced back a whole lot faster than I would have." Laurel said, sitting back in her chair.

"Not yet." Juniper said. "But I'm just really glad I'm here now." Her hands found the bundle. A welcome distraction from what she had just learned. "So what is this?"

Laurel wiped away her own tears, which she had just realized had formed. "I call it a care package. Cell phone, hacked ID cards, and a new bank account to draw funds from. At the very least, we can make you comfortable while we figure out how to get you back with your family where you belong." Realizing she was drifting back to an emotional minefield, Laurel forced a smile. "There's also a disk in there that'll set your computer up on the house LAN – You play Death Gate?"

Taking Laurel's cue, she smiled back. "Level fifty-four Spawn-hunter on the Orion server."

"Warrick and Cyn are going to love having you around." Laurel smiled broadly. "So will Melissa, since you'll buy her some peace and quiet."

***

"So, how long before the new girl replaces me as your pet project?" Melissa frowned into the mirror as Cyn stood behind her, attacking her hair with a styling bar.

"Oh, don't worry, Melissa, I've got time enough for two pet projects." Cyn cooed, curling a strand of Melissa's hair with the electrostatic bar. "Besides, she actually talks and stuff, so she won't take nearly as much work as you." She teased.

"Oh joy." Melissa rolled her eyes. "So, what do you think of her?"

"Eh, she's okay." Cyn shrugged. "But how much can you learn about someone in a two minute conversation?" She gave Melissa's hair a few more passes with the bar. "You know, except her thing with Warrick."

"What?" Melissa asked.

"You heard her. 'Oh, it's sooo nice to see a familiar face.'" She mocked. "Seriously, I think she had a crush on him back when they were at the Academy."

"You do realize that she didn't say that even remotely like the way you just did, right?" Melissa asked, flinching away as Cyn's strokes with the bar became more erratic.

"I can tell it in her voice." Cyn said. "She's going to be all over him inside a week."

"Why do you even care?" Melissa said, finally moving away from Cyn. "Didn't you say that he wasn't even your idea of a 'guy'?"

Cyn put the bar down rather harder than she strictly intended. "I'm just worried about my friend is all. I mean this new chick is going to be all over him and he's dumb and weak and she'll have him wrapped around her little finger in no time. Then who's going to play Death Gate with me and Laurel, or help me and Kay formulate obnoxiously long, yet entirely possible coffee orders at the Dungeon?"

Melissa shook her head and smoothed down her now electrically fried hair down. "He's not going to ignore you if he gets a girlfriend, Cyn." She said sympathetically. When Cyn didn't return that with a smart-alecky quip, she sighed. "Fine. So what do you propose we do to keep Cupid from hitting the unsuspecting Mr. Kaine?"

"I'm not sure." Cyn said. "But I'm certain something will come to me while we're showing the new girl around the city."

##

##

## Juniper (Part 3)

"So this is Mayfield." Juniper said, looking around. The taxi the quartet had called had dropped them off at Westinghall Plaza, just across from the giant ornamental fountain. "I've heard a lot about this place – never thought I'd get to see it though. I figured that I'd get shipped right back to San Jose as soon as I got done..." She looked around at the people who passed by all around. "Uh... you know."

She wore a dark green sundress that was weighted at the bottom by a number of thick, metal rings. Vaguely, she remembered having one like it in blue, but a lot her memory of the period surrounding her disappearance was spotty at best.

"Yeah, keeping in mind not to talk about it- that's the hardest part." Warrick said, trying to be helpful. "Well, not... you know, using what we can..." He just nodded to indicate 'using their powers'. "That's the real hardest part, but it gets easier." He finished with a hollow lie.

"Thanks." Juniper said, smiling at him. It really did help to have someone she at least recognized around.

"So..." Cyn said, stepping in between the two so fast that Warrick could have sworn she'd 'shifted into that position. "Where do you want to start the tour?" She gestured up to the mammoth building at the end of the plaza. "We're already at the Westinghall Building. The Gates Center is only a few blocks down..." Her gaze went a bit unfocused in thought. "There's the zoo, Dayspring College, and the National Museum of Sciences. We could hit the Lexington Gallery too."

"The, uh, Westmoreland is holding a craft fair." Melissa offered shyly.

Cyn snapped her attention to the redhead. She was about to say something smarmy about the fact that Melissa was finally contributing, but realized that she was helping her out. "That's a great idea! How's that sound, Juniper? It's got to be better than all that touristy crap I was talking about."

The new girl smiled. Cyn didn't like that smile. It was the kind of smile that wasn't hiding anything. It was pure and honest and at the moment, Cyn was looking for sinister and scheming. Liking the other girl was not on the menu.

"That sounds perfect." Juniper continued smiling. "So, you're into crafts, Melissa?"

"A little." The shy girl admitted. "I did pottery when I was little and I still like looking at it."

"No kidding?" Warrick said. "We've been here months and I'd never have taken you for an artsy person."

"Probably because it takes one to know one." Cyn teased playfully.

"Hey now, I'll have you know I'm real artsy." Warrick placed and hand over his chest as if to indicate his passion for the arts. It came off as melodramatic.

"Warrick, you're more in the 'demand' category for art than the 'supply' line." Cyn said. "Then again, comic makers and TV producers owe their wallets to you, I guess."

"Just because I haven't had time to do any of that stuff since we came here doesn't mean I didn't – or that I won't." Warrick pointed out with a wounded voice.

"So what is it you do?" Juniper asked, jumping into the conversation before Cyn could think of another smart remark. It took a considerable amount of facial control on Cyn's part not to glare daggers at the intruder. Some primitive, sadistic part of her mind giggled over the fact that as a shapeshifter, she quite possible _could_ glare daggers at the other girl.

"I do all sorts of things." Warrick said, responding to Juniper, but looking pointedly at Cyn. "I drew a lot, even at the—at school." He caught himself before he mentioned the Academy. There wasn't anyone around to hear him, but he decided that things would be easier on Juniper if they didn't tempt her to mention it. "I painted some too. I like to think I was pretty good at it." He shrugged and started walking toward the bus stop. The Westmoreland wasn't what any sane person would classify as 'within walking distance'. "And I did some acting even."

Cyn blinked. "You? An actor?"

"Sure, it's in my blood, Cyn. My dad's a voice actor only on the account of him not being good looking enough for movies." He turned to walk backward and shot all three girls a wolfish grin. "Me though, I got all my pretty from my mom's side."

"What have you acted in then?" Cyn had the next question ready. She asked partly because she wanted to know and partly to steer the discussion away from families.

"Only a couple things." Warrick admitted, sitting down at the bus stop. "I was Mercutio in _Romeo and Juliet_ ; the Cheshire Cat in _Alice in Wonderland_ , and my favorite – Master Sanzo in _Journey to the West_." Sprawling on the seat, he gave another shrug. "They weren't leads or anything, but I really liked doing them."

"Mayfield has to have some theater groups or something." Juniper offered, sitting down beside him. "You should find one and try out."

For the second time in so many minutes, Cyn blinked. "Uh, yeah." She nodded in agreement as she leaned on the clear plastic overhang that theoretically (in the same sense that the Flat-Earth Theory is a theory) protected the bench from rain. Helpless, she looked over Warrick and Juniper's heads to Melissa for help.

The redhead bit her lip, and then sat down next to Juniper. "So, Juniper... do you do any crafts?" She was totally out of her element attempting to guide a social situation and that was all she could muster.

Juniper gave a thoughtful look. She remembered being in an art class at the Academy, but the instructor had made her focus on freezing water vapor in the air into structures and patterns. It wasn't the kind of art Juniper liked doing and it made her powers feel cheap.

"I do a little origami." She finally said, "And those little animals you can make from pipe cleaners." Her smile was a little weaker now because for whatever reason, she was embarrassed about being what she suspected was the least artistic person in the group. "Anything you can get out of a kit basically." Turning it into a weak joke didn't help much, so she decided to shift focus to someone else. "How about you, Cynthia?"

Cyn avoided Juniper's gaze. "Nothing." She muttered.

Warrick gave her a disbelieving look. "Really? I thought by the way you laid into me about it, you were into all sorts of stuff." He looked off into the distance as if visualizing his memory. "Huh. Guess that explains why that sort of thing never came up."

"It just wasn't on the menu for me as a kid, okay?" Cyn snapped defensively. On the one hand, she had succeeded in deflecting attention from Juniper. On the other, she didn't like where this was going. Luckily, her fervent prayers for interruption were answered by a twenty-five ton angel with the words 'CITY OF MAYFIELD TRANSIT' stenciled on its side. "Oh look, the bus is here." She said, the relief in her voice sounding anything but casual.

***

The Westmoreland Hotel was an impressive thirty story structure in downtown Mayfield. Its convex façade wrapped elegantly around an ornate white marble dome that protected the entry way from the elements. A less than characteristic marquee placed above the dome scrolled the text 'THE WESTMORELAND WELCOMES THE TENTH ANNUAL MAYFIELD CRAFTS EXPO JULY 17-20' in black text on a white background.

"They made sure we knew this was the place." Juniper said, walking a bit ahead of the rest of the group toward the welcoming dome.

"So what should we look at first?" Melissa asked; her head buried in a brochure for the Expo she had printed at the tourism board kiosk on the bus. "I'd really like to see the glassblowing workshop they have set up."

"I'm more interested in the art restoration thing you mentioned." Juniper admitted, dropping back to walk with the redhead. "new stuff doesn't really interest me as much as the really old stuff."

Cyn imposed herself between Warrick and the other two girls. "Let me guess..." she said to him. "blacksmithing demonstration?"

"It crossed my mind." He nodded as the quartet entered the main lobby of the hotel. Steel scaffolds were arrayed throughout, supporting digital signs directing guests to the various exhibits, panels and demonstrations. "I mean why not learn how to do it the right way? It may help me get better at it." He gave her a grin.

Cyn smiled back at him, and then noticed one of the digital signs. "Glassblowing demo starts in ten minutes, Melissa. How about you take Juniper to see?"

"You're not coming with us?" Juniper asked, with a little shrug that indicated that she didn't especially mind one way or the other.

"I figure the two of us can scout out the rest of this place." Cyn returned the shrug. "Never hurts to have a game plan."

"I don't know, glassblowing sounds pretty cool." Warrick said. "You can't go wrong with melting down stuff that was never meant to melt." He glanced over to Cyn. "Besides, when do we ever have a game plan?"

"We usually aren't trying to show a new person around." Cyn defended her position.

"If you think it's important, you can scout yourself." Juniper offered. "The glassblowing demonstration is only a half hour long, after all.

Cyn felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. This just wasn't fair. Somehow, the new girl had turned the tables on her and now she was left wandering around alone. "Fine." She snapped and stalked off through the crowd.

Juniper blinked. Hadn't scouting around been Cyn's idea? "Why's she suddenly so mad?"

Warrick gave a nervous chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck. "No idea. Sometimes, Cyn gets like this." He peered through the crowd. She was already lost within. "Look, you two go ahead, I'll go after her and see what's wrong."

"Alright." Juniper said. "I hope it's not something I did." This caused Melissa to make a face, which she hid behind the brochure.

"I'm sure it's not." Warrick assured her. "Back in a bit. We'll meet you two at the glassblowing... thing." He rushed off into the crowd.

Juniper heaved a long sigh. "And then there were two." She said to Melissa. "Come on. After this, we should check out the artist's alley. I need something to hang up in my room."

***

The Westmoreland's White Room was given over to the Expo's silent auction room. The evening auction featured art pieces donated by a local philanthropist, Vincent Liedecker. The proceeds were supposedly going to the Windsong Project, a scientific endeavor to revive extinct species such as the black rhinoceros and the Tasmanian wolf through cloning technology.

Cyn didn't really care what animals were brought back to life. The room was away from the bustle of the main rooms and it was quiet. She found a bench in a corner that was obscured from view by the various displays and sat down to think.

She didn't know how long she had been sitting there when she heard the voices. All she knew was that the minimal foot traffic was all but non-existent at the moment. But two people now stood on the other side of a display of 20th century modern paintings, speaking in hushed tones.

"Quickly now – we don't have much time before someone else comes in here." A female voice said. "Let's make sure you have the plan straight."

"It isn't exactly a complicated plan, Nightshade." A deep, male voice said. "I start some chaos, you nab the painting, and I get sprung from jail six hours later with a new identity. Everyone wins." There was a pause that Cyn could only interpret as the pair nodding to one another. "The only thing I don't get is why just the one painting? There's about four million worth in here easy. That thing ain't even worth much."

"I don't ask questions, I just do the job. My boss says to get _Portrait of Morganna le Fay_ by Unknown; that's exactly what he gets." The woman called Nightshade responded.

There was another pause. "Fine. I know I'm getting a new ID from this. What're you getting?"

"What does it matter?"

"Because I don't like working with people whose motivations I don't know. It makes me nervous."

"I'm not getting paid at all." Nightshade replied. "I'm just in this for the daring daylight art theft. Something like this will definitely reach the papers."

"Oh. You're on of those." The man said dryly.

"Don't give me your attitude, Cinder. Just get your part of the job done." Nightshade's steps began to move away from the display, followed by Cinder's.

Cyn blinked in confusion. Had she just heard what she though she did? Her mind raced at the kind of 'chaos' someone calling themselves Cinder would decide to cause. Someone had to do something. No, she corrected herself – Lifesavers, Inc had to do something before anyone got hurt.

Her fledgling rivalry with Juniper forgotten, she stood up and stretched a bit, awakening her shapeshifting ability. There was no time to find Warrick. She would just have to assume that seeing Facsimile in action would tell him all he needed to know.

Stretching her new, golden wings, she prepared to fly out of the White Room, only to be stopped by a sudden realization; she didn't know what either Cinder or Nightshade looked like.

***

Finding a specific person in the crowded hotel was harder than finding the proverbial needle in a haystack. In fact, it was on par with finding a specific needle in a stack of needles; provided the needles were constantly shifting.

Warrick shook his head and leaned on one of the scaffolds holding up the digital signs. It occurred to him that Cyn may even have left the hotel altogether. He just wished he knew why she was so upset. Frowning, he pressed his fingers to his temples. Today had promised to be fun too. They had a new friend to show around, there were all sorts of cool things to do at the expo... then Cyn had just gone spare and walked off in a huff.

Part of him wanted to say 'screw it' and go find the blacksmith exhibit. Most of him, however, took his role as Cyn's best friend very seriously and wouldn't let him rest until he found her and at least offered comfort – however well that would be received or not.

There was the possibility that she would still answer her phone; the logical part of his mind pointed out. That would make things move a lot faster. He headed for one of the more out of the way rooms to try and get a signal.

From somewhere at the other end of the wide hall, there came a sound that overcame even the loud din of convention goers. On a smaller scale, it would have sounded like the noise a gas pilot light makes when ignited. Only this was much larger.

Warrick looked up to see a ball of fire bloom over the heads of the milling crowd. It boiled and undulated in a most unnatural way, sending twisting tendrils down among the crowd that only just missed them.

Beneath and just behind the living cloud of flame stood a large man dressed in a camouflage jacket and pants. He grinned with sadistic glee as the crowd broke and fled. "Run, run, run!" He taunted. "Or we're going to have some barbeque!" He drew the last word out far longer than was tasteful.

Cursing, Warrick tried to move out of the way of the wave of humanity that surged toward him, only to be slammed against a door, which broke, dumping him unceremoniously into a darkened room.

Catching his breath, Warrick glanced around him. A number of portable forges had been set up here, along with a number of other tools of the trade, including raw bars of iron, waiting to be hammered into shape.

"Right." Warrick noted with a mental roll of his eyes. With a thought, he called the iron to him and formed his armor.

##

##

## Juniper (Part 4)

Energy manipulation was one of the more common psionic abilities. Some only manipulate existing sources, such as the flame of a candle or the sun's light. Others convert one form of energy, such as kinetic energy, into another form, such as heat. It was uncommon, but not particularly rare for a psionic to be able to shape and sculpt their energy once it was released.

It was funny how little factoids pop into one's head when one is faced with a rolling cloud of flame, Warrick thought as the tentacles lifted his now armor encased body above the fleeing convention goers.

As he watched, a whirling funnel extended from the cloud to connect with a table, which shattered as if under tons of force and was drawn into the fiery maelstrom. Behind it, Cinder continued to laugh and taunt the fleeing bystanders, oblivious to Warrick's presence.

Allowing the tentacles to swing him closer, Warrick called the flame wielder out. "I don't know why you're doing this, but it's going to stop right now, pal." He reached out with his metal sense and seized the copper wiring in the nearby walls.

Cinder laughed. "I didn't think I rated Mayfield's homegrown heroes." The flame-cloud coiled menacingly. "Look here, tin can; your armor may make you bulletproof, but against me, it's just your own personal pressure cooker." A finger of flame leapt out of the cloud toward Warrick.

There was a rending sound as copper wires exploded from the wall. The lights when out, leaving the large windows along the hall as the only light source. Liquid copper solidified into a wall between Warrick and the oncoming flame. A wash of uncomfortable heat was all that reached the young hero.

Parting the wall, Warrick sneered under his armor's visor. "You're going to have to do a hell of a lot better than that to put me down, Smokey."

"You can't do that forever. And without the golden girl, you're outnumbered by me and my cloud." Cinder had time to notice a light breeze behind him before Cyn dropped from above, planting her now pointed toes into the backs of his knees. With an oath, he crashed to the ground.

Cyn didn't have time to recover before he rolled onto his back and reared back onto his shoulders, delivering a kick to her chest that launched her into a display of figurines. Shards of broken ceramics flew everywhere.

"Hey, even with her, you're not doing so well." Cinder laughed, regaining his feet. The flame cloud dropped down to envelope him, bathing him in sinister orange light. "It's been fun, but I still have a job to do. So it's time to put you Prelates out of commission." He launched another line of flame toward Warrick.

***

"What's going on?!" Melissa asked, huddling with Juniper under a table as a herd of humanity thundered past.

"I have no idea." Juniper said. "But they're going to trample us to death if we stay here much longer."

Melissa tried to catch her breath. Juniper was right; the panicked crowd had already knocked over most of the tables nearby and she could see some people already on the ground, stamped to unconsciousness by the fruits of other people's fight or flight responses being violently thrown toward 'flight'. "I... I can stop them." She finally said. "But you need to go find Warrick and Cyn. If anyone can stop whatever caused this, they can."

"Aren't they going to be running with everyone else?" Juniper asked, the question of how Melissa intended to stop the fearful mob completely eluding her.

"Not if they know what's going on." Melissa admitted. She felt bad telling someone else about the secret of Lifesavers, Inc, but she was more concerned with so many people getting hurt. "Juniper, they've been using their powers to help people... in secret." She stressed the last word.

"They're prelates?" Juniper blinked. "But how? I thought we weren't..."

"Ian, Laurel and Alexis don't know." Melissa said quickly. "Cyn said they'd stop them if they found out." She looked into the other girl's eyes and pled for her to help her.

"Alright, Melissa. I'll find them." She looked out at the crowd. "If I can survive that."

"Go. I'll take care of it." Melissa said, already tapping into her power. Juniper noticed an edge of white suddenly circle the redhead's pupils. Without another word, she ducked out from under the table. The crowd was already slowing, moving around the fallen instead of over them. Melissa could calm them, elevate their mood, but they still knew to move away from danger.

Weaving her way through the sea of people, Juniper thought about Warrick and Cyn. Most psionics were free to use their powers as they saw fit (within the law), but the Freeland House residents couldn't for fear of discovery by the Academy. Never before did prelates have a better reason to conceal their identities behind costumes and codenames.

A booth caught her eye. It was overturned, but much of the merchandise was still intact. And idea formed in her head. If Warrick and Cyn could do it, so could she.

***

Another gout of flame broke against the hastily erected copper shield. The carpeted floor had burned away to the cement beneath some time ago. The heat that radiated off the copper was becoming unbearable. Warrick was having trouble breathing. Beside him, Cyn shifted her skin to form fireproof, red scales, but even she was having trouble in the heat.

"Just so you know..." Cinder shouted matter-of-factly over the roar of the firestorm, "I'm not going to kill you. I'm just going to bake you until you pass out from heat stroke. I'm sure big, strong prelates like you will be fine after a couple days."

"I really hate this guy." Warrick hissed, pulling more bits of metal in to reinforce the shield. "I can't even see where he is to send the boys after him."

"You know, he can't hit both of us at once if we come from different directions..." Cyn considered. "I'm about as fire resistant as I can get and the shield should protect you for a little while... We could rush him."

"I was thinking the same thing." Warrick nodded.

"I think that you two are just a little too comfortable behind that thing." Cinder called. "Let's see if I can turn up the heat."

Warrick felt the heat moving through the copper. It was the worst possible shield against heat and the next blast would likely transfer enough heat to knock them both out. "Go, now." Warrick said, pressing both hands against the shield in hopes of strengthening it with his powers.

The copper shield was red hot, even through his armor as Warrick forced his will into the metal. In his metal sense, he felt every molecule and desperately reached out to steady them against the assault. There was resistance – the heat energy pushing back against his attempts. His metal sense strained, as did his powers.

Then something broke.

White sparks raced over the surface of the copper. Where they danced, the shield shrank and turned black. The burst of flame impacted the shield and – Warrick felt only the smallest traces of heat radiate through. The force of the attack chipped away a few flecks of the black tarnish, revealing smooth white tinged with metallic pink beneath.

Surprised that he had staved off the attack, Warrick breathed a sigh of relief. Then his metal sense detected something unfamiliar. "What the hell did I just do?" He asked himself.

Meanwhile, Cyn beat her wings furiously, keeping just ahead of the whirling vortex of flame Cinder sent after her. The madman actually laughed as he scorched a line across the walls she passed. "One down, one to go, lady. I can keep this up all day! But how long can you keep running?"

"She doesn't have to." The air became noticeably more chill, a thin mist rising up along the scorched floor. The fire cloud suddenly flickered out, its fuel of burning tables and other combustibles encased in a thick frost.

"What the hell?" Cinder swore. Even as he formed a new flame in his hands, he found the source of the voice.

She stood proudly on the far side of the hall, a white cloak with green trim wrapped tightly around her, with its hood over her head. She also wore a ceramic half mask that covered the top portion of her face above the nose.

"The paper only said there were two of your people." Cinder said, causing his flame to wrap protectively around him as he glared at Cyn, who had turned to see who it was that had stopped the assault. "Who are you supposed to be?"

The newcomer smiled a predatory smile. "Call me Zero."

"Well, Zero." Cinder mocked her. "I'm Cinder. And I'm going to melt you." The flame whipped toward the woman in white with deadly intent.

A disc of some pinkish material whipped out ahead of her, borne forward by one of Warrick's tentacles. The flames scattered before the shield. "What was that about one down?" Warrick asked.

"Son of a bitch." Cinder growled. "I was pretty damn stupid going easy on you. I'm not a killer... but now..." An aura of flames exploded around him. "I'm going to make an exception!" Before he could manage anything however, he was engulfed in a cloud of white gas and his fire winked out.

"You know..." Cyn say, winging over to him, a fire extinguisher in her hands. "I'm just stupid sometimes. This was the most obvious thing ever and it slipped my mind until just now."

"That only bought you a second." Cinder snarled, starting to summon more fire.

"Oh... putting out the fire wasn't the obvious thing." She said, "This is." With that, she swung the safety device underhanded, catching the pyrokinetic in the chin. As he reared back, she expanded her hand to enormous proportions and punched him in the chest, sending him flying into the wall. He bounced once, and then lay still, knocked out.

"Looks like Lifesavers, Inc triumph's again." Cyn declared, tossing the extinguisher aside. "Let's get out of here, Alloy; all that shifting has me starving." She headed toward Warrick, and then turned to the newcomer. "Oh – thanks, by the way... Zero, right? I didn't know there were other prelates around here. Anyway, I owe you one."

"There weren't until about ten minutes ago." Zero said. "I almost had the shortest prelate career ever too. Thanks for protecting me, Warrick."

"Uh..." Warrick started. "I'm pretty sure I have no idea who this Warrick guy is." The tentacles tried their best to look nonchalant.

"Oh. Sorry." Zero said. "Alloy. Right."

"Oh. My. God." Cyn said. If she wasn't in her Facsimile guise, she would have flushed. "You're—"

"Yup. I bet it'd be easier to tell if you'd known what my powers were." Juniper shrugged. "Anyway, your secret's safe with me. If you ever decide you need a third..." she left the last part hanging. Glancing back the way she came, she remembered something. "I left Melissa back near the main hall. We'd better get out of costume and go back to her."

"Yeah." Cyn said, a bit embarrassed to have been saved by her perceived rival. "Oh no!" She suddenly exclaimed.

"What is it?" Warrick asked.

"The painting! This guy was just a diversion. Some chick called Nightshade was using him to cover her stealing the painting!" Quickly shifting back to normal, she sprinted toward the White Room.

***

"Daring Art Theft Covered By Psionic Battle Royale" read the next day's _Scribe_ front page. A thin smile crossed Tatiana Farnsworth's lips. She'd finally made the front page. Not by name of course, or even in the name of Lady Nightshade – but what mattered was that here crime had been front page material.

She traced a finger around the article and the paper parted as if she had cut it with a razor. Her first front page crime and a big payday from her employer; the day was looking fine indeed. By chance, she caught sight of her desk calendar. 'Dinner with Lisa' was clearly displayed in red marker. Lady Nightshade smiled; she did enjoy her niece's visits. And this week, she had something to celebrate.

Across the room, the reason for her celebration, Unknown's _Portrait of Morganna le Fay_ , lay quietly in a plain brown package.

***

"Oh, come on, Warrick, just jump in the damn pool." Cyn commanded, bobbing up and down in the water. She had added webbing between her hands and toes to help her swim better.

The tentacles wrapped themselves more tightly around Warrick's midsection and seemed to shiver with fear. "Sorry, Cyn, but these two are afraid they'll rust if they get wet."

"Then un-summon them." Cyn pouted.

"No can do." Warrick defended "I figure that it's bad enough that I un-summon them whenever we're out in public. It just doesn't seem fair to them."

There was a splash and a spray of water crashed over both Warrick and the tentacles.

"Sorry about that." Juniper said, paddling over to where Cyn was bobbing. She gave Cyn an amused nod.

"See?" Cyn said, taking the hint. "Now they're going to rust or not rust no matter what. Now get in here!" She extended her arm to catch Warrick's leg and pull him in.

"Shouldn't we say something to them about roughhousing in the pool?" Alexis asked, reclining in a deck chair poolside.

Laurel shrugged. "One's just shifted gills for herself, one has ice powers and the last one has a pair of tentacles that all indicators say could toss a truck if need be. I figure that if they actually start rough housing, we'll need to move anyway."

Alexis smirked at this. "You have a point. But really, by now I'm sure they're more than used to not throwing their powers around."

The caramel skinned woman shrugged. "I'd like to point out that you and Ian have been throwing your powers around a lot lately. I mean first with the Kin, and then with Juniper?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." Laurel smiled. "I'm just saying that you two are great role models for the kids."

End Issue #4

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#

# Issue #5: Legends of Chaos and Darkness

## Mystic Spiral Part 1

##

##

## Legends of Chaos and Darkness (Part 1)

Wales, 1141 A.D.

"Where is my son? Where is he?!" Frantic screams were accompanied by rattling chains and the sounds of heavy blows landing against the stout, iron bars that separated the specially prepared cell from the rest of the circular room.

Marcus of Hafren watched the struggles within the cell with a pained look upon his age worn countenance. Once he had been handsome and young and had a bright destiny. But the last decade had ground away not only his fortune, but his aspirations and hope for better days. All to come to this moment – for the piteous creature contained in the iron cage.

Even wrapped in the specially treated cold iron chains, standing in a circle of runes blessed by one of the few remaining druids and behind bars of yet more cold iron; being in the cage was still intimidating, almost feral. But in Marcus, she inspired sadness and regret.

"When I find him, he will slaughter you all and drink your blood!" She screamed, straining at the chains. Tiny blue sparks crackled along them, but the bars held against whatever magic she was plying against them.

"I hope Drennl isn't taking his time on this." The other man in the room said. Tall and slender as a sapling, he was the druid who had constructed the cold iron prison. "She's too strong. The shackles will break and we'll never get this chance again. Even if she does let us live."

Marcus shook his head sadly. "I never meant for this to happen. Geoffrey never meant for this to happen either. We just thought it a story. We thought we could make our place in history by telling a tale of the bear-man – making an old hero into a legend. I... didn't think it was real."

"The story isn't real." The druid, who had yet to give Marcus his name, even after years of working with him, replied. "At least not anywhere but her mind." More blue sparks flew from the cold iron chains as the woman inside redoubled her efforts against her imprisonment. "But the magic IS real. You were ignorant of that. You saw no danger in filling her head with it."

"Her mother tried to stop me..." Marcus shuddered.

"And it earned her an early grave."

The door to the circular room flew open, carrying the hot wind of midday with it. Drennl, the courier hastened inside, carrying a large, rectangular shape under one arm. "I'm sorry; we had to let it dry." He explained as Marcus and the druid set to work erecting a stand in front of the cell door.

"Careful with that," Marcus said as they put the object in its place. "The wealth of twenty families, and the blood of many, many others paid for this. We cannot risk damaging it."

"Not to mention the combined might of magicians from across the realm." The druid added.

"Are you sure this will work?" Drennl eyed the struggling woman warily. "That it will stop her forever."

"Nothing is forever." The druid said. His frustration with the foolish notions of the other men was clear in his tone. "But it will keep her at bay until such time as our knowledge of the things she has tapped has progressed enough to allow future generations to stop her."

Marcus shook his head sadly. "We've paid enough—had enough rumors spread—that this will be the most valuable object in the known world for generations. No one will break the seal placed here."

Blue sparks crackled again, accompanied by the sound of groaning metal.

"Do it now, Marcus." The druid commanded.

Taking a deep breath, Marcus caught the woman's eyes. "Please, Elise... please, just once more – for the sake of God and our land... look upon me... and recognize me."

Through sweaty locks of hair, the feral woman gazed up, her eyes embers of hatred and defiance. "Y...you don't know anything. You... you think you do, but you're wrong. I'm not who you—who you think I am. I am Morganna le Fay."

That was all Marcus needed; eye contact. His hand moved quickly to rip the oilcloth from the object stood before the cell door. Confused, Elise—Morganna—shifted her gaze toward the image on the canvas there. It was a single moment; one in which she saw herself portrayed in the most intimate detail of any painting she had ever seen.

A moment was all it took and that moment stretched on into infinity. Elise slumped in her chains; her body, bereft of its motivating force simply lay down and died.

Marcus bit his lip to hold back the tears and bid farewell to Elise, his little girl. His beloved daughter.

***

Mayfield, Virginia, 2074 A.D.

Warrick watched the cue ball ricochet its way around the pool table. In route, it sent the five, three and two balls into three separate pockets. The tentacles raised their cue in victory.

"Big deal," He said with a grimace, "You still had to team up to beat me." The tentacles made a gesture that while totally alien to any human physiology, was clearly rude. "Oh, real mature guys." Warrick rolled his eyes.

The door opened and Ian entered from outside, closing his umbrella and placing it in the stand next to the door as he did. As testament to the effectiveness of the umbrella, he was soaked to the bone. "I see one of us had the basic common sense to stay inside today." He noted.

"Melissa had some too. She's upstairs talking with Kareem." Warrick shot Ian a glance as he started racking the balls up again. "Up for a game?"

Ian noticed the look and nodded. "Another chance for you to make yourself feel better after getting your ass handed to you by your tin friends here? Sure." The tentacles made the same rude gesture at him as they had made at Warrick earlier. Warrick snickered. "What?" Ian blinked.

"They're aluminum, not tin." Warrick said, with a smirk. "They're not happy being called tin."

"I know Cyn tells you this on a daily basis," Ian said, "But your powers are weird." Unlike Alexis, he didn't try to ignore the fact and unlike Laurel, he didn't try to sugar coat it. The younger psionic seemed to appreciate that about him.

"That's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about."

Ian pretended that he hadn't noticed Warrick's nervous, shifty glances leading up to this. Just because he seemed honest to them, didn't mean that he didn't know when to lie to make them more comfortable. "You wanted to talk to me?" He casually took a pool cue off the stand against the wall. "Okay, what's up?" Just as casually, he positioned the cue ball to break.

In reply, a smooth piece of pinkish material, about the size of a person's thumb landed on the table in front of the cue ball.

Laying the cue stick aside, Ian picked up the substance. Aside from its odd hue – a cross between light pink and mother of pearl, it was rather unremarkable. "What's this?"

"You probably heard about the whole thing at the craft expo a couple days ago?" Warrick began.

"Yeah, when you and the girls told us you three went to the Lexington Gallery and the mall at the Gates Center?" Ian didn't even bat an eye at the fact that the youngsters had been somewhere other than where they had told him. The prolonged existence of Life Savers, Inc depended on such minor deceptions.

Warrick nodded.

"So what does this have to do with you two – excuse me – three stopping some crazy psionic from running amok?"

"Well, he was using these super hot fire blasts against us." The young man began. "So I made us a shield out of copper to protect us. That... was a bad idea."

"Yeah, copper's as good at conducting heat as it as at conducting electricity. That's elementary chemistry." Ian shrugged, turning the chunk of pink stuff over in his hands thoughtfully. He gave Warrick a rueful look for the disbelieving look on the younger man's face. "I do have a Bachelors of Applied Engineering, I'm allowed to know some chemistry."

"That sort of thing didn't really go through my mind at the time; what with the deadly fireballs and everything." Warrick said with such a straight face that Ian wondered if he was being sarcastic or not. "Anyway, things started to heat up and I finally felt the heat moving through the copper in my metal sense. So I tried using my power to strengthen the copper against the heat..." He trailed off.

"How does that even work?" Ian asked, knowing full well the answer was 'psionics' followed by a shrug. At least that's the answer he always got when he asked how his own powers worked. The actual mechanics of many psionic powers had spawned entire new branches of biology, all of which were new, exciting and largely inconclusive.

"It didn't." Warrick frowned. "At least not the way I expected. I pushed everything I had into the copper and it kind of, uh... broke." He said the last word as if he didn't know if it was the right word.

"Broke apart?" Ian asked.

"No, I mean it broke—like on the molecular level – sub-molecular, actually. It broke apart and came back together into a disc of that stuff you're holding right now."

Ian eyed the material nervously, as if it would bite him if he took his eyes off it. "What is this, Warrick?"

"I didn't know at first." The young psionic admitted. "My metal sense picked it up, but I couldn't identify it like I do iron or tin or something." He crossed the room to one of the couches and sat down on the back of it. "So yesterday, I went down to the science museum and took a look at their periodic table sample exhibit. Its bismuth, a metal I've never even heard of. But get this; it has one of the lowest heat conductions of any elemental metal."

Ian hadn't been prepared for this. He took a few moments to decide what to ask. "You're telling me that your powers let you take matter apart and put it back together into a form that could protect you – on instinct?"

Warrick nodded, slowly. The room was quiet for a few minutes as both tried to decide what to say and do with this information.

***

Across town, Lisa Ortega smiled as her aunt finished recounting the tale of a road trip her mother and two other aunts had taken to the Grand Canyon.

"You make it sound so awesome, Aunt Tay," Lisa said, using the nickname for the older woman her mother always used. "I can't believe mom stole a burro, that's so unlike her."

Lisa's aunt, Tatiana Farnsworth smiled at her. "Well, she wasn't always the stuffed shirt researcher over at ConquesTech, Lisa. She was a girl your age once and she did just as many crazy things as you've probably done." She was an elegant woman with dark hair and eyes to match. Her jewelry told of a vast amount of wealth when her modest apartment didn't.

"You know, you love to embarrass mom, but you never tell me anything about the kind of trouble I'm sure you used to get into." Lisa said conspiratorially. Her visits with her aunt only came once a month, but she was grateful for every moment she got with the person who seemed to be the only proof that being boring wasn't simply part of her genetic makeup.

Tatiana laughed. "I was mom's good girl back then, believe it or not. School reporter, honor roll, perfect attendance – I wanted to be the perfect student and daughter. My idea of an accomplishment back then was measured in how many entries I got in the yearbook."

Lisa glanced over at the multitude of trophies and pictures that adorned the walls of her Aunt Tay's dining/living room. For lack of a better word, her aunt was an adventurer. She had climbed Kilimanjaro, had kayaked half the suitable waterways in the United States, and had done at least two walkabouts in the Australian Outback. It was hard to believe that the woman before her had ever been what her grandmother would have called a 'good girl'.

The phone in Tatiana's office rang. "Hold that thought, Lisa." She said, a barely hidden satisfaction playing on her face. "I've got to take this." She swiftly moved back to the office and closed the door before picking up the phone. "Nightshade." She said into the receiver.

"Good evening', Lady Nightshade." The twang of Vincent Liedecker's voice came through. "So sorry it took so long to get a hold of ya. We've had some work going on, over here that needed my close attention."

"I thought the painting was important to you." Tatiana said, unafraid of the crime lord.

"Not as much as the fifty million it was insured for, no." Liedecker said, "Don't get me wrong, it's a nice picture – pretty lady on it and all – but it's definitely not the Jewel of the Known World it used to be called."

"I'm actually curious as to how you came to be in possession of this jewel." Tatiana said conversationally. "It may not be worth much anymore, but the legends behind it would probably have landed it a comfy place in a museum somewhere."

"I don't see what business it is of yours, but I don't see no harm telling you." The phrase came with a verbal shrug. "Back in my globetrotting days, I found a vault in the basement of a mosque in what was left of Baghdad. Don't know how it got there – probably loot taken back from crusaders – but that little beauty was part and parcel."

"So you looted a holy site for a treasure of the ancient world." Tatiana said, "And then used that treasure as part of an insurance scam?" She could barely contain the disgust she felt for such acts, or for her part played in it.

"That's correct, Lady." Liedecker seemed too proud of his ingenuity to notice Tatiana's disgust. "Now, if you'd be so kind as to drop that treasure off at Tenth Street Shipping, you can get your payday and we can conclude our business."

"What's going to happen to the painting?" she asked for reasons she wasn't entirely sure of. "You can't exactly show it off now that it's 'stolen'".

"You're asking a lot of questions that ain't really your business, Lady." The arms dealer drawled. "If you must know, it's going to stay at the warehouse."

For some reason, the thought of the _Portrait of Morganna le Fay_ lying in a dark warehouse filled Tatiana with something close to dread. She shook herself and gave Liedecker a look through the phone. She wasn't an art lover, but this painting was... something special. "You can't do that."

The silence on the other end of the phone was a palpable thing; a coiling serpent, ready to strike. Finally, Liedecker spoke. "I don't think you meant to say that, Lady Nightshade. No. Body. tells me what I can't and can't do – not even my mama. You will have that painting at Tenth Street Shipping by midnight tonight – or bad things are gonna happen."

Her mouth went dry. What had she done? Why had she done that? It didn't matter; Liedecker only knew her through Brother Wright and with him missing, he had no way of knowing who she was, or even how to contact her unless she contacted him first. She was totally safe.

"By your silence, Nightshade, you think maybe you're immune to me. Maybe you think you don't need to apologize and beg for forgiveness?" He chuckled. "Or maybe you don't care what happens to you – you seem the type. But don't make the mistake of crossing me. Have that painting at TSS tonight or else – Tatiana Farnsworth." The line went dead.

Suddenly, she realized everything that was wrong with the conversation – Liedecker wasn't even supposed to know the number to her office phone – and yet he did. Tatiana slammed the phone down into its cradle. She was marked for death. What was going to happen now?

"Aunt Tay?" Lisa opened the door to the office. "Is everything okay? I heard you yell."

Schooling her face, Tatiana smiled at her niece. "Sorry, Lisa... I... thought I saw a spider."

"Ew." Lisa said, glancing around the room. Even if being boring wasn't genetic, she imagined that arachnophobia was.

"Don't worry, I was mistaken." Tatiana said quickly. "Uh, listen, I've got to run an errand for a friend. I'm really sorry to cut our visit short, but it's really important." Her gaze traveled to the painting. She couldn't let it stay in a warehouse after all that time in a vault. For some reason, the thought wrenched her heart.

"Its okay, Aunt Tay." Said Lisa, always an understanding girl. "I'll call you next week? Maybe we can do lunch."

"Yeah..." Tatiana said. Of course, all that hinged on her being alive next week. "Oh, before you go, I have a present for you."

"Really?" Lisa asked. It was a ritual between them. Every time the two would visit, her aunt would give her a last minute present, purchased from a curio shop during her frequent outings. Unbeknownst to Lisa, some of these presents had previously been part of museum collections or in the private vaults of the wealthy.

This day's present was forgotten though. Tatiana took the wrapped painting from what it stood and offered it to her niece who accepted it with a huge smile on her face. "Don't open it until you get home, okay?" she asked, trying to sound like herself.

Lisa nodded and tucked the package under an arm before giving her aunt a hug. "Thanks Aunt Tay." She said, before Tatiana walked her out of the apartment.

Alone in the room, Tatiana's head cleared. She had just killed herself. Not with her own hand, but it was close enough – deliberate enough. And she had not idea why. Regarding the room full of her accomplishments, she made a fist with her right hand. She didn't want to die. She wouldn't die – but she would have to disappear...

##

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## Legends of Chaos and Darkness (Part 2)

The lead pipe laid before Warrick deformed wildly, like some living thing struggling against unseen forces as blue sparks danced over it. Flecks of black material shed from the surface, leaving gleaming gold beneath. In a matter of seconds, a six inch length of lead piping had become a palm size irregular chunk of gold.

"I guess all that glitters can be gold." Laurel said, trying to hide her awe. She, along with Cyn and Juniper were sitting cross legged on the grass a few feet from where the Freeland House property terminated at the shores of the ill named Lake Standish, which was simply a very large man made pond separating the Freeland House property from its neighbors.

Cyn leaned over the newly transmuted chunk of precious metal. "Okay, the tentacles are one thing, but the new 'philosopher's stone' capability pings you ten for ten on the weird-o-meter." The tentacles were too concerned with prodding the end result of Warrick's newly discovered powers to take offense.

Warrick himself shrugged. "Just when you thought I couldn't get any weirder, eh?" the last few days had given him time to come to terms with this bizarre new facet of his powers much like he had come to terms with the sapient tentacles. He picked up the piece of gold and used a more familiar aspect to pull a piece off as if it was putty. A few seconds of concentration transformed the piece he had taken into a simple gold band. "Any more Middle Earth jokes, Ms. Brant?"

Laurel picked up the ring and gave it a once over. Sure enough, perpetual geek he was, Warrick had etched a rough estimation of a familiar line of script into the bauble. She couldn't help but laugh. "Do not meddle in the affairs of metal controllers, for they are clever and quick to sight gags." She tossed the ring back to him. "I think you've won this round, Warrick."

"So... what do I do about this?" Warrick asked, shaping the remaining gold into a perfect sphere and tossing it up and down in his hand.

Laurel shrugged. "It's up to you. It seems to be totally under control... except you're tending to tarnish odd coins and such when you do it; and all my analysis say that the black material created as a by-product is inert; so I don't see any problem leaving things up to you."

"Are you kidding?!" Cyn burst out. "You can turn lead into gold and god knows what other crap metals out there into other kinds of liquid cash! There's only one thing you can do with it!" In one of her trademark lapses in subtlety, she darkened a spot on her forehead to resemble a dollar sign. Everyone smirked at that, but Warrick shook his head.

"Nah, Cyn. That's not only really unfair, but what happens when my cans-to-gold scam floods the gold market – gold's valuable for a reason, right?"

"Then you make platinum!" Cyn almost shrieked in her excitement. Her best friend was a literal goldmine. It was almost more than a girl could handle.

"I think this is why Ms. Brant said she trusted Warrick with deciding what to do with it – because, you know, he won't... well... destroy civilization with his powers." Juniper spoke for the first time since the impromptu demonstration.

Cyn gave her a dirty look. The feud was over (before Juniper knew it had begun), but on occasion the brunette would say something Cyn was sure was meant to raise her hackles. "That's not it." She sniffed, "I mean my plan wouldn't destroy civilization..." The others gave her amused but pointed glances. ".. per se..."

Laurel chuckled. "I have no doubt that you'd stop short of that, Cyn – but even with the sizable allowance we give you kids, you seem to go through it faster than anyone else." She patted the pouting girl on the head. "Besides, this isn't your responsibility; it's Warrick's."

"So what do you plan on doing with it?" Juniper asked Warrick.

The young man shrugged. "Well, I think I finally know why I was in all those chemistry classes at the Academy – too bad I never paid attention. At the very least, I should know what I'm capable of, so I guess it's time to hit the books."

"I don't agree with this plan." Cyn said, "Isn't there a happy medium between 'live like a golden god (literally)' and 'boring chemistry lesson'?"

Juniper laughed. "How about this; we help Warrick pick up some useful books... and in return he orders AND pays for some of those complicated coffee orders you like at the Dungeon."

Cyn grinned. Sometimes, Juniper did prove her worth. "Deal."

"Don't I get a say in this?" Warrick asked. "I mean I don't actually need you two to help me get books on chemistry."

"Nope." Cyn said. "You're out voted."

Warrick pretended to be crestfallen, despite not really minding. "This is going to happen all the time now, I can tell." He smirked as an amusing thought came to mind; with the recent addition of Juniper, there were four girls in their little circle of friends (discounting the shrinking violet, Melissa). "Nothin' says lovin' like somethin' from the coven."

***

At one time, the Dungeon had been a night club. Before that, it had been an antique store and when the block had been converted from an apartment complex to a commercial center, it had been an arcade. In each incarnation, its various owners saw fit to keep the original name and fit their establishments' theme to it.

As a café (which it had remained for the last six years), the Dungeon took on a hybrid theme of medieval setting and cyber-café. The effect was an interesting study in mixed genres, with computers arranged on stout tables of simulated oak, illuminated by faux torchlight. Combined with reasonable prices and live music on the weekends, these features made the Dungeon a popular hangout for the high school crowd.

Kay and JC were sitting at a table littered with open magazines when Warrick, Cyn and Juniper entered.

"Well, I don't believe it, JC," Kay said melodramatically upon spotting the trio. "Cyn and Kaine are still alive – looks like I owe you a flavor shot." Her hair was its natural black, save for vivid green highlights where it was cut off at chin level.

JC, as Warrick and Cyn had learned by this point, had a knack for dressing in a manner counter to any concept of appropriateness for the environment. This day he wore a sweatshirt stamped with the seal of Dayspring College and cargo shorts. His hair was covered by a black and yellow bandana. "Sweet." He grinned. "You guys just saved me a whole dollar. Glad you're alive."

"I'm glad our life is worth a dollar." Cyn said dryly.

"Hey, is this the new girl over at the boarding house you told me about on the phone, man?" JC asked, ignoring Cyn's baiting. Early on, Cyn and Warrick had fabricated the story that Freeland House was a boarding house for teens. They left the details intentionally vague and luckily, no one asked many questions.

"Yup." Cyn said, jerking a thumb at Juniper. "Juniper, these are JC and Kay the friends were we talking about."

"Pleased to finally meet you." Juniper said as the others moved to take seats at the table.

Warrick picked up one of the magazines on the table and flipped through it. "Car mags" he noted. "which of you is getting a car?"

"Me." Kay said proudly. "After a year of having my license, my dad's finally caving."

"Somehow, I doubt he's going to cave to the tune of a three hundred thousand dollar sports car." Warrick said, noting a few images in some of the other magazines Kay had been perusing.

"A girl can dream, can't she?" Kay said wistfully. "besides, I need something to reflect my rock and roll lifestyle."

"Kay, hon?" Cyn raised an eyebrow. "You don't have a rock and roll lifestyle. I mean you don't even have a band yet; _Snackrifice_ is basically you on keyboards and lyrics and Lisa on bass. You're missing like half a band."

"Details." Kay scoffed. "Hey, Juniper, right?" she had the predatory look in her eye that Juniper had associated with Cyn. Hesitantly, the brunette nodded. "You play an instrument?"

"Not a note." Juniper said. "But I can sing." The moment she said it, Juniper wondered if she was making a mistake getting involved in whatever Kay was doing. She wanted to make friends, yes, but she had only met Kay moments before.

"Excellent." Kay steepled her fingers in an intentionally evil looking manner. "Just wait until I tell Lisa we've got a lead vocalist!" She wallowed in her own self satisfaction for a moment, and then realized something. "Hey, where's Lisa anyway?"

JC shrugged. "No idea, but she didn't seem like she felt very good last night when she called me."

"Poor kid." Cyn frowned. "We should probably go see how she's doing later today."

***

After returning home from her visit with her aunt Tay, Lisa had decided to hide the painting under her bed. Somehow, she felt that her parents would object from such an opulent gift from her aunt. In point of fact, she hadn't even looked at it.

So for three nights, the painting was under Lisa's bed as she slept. On the day following the third night, she slept late – until noon. And when the sun had reached its zenith, it wasn't Lisa who awoke.

Morganna. That was the name that presented itself in her mind. She remembered being called by another name, but that was unimportant. She was Morganna le Fay; a dazzling beauty, a mind whose genius was unmatched and one of the most powerful beings in the 12th century AD.

Of course, this wasn't the 12th century. A few cursory moments rifling through her new body's memories told her that the year was recorded as 2074. She had spent over nine hundred years suspended in the web of soul trapping spells the 'unknown' artist had woven over the surface of her image. Her thoughts had ceased the moment she had seen her own face on the vellum.

The next thing she recalled was the moment that someone had disrupted the magic. The idea of cleaning paintings other than cursory dusting had been unheard of in her time. But someone had used some mixture—a chemical, her new body's old mind supplied the word, to remove the filth of centuries in a vault somewhere. And with it, the magics had dissipated, allowing her to touch the world and influence minds in the most subtle ways.

First was the man, Liedecker. He was rich and grasping and it took almost no effort to convince him to make an easy profit. That was all it took to find her way out of his private art collection where she could never find a new body.

Then the thief. Her given name was Farnsworth, but she was one of those who knew their own true-name; Nightshade. Her nature was bombastic, fearless; making her a bit more reckless was also no effort for the powers of Morganna. That had led to her feeling fear, a fear Morganna used in conjunction with her fondness for her kin to find her way into the hands of the young woman – Morganna's new body.

Flexing Lisa's hands experimentally, Morganna rose and crossed the room to the dresser. Rifling through the young woman's memory told her some suitable clothes could be found there. She dressed quickly in a powder blue sundress with a leather belt wrapped thrice around her waist. Scowling at her lack of head accessories, Morganna made note to find one of those... stores? Yes, that was the word, and procure a proper head covering.

Thus prepared, Morganna left the tall domicile her body remembered was called an 'apartment' and struck out into the overgrown forest of similar stone towers called Mayfield. Along the way, she pillaged more of her body's memories.

'Magic' as this time knew it was... tricks. Not even tricks, it was the kind of slight of hand and legerdemain practiced by cutpurses and charlatans. The body 'knew' that magic wasn't real and regarded anyone who believed otherwise as unstable or misguided.

"Then... then... tell me what I was... held by for nine hundred years." Morganna mumbled as she walked. The world had changed greatly in her time imprisoned; alchemical concoctions based on the essence of creatures dead for millennia or the harnessed power of lightning (or a facsimile 'generated' by burning other dead things, or leashing other natural phenomena) provided mankind with the key to wonders that even magic hadn't imagined.

"But without magic it is... nothing. Meaningless." Morganna muttered, stopping at a 'Don't Walk' sign as her body's instincts demanded. Machines powered by alchemy and lightning rumbled past her. Supposedly, they had been created to allow men to travel faster, but in this setting, it seemed that a horse at a trot could outpace them. 'Traffic'; when too many of the modern machines clogged the designated pathways they were allowed to travel.

Rules. Without magic, things had to follow rules. And because of those 'rules', such as those governing where a vehicle could travel, this 'traffic' thing happened. Morganna crossed the street with the light and noticed one of the machines had been abandoned in front of a store. "But... if... if someone were to use magic in conjunction with one of these machines..." she wondered aloud as she slowly circled the thing her body told her was a 'motorcycle'. "Then she could... the rules wouldn't mean... anything to her and she... would get the maximum convenience from the machine."

Sitting astride the machine, she quashed down the protests of her instincts. Taking this thing was wrong, but that was a rule. Morganna was beyond rules. Uttering a few words, she delved her mind into the machine, finding its mechanisms and forcing them into her control. "Live" she verbally commanded the device and it roared for its new mistress.

Yes, these machines were delightful. There had been no resistance as there would be with a human or creature of Faerie. There was no chance that it would shrug off her control – no chance for it to break free. This 'technology' was at her whim.

"This is... is... is..." She searched for the word as she often found she had to. "Perfect." Focusing, she forced her new body as well as the machine into the astral plane. Bystanders stopped and gaped as the girl and motorcycle both became translucent, then faded from being.

Once in the rose tinted environs of the Astral, Morganna smiled. As she suspected, the vehicles and therefore the traffic didn't make an impression on the Astral plane. She could travel the streets at maximum speed here, without need to care about 'traffic' or the local laws her body had tried to make her fret about.

Now she could get down to business. She needed reagents for more complex, longer lasting spells; snake venom, the skins of frogs of newts, and the soft organs of vermin, for starters. Her new body told her that such things were conveniently gathered together for her in one place in this city of towers.

Commanding the motorcycle to roar once more, Morganna set off toward her destination; the G. M. Logan Zoological Park.

##

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## Legends of Chaos and Darkness (Part 3)

"It's a... it's a... menagerie." Morganna mumbled to herself as she wandered goggle-eyed along the brick pathways of the G.M. Logan Zoological Park, located on Mayfield's south end. She had dredged up memories of this place and the unusual creatures contained within, but seeing it on her own was an entirely different experience. She had still been expecting a small gathering of useful animals before she had stepped through the gates and received her first glimpse of the lank, yellow and brown monstrosities she identified as 'giraffes'.

Things hadn't become any better in the hour since. Grey skinned behemoths with serpentine appendages; bears in a great variety – albino, black and white, and a colossal variant called a 'Kodiak'; huge, bipedal rats that moved in a bounding gait and stored their young in gashes in their bellies... it was too much to take in. Trying to recall her body's memories on these matters only made things worse. The flood of new terms and concepts would need hours to assimilate.

But while the menagerie's monsters were confounding, the people were the ones that posed a problem. There were hundreds there; men, women and children, milling about, observing the curiosities. They even took meals here! That many watchers would surely stop her from gathering the necessary regents.

Though she had killed to add to her own power, Morganna didn't fancy herself cold blooded. She wouldn't slaughter hapless dolts who were wholly ignorant of magic – it wasn't sporting and it served no real purpose. She would simply have to wait until this place was less crowded to gather the things she needed. Memory told her it closed to the public at night.

There was a high, tinny warbling sound that made her jump. The sound came again and she realized it was coming from her waist. Glancing down, she noticed a machine her body had clipped to her belt out of habit. Right now habit demanded she open it and place it to her ear – which she did.

"Uh... Lisa?" a male voice came from the device. Morganna blinked, Lisa was the name her body was called by, and it reacted to it. How had the device known her name? A few memories laughed at her and she slowly became aware that the device itself didn't speak; it allowed communication over distance. "Hello?" The voice came again as she was absorbing this new data.

"Yes..." she began tentatively. She remembered the voice. Her new memory brought with it emotions attached to it; attraction, frustration, and a fond, warm happiness. Perhaps this voice belonged to her betrothed?

"Oh good, I thought I'd been cut off." The voice on the other end used some vernacular it took her a moment to understand. "Anyway, Warrick, Kay and Cyn are here, asking about you. If you're feeling alright, they wanted you to meet the new girl at Freeland House."

"I'm... I'm fine." Morganna was struck by the need to assure him of her health. "In fact, I feel... better than I've ever felt."

"Great!" He sounded genuinely relieved. "How about we head over to your place. Want me to bring anything?"

Morganna blinked. What luck; her betrothed would have more experience navigating the shops in this area than she could without taking some serious time sifting through memories. "Oh sure..." she searched for an appropriate sobriquet. "...honey." something in the back of her head was mortified that she had called him that. "Could you bring me something sweet... sugar... something like that? Oh! And... and _meat_! Something exotic... something... do you think you can get me some frog's legs, sweetheart?" That thing in the back of her mind curled up and whimpered.

"O-okay..." the voice said. Morganna could almost see him blinking his confusion. "We'll be at your place in about an hour then. See you in a bit. Bye."

Morganna closed the device – phone; she corrected herself sharply. If she was going to function in this time period, she would have to learn. Time... she thought... her betrothed said he and those other people would be back at her body's family's home in an hour. That was troublesome. She had abandoned the motorcycle machine in the Astral plane when she arrived rather than expend the energy to drag it out again.

Looking around, she found a woman with silver hoop earrings. At least she hoped they were silver; her memory told her that false precious metals and gems were fairly common. But she had to take that chance.

With no hesitation, she walked over to the woman and grabbed the earring in her left lobe. "Need this." She stated as she ripped it out. The woman shrieked and the man that had been walking with her exclaimed in anger.

Morganna didn't notice or really care. The woman had the silver circle she needed for her spell – it was common sense that she take it as needed. It wasn't as if that woman could do magic. Walking away from the stunned couple, oblivious of the zoo security officers advancing on her, she began chanting her spell.

One of the security officers almost reached her when a pool of rosy light flared into being at her feet. Watching the shocked security guards with open curiosity, she sank into the pool of light and was gone.

***

JC slowly lowered his cell phone from his ear, a puzzled look on his face.

"What's wrong?" Juniper asked; empathetic as always.

"Well, apparently Lisa and I are dating again." JC blinked. "She called me 'sweetheart'."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Kay asked with a shrug. "I mean you're not the one who keeps breaking it off." She rolled her eyes "Then again, this is what – your fifth time back up to bat?"

"Third." JC said. He wasn't really bothered by the ebb and flow of his relationship with Lisa. "But that's not the thing that's got me squicked. She was talking really weird – kind of like that old movie; Rain Man or something." He screwed up his nose. "And she asked me to bring her some frog's legs."

"Ew." Warrick and Juniper echoed.

"Philistines!" Cyn made a face at them. "They're good – like escargot."

"I'm not up on taking dining tips from the girl with the iron stomach." Kay pointed out. "I mean I've seen you drink soy sauce when the food is taking too long. Besides;" she said thoughtfully. "Lisa's a really picky eater, I'm pretty sure she'd have been part of the 'ew' chorus on this one."

"People change." Cyn shrugged. "Anyway, we'll ask her about it when we get there – come on, I know this cool Creole place that does frog legs."

The quintet of teens set off to complete their absent friend's strange errand.

***

Zack Ortega lay on the couch in his family's living room, watching television when an explosion of sound and air came from behind him, tossing his hair into his face and unsettling the knickknacks arrayed on the nearby mantle. Sitting bolt upright, he found his sister emerging from a pool of pinkish light in the epicenter of the now settling gale.

At least the person resembled his sister. She had the same six foot, lithe frame, the same light brown hair that fell to her waist, the same tan complexion. However, the siblings were also twins, so some variance was instantly recognizable in his eyes. Where Lisa stood tall and proud, this person hunched, reducing the overall effect of her height. The hair that was normally gathered into a thick braid down her back was loose and blowing in the remnants of the phantom wind. And her face... her eyes were off focus, half scrutinizing everything in sight, half ignoring it all.

"Lisa?" He asked, his voice still not rising above his normal, shy whisper. "Are you okay?"

Morganna didn't notice him at first. She was staring at the earring in her hand. It was glowing as if with some intense heat, but it didn't harm the hand that held it. "It wasn't... wasn't pure." She muttered, "Barely got me back here." She dropped the thing on the floor where it scorched the carpet. Only then did she notice Zack.

"What are you talking about, Lisa?" Zack blinked, leaning over the sofa to watch the earring smolder on the floor. "What's that?"

She tilted her head slightly in a sudden, jerky motion, almost like a nervous tic. "Nothing of your concern, dear brother." She gave his mind a little push. He was a naturally compliant person, used to obeying his sister in the first place and having little in the way of willpower in any event. It took no effort for Morganna to touch his mind and shut it down.

Zack slumped, asleep for at least the next three hours without intervention. With such favorable circumstances, she could have done anything she wanted – but right now all she wanted was not to have to explain herself. She needed some peace and quiet to sit and sift through her memories. Shoving Zack off the sofa and onto the floor, she took his place.

***

"Sugar cookies and frog's legs." Warrick pondered. "Could Lisa have asked for any weirder combination?"

"She didn't ask for the cookies specifically, only something sweet." JC shrugged. The whole group was walking up the hall from the elevator toward Lisa's family's apartment.

"I just hope she appreciates it." Kay said. "Jeez, twenty-eight dollars for the legs? How much does a whole frog cost?"

"I once bought one at the pet shop for three dollars." Juniper offered. "Granted, it wasn't fried and smothered in savory Cajun spices..." She blinked as a new thought hit her. "What exactly do they do with the rest of the frog?"

Cyn snorted. "Gumbo."

"You can't be serious." Juniper asked.

"You don't know, do you?" Cyn said with a wink. "Maybe they make it into sausage, or hot dogs, or some other unrecognizable meat."

"Potted meat." Warrick said, "You ever read those cans? They have to print 'Food Product' on the side just to reassure you." That drew a chorus of laughter from the others. By that time, they had reached the Ortegas' door and JC held up a fist to knock.

The door flew open and there stood Lisa, looking disheveled and feverish. "You made... good time." She murmured and waved them inside. She gave JC and odd look and added "Sweetheart." The four others outside the door exchanged glances.

JC looked back at the others and started inside. The door led into a small hallway with the kitchen off to the left, and the living room straight ahead. Lisa led them to the kitchen. "Yeah..." JC started "about that... Are we back together again?"

"Back...together?" Lisa blinked, as she swept her gaze over the group. She also surveyed them in other, arcane senses. Something about a few of them was off. "Oh yes! I... broke up with you because..." she paused and looked of into the distance, forming the words. "I don't have any control over my temper. I...I get angry at you too easily and... do things I regret soon after." Morganna felt a part of her mind flush with embarrassment.

"Wait... did you just admit that?" Kay asked. "I mean we all knew that—but damn."

"Yes, I suppose I am." Lisa said quickly. "Did you bring the things I asked for? The... the... frog's legs and sugar?" She seemed totally oblivious to the surprise registering on Kay and Cyn's faces.

"Yeah." JC said slowly. He was happy to be dating Lisa again, but increasingly apprehensive about her odd behavior. Forcing a warm smile, he handed her the bag containing the wrapped cookies and foam take out container with the frog's legs.

Lisa took it greedily with a small squeal of excitement that triggered another round of nervous glances. Without further preamble, she tore into the cookies first and spent an uncomfortably long moment regarding them before cramming one entire cookie into her mouth. As she chewed, she muttered something no one there could understand.

Morganna's senses sharpened. As the attunement spell that had required plant sugars took effect, she could hear the heartbeats of those assembled, smell the scent of their nervousness as well as JC's tentative happiness. And she could feel the power locked inside the ones she had seen as strange earlier. "This... this is wrong. Very wrong." She muttered, spitting crumbs as she did. "No one else has magic. This... doesn't feel like magic. It feels like... Faerie?" She shook her head. It felt like the innate power of the fey race, but it was something else entirely – something new and alien to her.

"Fairies?" Cyn questioned. "What the hell are you talking about Lisa?"

She was ignored as Lisa tore open the container with the frog's legs. The former amphibian appendages had been breaded and fried then covered in thick, brown gravy. Lisa whimpered, her jaw dropping. Then she rounded on her friends, eyes blazing.

"They're cooked!" She shrieked, "Burned! You... you... you burned them with fire and mingled them with grains and herbs! Almost useless!" The last part was a wail as she tried desperately to wipe the batter and gravy off a leg joint.

"You wanted them raw?" Cyn asked, disapprovingly. "Even I wouldn't eat them raw."

"That's how it works." Lisa mumbled peeling a bit of burnt skin off and setting it carefully aside. "If you burn it... cook a thing, you change it, make it something else. You... you take its meaning and make it less powerful." She was working faster now, amassing a small pile of frog skin. "You... your stupid world without magic. You don't... don't know anything. You don't comprehend!"

"Lisa, calm down." Kay put a hand on Lisa's arm with concern in her eyes. "I think you may be sick or some—"

Lisa's hand moved like a snake, jerking Kay's arm aside and twisting it painfully. "You." She declared. "You aren't natural. A thing that changes the Rules without touching the power. What _are_ you?"

Warrick stepped into the fray quickly seizing the arm that held Kay and trying to pull it free. "Whoa, Lisa. What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm not Lisa." Morganna snarled, fixing her eyes on an old iron skillet hung over the range as a decoration. "I took her. Pressed her down. She's still here, but she can't do anything. I'm here now too. I'm... I'm in charge now."

"And just who the hell are you then?" Cyn came over to help pry the two girls apart.

Morganna pushed herself away and grabbed the skillet off the wall and chanted something strange. Headless of the consequences of Lisa, Kay and JC learning his secret, Warrick reached out with his power to wrench the makeshift weapon away from her, but was shocked when his powers were repelled by it. The cooking utensil flared with a pale blue light and then transformed. The handle was the same, but the skillet itself elongated and flattened, becoming a thin, oddly elegant blade.

"I am magic. I have struck fear in the circles of wizards and faerie courts. I have made power mine with spell and blade and a cunning mind. I am Morganna le Fay." Morganna intoned as she lunged at them with the enchanted blade.

##

##

## Legends of Chaos and Darkness (Part 4)

Warrick wrenched Kay sideways, out of the path of the flashing blade. At the same time, he tried again to attack the weapon with his powers. Once again, he failed. Morganna swung again, forcing him to stumble back with Kay still clutched near him.

"What the hell's wrong with you?!" Cyn demanded. She grabbed Morganna's wrists and tried to hold her back. "Have you completely flipped?"

Juniper grabbed Kay from Warrick's grasp and put her free hand on JC's shoulder. "We need to get out of here. We need to call the police." Seeing 'Lisa' struggle violently with Cyn was all the convincing the two needed and they allowed Juniper to coax them toward the door.

"What about Warrick and Cyn?" Kay asked as they exited.

"They'll be right behind us." Juniper assured.

Back in the kitchen, Morganna felt her grip on the ensorcelled weapon slipping. The girl, Cyn was strong – far stronger than a natural human her size would be. "What are you?" She grunted. "You are no mundane being... no human... but you are not Faerie... a fey either."

"What the hell are you talking about?!" Cyn demanded. She had reached the end of her patience with Lisa's new strangeness. To be truthful, she was a bit unnerved that Lisa suddenly knew she was a psionic but she was most disturbed at being called inhuman. "If you can turn frying pans into swords – guess what? You're psionic too!" With that, she flattened her hands to paper thinness and forced them under Morganna's grip, seizing the weapon away.

Pushing away from Cyn, Morganna stared at her as if studying her under glass. She searched her new memories and dug up knowledge on people with superhuman abilities. Those people were capable of a range of things that albeit specialized, was capable of breaking the same basic rules magic was capable of. They were usurpers, pale reflections of the true variety and greatness of magic.

Morganna's eyes flashed. "Abomination!" she howled. Her summoned sword was gone, magic leaking from it like a sieve, and she had no other handy reagents or foci to work with. That left only vulgar magic as an option.

Vulgar magic was the crudest, easiest form of magic. It relied purely on pouring the right amount of energy into something in the right pattern to create an effect. It was short lived, unreliable, and often had damaging or even explosive results. It was the magical equivalent of grasping the reigns of reality with one's bare hands and twisting it into the basic shape one wanted. And that is exactly what Morganna did.

Red light formed in her hand and before Cyn could react, Morganna thrust it into her midsection. Raw lines of force shot out in a cone from Morganna's outstretched hand, accompanied by a sound like thunder. Cyn was lifted bodily and thrown into the kitchen wall, smashing through the drywall and landing in the front hall.

"I am magic... power overwhelming! You are wrong. Anathema. I will—"Morganna's tirade was cut off by a metal tentacle wrapping swiftly around her midsection, forcing the air from her lungs in a loud 'whuff'.

"Lisa, I don't know what's going on here," Warrick said, directing the other tentacle to bind her thrashing legs. "But this isn't you. We're your friends. Kay's your _best_ friend. You don't want to hurt us and we don't want to hurt you. Just calm down."

Morganna wasn't listening. Her mind was on the presences she was now aware of. Moments ago the tentacles had been bands wrapped around the 'psionic's' arms; inert and inanimate. Now they were _alive_. Not just animated, but alive. In her mage's senses, she could feel their living, thinking minds even as they tried to hold her immobile. This was something that magic couldn't do; something nothing of Faerie was capable of. It was unique and something she would need to learn more about.

She began to giggle. It wasn't Lisa's amused chuckle, no; it was a mad, low titter that had her shaking in her aluminum bonds. "Something new... something I can work with in this... barren world." She muttered and began to outright laugh uncontrollably.

Cyn glared at the hysterical woman as she got off the floor. Her irritation at the situation was quickly catching up to her concern for her friend. "Lisa." She said through clenched teeth, "Stop it."

"No." Morganna said, suddenly cutting her own laughter off. "You... you don't understand. You won't understand until... until it's too late." Vulgar magic didn't need the fancy hand gestures that higher magics required. It only needed knowledge and will, which Morganna had in spades.

Blue sparks raced up her body, dancing briefly over the tentacles before racing down their length into Warrick who screamed and fell to the ground, convulsing. The tentacles let out a similarly pained sound and dropped Morganna as if burned.

"Warrick!" Cyn exclaimed, rushing to her fallen friend. He was shivering, seemingly knocked senseless, but aside from painful looking burns where the tentacles attached to his arms, he was still whole. She glared up at Morganna who was just regaining her feet. "I don't care what powers you've got, Lisa. You've got to be stopped. So you don't hurt anyone else and for your own good." With that, she leapt at her.

Morganna flattened to the ground, allowing Cyn to pass harmlessly over her. "Oh, but I do... care about your powers." She hissed, dashing past Warrick and into the hall. "But I can't... don't have time to see to them now. I have to find regents... get foci... magic is complicated – everything I've shown you are just... tricks."

"You don't even know what you're talking about." Cyn said, rounding on her and preparing to charge again. "Psionic powers aren't magic. There's no such thing." She ran headlong into Morganna seeking to knock her out.

Letting the blow come, Morganna girded herself in magic, forcing it into taunt lines around her upper torso and arms. "This. Is. Magic!" She lifted Cyn bodily off the floor. With the last remnant of her hasty spell, she threw Cyn down the hall into the living room. The young shapeshifter smashed into a bookcase, which let out a groan as it fell on her.

With an almost casual grace, Morganna strolled into the room and looked at Cyn struggling to get the sturdy piece of furniture off of her. "You... should have let me go in the first place." She said with a shrug.

From where Cyn lay, she could see Zack prone beside the sofa. His eyes were wide and vacant, but he was still breathing. "Oh my god..." she murmured. "Lisa, what did you do to Zack? He's you're brother, damnit!"

"He's this body's brother." Morganna shrugged. "I... respected that, I think. He's only... out for the next... hour? Two hours?"

Flattening herself further than humanly possible, Cyn started sliding out from under the bookcase. "Why are you doing this, Lisa? What the hell is going on?"

Strange, mad eyes met Cyn's gaze and she instantly felt fear well up inside her. A bit of power washed over her as Morganna used the eye contact as an impromptu focus for a spell whose description roughly translated to truth speaking. "Hear me... psionic. I am... not the one whose face you see. I am... inhabiting her. Riding her skin. I am... exactly as told you – Morganna le Fay. wielder of the knowledge that grants power—Magic... in its true form."

She finished with a sharp kick that pressed the bookcase down harder on top of Cyn and walked over to the picture window that looked out over East 79th street from ten stories up. "This world has... forgotten everything. I will have to... rectify that." She opened the window and looked back at Cyn. "You will tell them... let them know who I am... and what I can do." With that, she threw her power into the wind and stepped out into empty space.

Inside the apartment, Cyn screamed in frustration and rage, but mostly concern for her former friend.

***

Everything in the universe operates according to certain rules; certainties that allow existence to happen. As far back as the pharaohs of Egypt, knowledge of the most basic of these was held by the most learned of men. Those same men suppressed this knowledge. They didn't do so to oppress anyone or for profit; not out of elitism or religious fervor. They did what they did because they were mages and the mere knowledge of things such as gravity made magic harder to perform.

The human brain rejects magic, especially magic that violates rules it knows to be true. For example, a brain that has been schooled in the law of gravity knows that it is wrong not to fall in the direction of the strongest gravitational force and subconsciously sabotages any spell to the contrary.

Through rigorous meditation and other mental conditioning, a spellcaster can train their brain to ignore this wrongness, allowing them to freely use physics defying spells at their whim. The problem Morganna was suddenly aware of as she stepped out of the Ortega's tenth story window was thus; such mental conditioning is part of the mind, not the soul. The mind is a physical thing, ingrained in the topography of the living brain. And the brain Morganna was now using was not her own, highly conditioned brain.

And so she plummeted.

Cursing her fate, Morganna could only think how strange it was that her new mind fixated on the oddest of details as it fell; the color of the cars below, how cold the air felt, how the unusual weight on her hand where she had placed the silver ring from Mrs. Ortega's jewelry box was—

She suddenly felt very foolish. She laughed manically as the ground rushed up to dash her into itself – and missed.

***

Warrick groaned as he woke up. His arms ached as if he'd done a thousand push-ups and the familiar weight of the tentacles' bracers was missing. He opened his eyes, only to have them assaulted by the intense brightness of the room he was in. He swiftly closed them again.

"Laurel, he's awake." He heard Cyn say.

"Warrick?" Laurel's voice said. "You're going to be okay. The paramedics got to you before we could, so you're in the hospital."

"Did what I think happened just happen?" Warrick asked. "And where are the boys? They were out when..."

"They curled up and unsummoned by the time I got to you." Cyn said. "Don't worry, I've got their arm thingies right here." Warrick heard the sound of metal ringing against metal as Cyn apparently held them up.

"And the first question?" Warrick asked with a half smile. He was able to squint through the brightness now.

Cyn sighed. "Yeah, it happened."

"Where's Lisa?" He asked.

"That's what I'd like to know." Cyn grimaced. "She threw me under a bookcase and jumped out the window. The bright side is, she definitely didn't go splat."

Warrick sat up, blinking away the last of the brightness. "She's gone? We have to find her. She's dangerous like this!"

"Which is why you shouldn't be going after her." Laurel said. "From what Cyn's told me, Lisa's got some very complex mojo going on and it's not your average, run of the mill psionic power." She shrugged, "If she even is a psionic."

"What do you mean, 'if'?" Warrick asked.

"Have you ever heard of someone that can make swords, shoot lightning, throw people and render people unconscious?" Cyn asked. "Lisa did all of that. Well, at least whatever's in Lisa's head did." She bit her lip. "Warrick, that wasn't even Lisa back there. It's like some alien thing in her head – it said it was skin-riding her."

"Like the episode of Malady Place where the demon got inside Winter and made her hit on—"

"Pretty much." Cyn said.

"So we're dealing with a demon? Demons are real?"

"We don't know anything for sure." Laurel said, "There has got to be some explanation for this—probably involving a new kind of psionic power. The point is there isn't a lot you can do for her right now – not without first finding out what we're getting into."

"She's our friend, Ms. Brant!" Warrick said, "There has to be something we can do."

"On top of that, she's going to come back after us." Cyn shivered, "She acted surprised as hell when she figured out what psionics are and after she noticed the tentacles, she looked at us like we were in a Petri dish."

"I know you two want to help her and I know you two think you can handle it." Laurel sighed. "Look, I know about Lifesavers, Inc, okay?" She didn't pause for the surprised stares. "I've spent a lot of time crawling the web for psionic activity and you three were hard to miss. The fact is, I'm very proud of you for all the good you've managed to do."

"Then why can't—"Warrick started.

"Because whatever's going on with Lisa isn't as simple as a house fire, or a runaway car, nor is she going to be as easy for your guys to deal with as a gang banger or even a rogue psionic – she's your friend and I know you all don't want to hurt her."

"If we're not going to be able to help her, who will?" Cyn demanded.

Laurel gave her a thoughtful look. "Let me take care of convincing them, okay? Right now, you two should take care of your other friends – Kay is especially shaken up by this. I'll send her, Juniper and JC in." She stood, smoothing her skirt out and headed toward the door.

"Convincing them?" Warrick wondered aloud, "You mean..."

Laurel nodded and smiled slightly. "Back when we were in school, they called themselves Chaos and Darkness – those sound like prefect names for prelates, no?"

##

##

## Legends of Chaos and Darkness (Part 5)

Traditionally, the 'courtesy room' was used as a place for family to be alone to discuss medical situations in private. A bit of fast talk from Laurel had relaxed the rules a bit and allowed everyone affected by the comparatively non-serious incident at the Ortega home to use it.

Kay, JC and Juniper sat at one end of the room, quiet, confused, and visibly shaken by what had happened with Lisa. Alexis and Ian sat at the other end, nearest the door, sitting close and talking softly.

"I was always worried about the threats we knew were out there." Alexis clenched her fists. "I was so focused on keeping everything normal for them – to let them have normal lives, that I didn't see it coming." She leaned on Ian who put an arm around her.

"There's not a lot you could have done, Alexis. We've met Lisa. She seemed like a good kid; may still be a good kid under all the crazy that's going on." He rubbed her back as she shuttered with a long, unhappy sigh. "It's not like we could keep the kids from having friends – and Warrick's not even that hurt. You heard the doc, its superficial burns. Once we get home, I'm sure Melissa..." He remembered they weren't alone in the room, "Knows some first aid that'll help."

Alexis nodded. "I know all that, Ian, but I still feel like we should have done something..."

"We can." No one in the room had heard Laurel enter, but she suddenly made her presence known, standing in the doorway with her usual air of confidence and compassion. She gave her friends a smile before directing her attention to the youngsters.

"Warrick's awake now." She said, "Doctor Munroe wants to keep him overnight for observation, but I think he'll feel much better after he sees his friends." The three smiled at her and got up to go.

"I knew he'd be okay." Kay said, putting on a strong front. "He's a good guy; good guys always pull through."

"I won't argue with that." Juniper said, "After all, he saved your life."

"What about Zack?" JC asked.

"Still asleep, I'm afraid – the doctors still don't know why. His mother's with him now though."

JC nodded gravely and exited with the girls.

Laurel closed the door behind them and sat down across from Alexis and Ian. For a few moments, she just surveyed them with a warm smile.

"Doctor Monroe said he just had minor electrical burns." Alexis said, worriedly. "Why does she want to keep him overnight now?"

"Because someone filled her head with all sorts of unrelated statistics about loss of consciousness and possible brain damage." Laurel admitted. "I figured that giving him a night of being waited on hand and foot by nurses would keep him occupied so he wouldn't go looking for this Morganna person before I get a chance to investigate."

"You mean Lisa." Ian said, "Morganna's just something she made up. I guess she thinks she's a twisted version of a prelate or something now that she's got powers."

"I'm not so sure of that." Laurel said, running a hand through her hair.

"What do you mean? Not sure of what?" Alexis asked. Knowing Laurel, she knew better than to ignore the genius level psionic's hunches.

"All of it." Laurel said. "You both heard what Cyn said; this Morganna person was extremely out of character for Lisa even before she went spare. And I'm not even sure we're dealing with a psionic either, to be truthful."

"What else could she be but a psionic?" Alexis asked, "She's clearly got powers."

"Oh, she definitely has powers." Laurel nodded, "more powers than any psionic I've ever heard of." She counted on her fingers. "She can either change her shape or possess people; she emits energy blasts; she can transform one object into another; she's super strong; and she has some ability that lets her survive a ten story fall. That's a tall order for anyone. Even Cyn only really has one power; she's just really creative with it."

"Couldn't this person also be really creative?" Ian pointed out, "Maybe she's a top tier psionic like we used to hear rumors about – probability manipulators, temporal adepts – that kind of thing."

"I can't rule that out either." Laurel admitted. "but we can't rule out that she may be something else entirely. Either way, as unstable as she is – especially if this really is Lisa thinking she's someone else, she's dangerous and it falls to us to stop her. We're the only ones who can."

Alexis shook her head, "No, we're not prelates – we can't risk drawing attention to us and the kids."

"If we don't, the kids will." Ian said with certainty in his voice. "Plus, we've already done it a couple times before."

"That was different." Alexis said slowly, "The kids were in trouble..."

"So were the Kin." Ian pointed out.

"So was Juniper." Laurel added, "And now so is Lisa. If she goes nuts with her powers in public, you better believe the Academy will send their thugs to Mayfield and how long do you think it'll take them to discover our kids once they do?"

Frowning, Alexis lowered her head. "You've made your point. We can't let this girl stay out there alone and out of control. How do we start?"

***

Warrick used the bed's controls to manipulate it into a sitting position as the rest of his friends entered. "Hey guys." He said as if nothing had happened.

"Glad you're alright, man." JC nodded to him. "I don't even know what to say. I didn't see it coming."

"No worries," Warrick shook his head. "None of us did. I'm just glad no one was hurt." He touched his bandaged arm and winced, "...much."

"I'm sorry about all of that, Kaine." Kay said, moving over beside the bed, "This is sort of my fault. She freaked out because of me."

"What's that mean?" Cyn asked from across the bed. "She was pretty much freaking out at everything back there."

"No," Kay shook her head, "It was me." She heaved a long sigh. "Okay, none of this leaves this room, understand?" The others nodded and she continued, "Somehow, she could tell—I mean, she knew I was..." Another sigh.

"Now you're talking like she was." Cyn said to lighten the mood. No one laughed.

"I'm a psionic." Kay finally said. None looked more surprised than Warrick and Cyn. "That's what she freaked out over."

"Wait... what?" Warrick tilted his head as if that would help him see Kay's psionic nature more clearly.

"How did we not know this?!" Cyn exclaimed. There was more meaning in what she said than Kay knew.

"Really? That's awesome!" JC said, oblivious.

Juniper took note of the surprised response and cocked her head inquisitively, "How come you didn't tell your friends?" she asked, "It's not like there's much widespread hate for u—psionics these days."

"That's not the point." Kay said, looking around at her friends. "Look, if they found out, my parents would send me off to the Academy and I'd end up training for a boring desk job or something for the rest of my life and I'm not exactly thrilled about that."

Juniper shivered at the mention of the Academy and touched her scars under her sleeve.

"Exactly." Kay said, assuming the shiver was in response to the prospect of taking a desk job.

"So... what do you do?" JC asked, unknowingly provoking Cyn to roll her eyes.

Kay smiled sheepishly. "You know how I play keyboards, right?" She asked. He nodded, "Ever notice that you've never seen me put batteries in?" He blinked and she snickered. "I can pretty much copy any sound I've heard. Voices, music, background noise – check it out, JC, remember that concert you me and Lisa went to in January?" She started moving her mouth, but she wasn't speaking. Instead, the strains of _Burning Down the Garden_ by Our Ladies of Armageddon emerged, with complete vocals and instrumentals. Listening carefully, the others could also hear slight crowd noise.

"Sweet!" Warrick said, "You're a human recorder."

"Human mixing board, actually." She smiled at him. To prove it, she produced a few strains of violin accompanied by piano.

The group talked for about twenty minutes before Alexis, looking a bit pale even for her, arrived to tell JC and Kay that their parents had arrived to take them home. That left Warrick, Cyn and Juniper alone in the room.

"So Kay's like us." Juniper sighed, "But we can't tell her. What a situation."

"It's worse than that." Cyn said, "Lisa or Morganna or whoever is squicked by psionics and can detect them. I mean she went off on Kay and her powers are totally non-offensive. That means she's not just after us but every psionic in the city!"

***

In his hospital bed, Zack looked comfortable; almost as if he was simply dozing. But nothing the paramedics or doctors had tried could wake him up. His mother, Antonia sat by his bedside, holding his hand and speaking a quiet prayer in between quiet sobs.

"Will he be alright?"

Antonia looked up to see her older sister, Tatiana standing by the now open window. "Tay?" She asked hoarsely. "When did you get in?"

"Just now." Tatiana said, crossing the room with a fluid grace. "I was on my way out of town and decided to stop by to say goodbye to my niece and nephew – but the place was swarming with cops." She put a hand on her nephew's forehead. "Is he going to be alright, Toni?"

The younger sister shrugged. "They don't even know what's wrong with him. He's just... asleep."

"How's Lisa? Was she hurt too?" Antonia shuddered in response, causing Tatiana to lean closer to her. "Oh my god, what happened?"

"She..." Antonia sobbed, "We talked about this before... with daddy's empathy and your... powers... We knew that the twins might have powers too, but I thought they were too old now. And I didn't expect anything like this—"

"Toni, tell me, please. They're my niece and nephew, I need to know."

"Lisa is the one that did this." Antonia was weeping openly now. "She attacked her friends. They said she wasn't herself. She was talking about magic and calling herself 'Morganna' and... and... they found Zack like this afterward." She let her sister hug her as she broke down completely.

Morganna. Tatiana's mind raced. She had given Lisa Unknown's _Portrait of Morganna le Fay_ only three days ago. And suddenly she was acting strangely—just as she had when she had been on the phone with Liedecker. A hiss of mixed anger and fear escaped her lips. Something bad was happening and she was the cause.

Pushing her sister gently back, Tatiana looked her in the eye. "Where is Lisa now?" she implored.

"We couldn't find her." Antonia sobbed. "The kids said she jumped out the window, but she didn't hit the ground. Oh god, my baby..." She shook uncontrollably as Tatiana stood up. "What are you doing, Tay?" she sniffed, watching her sister move to the door.

"I don't have time to explain, Toni." Tatiana said softly. "But I'm going to stop whatever's going on. I don't care who or what is behind this, going after me is one thing. But not my family." And with that, she was gone.

***

The sun was setting, causing strange shadows to stretch their fingers over the G.M. Logan Zoo. Morganna brushed past patrons on their way toward the gates on her way back to the hiding place she had spied earlier.

When she had teleported using the ring (thankfully, it was pure silver), she only had two choices of where to arrive; her body's home, or the zoo. The limitation on minor teleportation spells like that was that they required casual familiarity; something she hadn't had enough time to establish with many locations as of yet. Had it been in range of the spell, she supposed she could have returned to the mosque vault in Persia—Iraq she mentally corrected herself.

So she had returned to the zoo and spent her time familiarizing herself with the creatures it contained and scavenging possible reagents from trashcans and the gift shop. Shoplifting, as her new memory recalled it, was very easy when one simply pushed items into the Astral Plain and collected them later at one's leisure.

Mostly, she had thought about the creatures called psionics. As far as she could tell, they were humans; or at least born from humans. Each had a few extraordinary abilities that were akin to vulgar magic, but with more control behind it. They needed no foci, no words of power or patterns of sound; in fact, they didn't seem to require much conditioning or training to keep rudimentary control.

From a magical standpoint, they were an anomaly; the variety of unskilled hedge wizards, combined with the power of a fey and in many cases, the skill of an archmage. And yet, at least one was able to do something mages could not; he could call forth life.

Constructs, homunculi, and even conjured beasts weren't really alive; they were mystic simulacra made from inanimate matter and given a programmed semblance of life. Anything intimated about binding spirits and such were lies plain and simple. And yet Morganna had felt those metal bonds living and thinking. It warranted more study.

The trouble was that the psionics seemed resistant to all but the most minor mind control. She had tried to turn them against each other when she had fought them, but nothing had happened – it was as if the lines of force she rode to command minds were muted or even absent in them. She would only be able to control them if one allowed her to.

She slipped into the ape house, aware of the dozens of eyes watching her. Instinct told the orangutans and gorillas and chimpanzees that she wasn't a normal human. They could feel her power and they were afraid. Sneering at them, she made her way to the recessed cabinet in one wall where a trashcan was situated and casually forced the can into the Astral to make room for herself.

Hunkering down, she considered her position. Psionics were powerful and even if they were no match for her individually, she was still only one person. She would need allies in this world if she was going to play the part of mythic Prometheus, bringing the flame of magic back to the poor, stupid masses. But no one believed in magic any longer. They would not understand the gift of it unless forced or bargained into it.

She needed an ally who already understood and would aid her unquestioningly. As the lights in the ape house went down, an idea suddenly clicked in her head. Stifling a rueful laugh, she waited patiently for the staff to leave and her plan to commence.

End Issue #5

#

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#

#

# Issue #6: Myths and Heroes

## Mystic Spiral Part 2

##

##

## Myths and Heroes (Part 1)

Laurel's fingers flew over her keyboard. The glow of multiple monitors the only light illuminating her workshop. It had been six days since Lisa had disappeared and she had barely uncovered any scraps of information that were useful in any way.

The name Morganna, Morgan, Morgaine, or any other permutation of such that traditionally preceded 'le Fay' was a dead end. The Academy had never given that designation to any psionic or Enforcer agent in their database, nor was any prelate currently operating in North America using it as a handle.

The only modern connection to the name came in two separate headlines chronicling the discovery of a 12th century painting titled _Portrait of Morganna le Fay_ and its subsequent theft during Life Savers Inc's battle with the rogue psionic, Cinder. It was possible that Cinder had been working with a partner, but he had slipped police custody, leaving Laurel with just another dead end.

Lisa's erratic behavior and new power set hardly matched the modus operandi of an art thief. A small time art thief at that, considering the _Portrait_ was only valued at perhaps fifty thousand dollars; a far fall from its priceless status during the time of the Knights Templar. That meant that either Laurel was missing something or it was merely a coincidence.

She filed it in her 'maybe' pile along with that week's reports of mysterious animal disappearances at the Garfield Zoo and equally perplexing broad daylight thefts from plant nurseries and jewelry stores in the same time period. Given the seemingly random array of powers Lisa had reportedly manifested, Laurel couldn't put it past her.

The break came when Kareem had spoken to her on the night after Warrick came home from the hospital. Since his arrival at Freeland House, he had been primarily a creature on the Astral Plane; the world of mental energy adjacent to the Material Plane. Science hadn't even been aware of the place thirty years ago and as far as Laurel knew, Kareem was the only person to remain crossed over for more than twenty-four hours. He'd crushed the recorded record for astral projection by an order of magnitude.

His intimate and unprecedented connection to the plane was probably why he was the only one to notice what he termed the 'ripples' along the Astral.

As he explained it; most people touch the Astral when they have particularly vivid dreams. These contacts with the plane sent gentle ripples within a limited range akin to leaves landing on still water. He confided that even Melissa's emotion filled nightmares, or Cyn's occasional night terrors – while causing noticeable turbulence on the Astral – seldom affected anything further than the confines of the house.

The day of Lisa's disappearance, however, Kareem had felt something he described as being 'as if someone had thrown a piano in a swimming pool'. The ripples from that event had washed all the way to The Hills from somewhere in Mayfield and had been followed by numerous smaller, but just as uncharacteristically powerful pulses for days thereafter. His guess was that someone had crossed physically onto the Astral Plane and it worried him greatly.

Upon further analysis, Laurel had discovered that the devices she had built to allow Kareem to communicate via monitors and speakers were picking up some sort of interference. She had quickly repaired it, but suddenly realized that like radio waves, the special frequencies she used to connect Kareem with his communications devices could be traced.

To that end, she had sent every able bodied Freeland Houser out with almost a dozen hastily cobbled together transceivers to mount them to spots all over Mayfield. The main receiver was planted atop Freeland House and connected to Laurel's main processor.

For two days, she'd lain in wait for the Astral hopping to continue. Who ever had been doing it had slowed down since their original flurry of activity. What few disturbances that had occurred had been too small to properly triangulate. But Laurel had been patient, manning the monitor day and night with only the food her friends bought up to her and the caffeine she had hoarded in her mini-fridge to sustain her.

All she needed was a stronger signal and she would be able to at least get a location – a start to her so far fruitless investigation. Luckily for her, other forces were conspiring to ensure Laurel was about to get all the signal she needed.

***

In traditional fantasy, wizards made their lairs in lonely stone towers or the high parapets of castles. In the distant past, this was only rarely true; with most wizards living in the same huts and houses anyone else lived in. None were ever forced to take up residence in a tin roofed lean-to atop one of Mayfield's many multistoried buildings..

It was one of several erected by the local homeless in a feat of engineering prowess common to people forced to survive by their wits. A bit of rudimentary fire starting had managed to frighten all of the previous tenants away, leaving Morganna with the rooftop shanty town to herself.

Here, she stored her now vast library of 'collected' reagents; some living, some formerly living. Amid piles of what others would term 'junk', Morganna worked over a mortar and pestle, mumbling to herself.

"It'll be soon now, yes." She muttered, crushing fish bones into powder along with an assortment of dried leaves. "He's... he's... perfect. He needs to be perfect. I'll make him perfect. Magic... will make him perfect..."

Beside her, something thrashed in a tank of water. It was, in many ways, a large badger, but its tail was flattened and black, as were its paws. Its muzzle was leathery and looked more like a duck's bill than anything else. Morganna paused and regarded it for a bit.

"Platypus." She said after a long moment of trying to remember the right name for the creature. "Why did... I do that again?" She blinked at it. "Was there... why did I make something like that again?" something assured her that she had, in fact, not created the platypus; that it was a natural creature, but she knew that was absurd. With a few confused blinks, she went back to work on the charm she was making.

"When you were little, you hated platypuses." someone said.

Morganna's head came up so fast, it was a wonder her neck didn't snap. She focused, in her odd way of looking straight through a person, on the dark haired woman standing on top of the shelter across from her own.

Tatiana Farnsworth, Lady Nightshade, was dressed in a simple grey shirt with dark slacks and a backpack slung over one shoulder. "You thought they were scary." she continued, a wistful air in her voice. "Actually, pretty much all animals scared you," She laughed at a fond memory. "Toni was afraid she'd had to get rid of her parrot because you couldn't stand being alone in the room with it."

The intruder locked eyes with Morganna and jumped lightly to stand at the entrance of the dwelling. "As far as I know, you're still uncomfortable with animals." She continued. "And yet here you are, sitting in a tin shack with little cages full of newts and spiders and snakes..." She counted off the various captive animals as her eyes fell on them.

"Who...who... who are you?" Morganna muttered, sitting up on her haunches.

"It sounds like there's an owl here too." Lady Nightshade said, moving closer with animal grace. "As for who I am... I'm someone who's starting to put the pieces together. You know, in high school, Toni and I fancied ourselves witches—mostly burning pictures of old boyfriends with spices or trying to make potions to make us so smart we didn't need to study – but you get the picture." She crept even closer. "The point is, I think you're the real thing, or something like it. You messed with my head and made me mouth off to Liedecker – then you convinced me to give that painting to Lisa."

She unslung the backpack from her shoulder and opened the zipper. "What I don't understand is this: what the hell is the point of the painting?" She produced the painting, its colors slightly faded, but otherwise exactly as it appeared when she had stolen it. "I found it under Lisa's bed. What is it? Something out of Dorian Gray? A voodoo doll type deal to let you control my niece?"

"A trap." Morganna muttered. "Stole my soul and trapped it...trapped it forever – that's what they hoped." She crouched, shivering like a feral cat caught between the want to strike out and the want to flee. "But I got out... fought my way out. You... you're one of them. I couldn't use you, but your... niece... she was good."

"One of them what?" Nightshade growled, fighting to keep her rage down. She wanted nothing more than to kill Morganna, but until she found out what effect that would have on Lisa, she couldn't risk it.

"Psionic. I couldn't take you, because... because you're a psionic." Morganna muttered. "You're different – wrong. I can't use you unless invited."

Nightshade blinked. "You're inside Lisa then. Possessing her like a demon?"

Harsh laughter answered her. "There's no... no such thing as demons." She grinned manically. "I'm not in her. No, she's inside me, pressed down. She's quiet now." She started laughing at the thought.

Nightshade's teeth ground. She didn't know how to save her niece, but the first step was to stop the monster inside her. "You—you ARE a demon!" She shouted, lunging at her.

Still laughing, Morganna reached into a felt pouch nearby and drew out a plastic cup in which a handful of crude darts had been pushed into a soaked wad of cotton. She suddenly remembered why she had taken the platypus.

Before Nightshade reached her, Morganna flicked one of the darts at her, hitting her in her right bicep. A few motes of enhancing magic empowered the poison, speeding its course through Nightshade's bloodstream. Convulsing, Tatiana collapsed on the concrete roof, overturning a few stray potted plants as she did.

"They're poisonous." Morganna said standing and moving over to Nightshade's side. Something in the back of her mind felt bad seeing her like that. "Platypus. They have venom. Imagine that... a vermin that's poisonous." She crouched down, watching Tatiana struggling against the blinding pain that now took over her body. "You care about this body... its old soul?" She noted. "Why?"

"S-she's my niece." Nightshade hissed through the pain. "M-my family."

"I had... family. A son. They took him... before they trapped me... trapped me in the painting." Morganna said without emotion. "Now... now, I think your niece... yes, she can have what I couldn't... give my lovely Mordred." She started to stand but Nightshade grabbed her shirt.

"Wait!" She gasped at the sorceress. "P-please. Let her go!"

Morganna grabbed the offending hand and considered using the contact to make the poison more painful, then giggled. "I need... need a body so I can live, no?" Love and pain were a perfect combination to not only break down mental defenses, but to convince people to submit to anything.

Tatiana didn't even pause to think about it. "Take me." She breathed. "I... I'm the one you wanted in the first place. I-I'm the one with powers. They're all yours – just let Lisa go." The tears in her eyes weren't from the incapacitating pain any longer.

The sorceress smiled. Crouching closer to her writhing victim, she twisted Antonia's silver ring from her finger and placed it on Tatiana's finger. "I accept." She said before starting a low, haunting chant. One hand reached out and grabbed a handful of leaves and dropped them over Tatiana's face.

Immediately, the pain eased, though fighting was no longer an option for Lady Nightshade. "Lisa..." she whispered as Morganna pressed some kind of gemstone to her forehead, "If you can hear me... take care of your mother and Zack." Then perception collapsed upon itself.

***

Running her hands through her slightly shorter new hair, Morganna frowned at her clothes. She much preferred the girl, Lisa's wardrobe. That thought made her eye stray to her former vessel, lying on her back, breathing shallowly. In some ways, she missed it already.

"Still..." she muttered, picking up Nightshade's backpack, "this one is... better. Faster. More agile and... the power..." She looked down at the painting that had been her prison for the past several centuries. With her anger, she felt a new sensation – the psionic power innate in her new body. It tingled in her fingers, almost begging to be used. It felt like no magic she'd ever felt before.

Flicking her hand at the painting, she was delighted to feel lines of force suddenly pull taunt between it and herself. It fell in two halves, bisected with surgical precision. Laughing, she flicked her power at a rose plant she had acquired, removing all the leaves along its left side. Another flick aimed at one of the tin buildings outside. There was a rending sound and a few inches of tin pealed back under the assault.

She frowned at this. There was a limit to this power; both in range and how much damage it could actually inflict on a target. Still, a spell that precise would take an hour of preparation and a small diamond, so she couldn't argue with the ease of use.

After a few more moments of throwing her new power around, she remembered that she had something to do this night. Grabbing Nightshade's backpack, she began shoving reagents that might be useful into it. As she did, she giggled in anticipation – a quick sifting of Nightshade's memory revealed that her new body owned one of those wondrous machines – a motorcycle – and had parked it a block from where she stood.

***

Laurel popped open another can of cola and blinked sleep from her eyes. She'd gone almost three days without sleep. Truth be told, she had gone much longer without it on occasion, but this time was important, she needed to be alert in case –

One of her monitors flashed red. All of the transceivers were responding to something BIG. One had even overloaded and fallen silent. A few keystrokes brought up the numbers the transceivers sent her. Laurel did her own triangulation – she was more accurate than the computer.

Within seconds, she had her cell phone open, dialing Ian's room phone. "Ian," She said before he could properly answer her. "Wake Alexis up and come to my workshop. I just got a huge hit coming from the 1300 block of Coltrane Avenue. I need to get you guys suited up and out the door ASAP.

##

##

## Myths and Heroes (Part 2)

Alexis quirked an eyebrow as she held up the items Laurel had handed her. "This isn't a tactical suit, it's a costume." She regarded the formfitting bodysuit with a skeptical eye. It was mostly black with silver filigree and a silver belt. A black silk scarf was draped over the shoulders and fastened there with uncharacteristically bulky, rectangular fasteners. The shoes and gloves at least seemed practical; streamlined affairs that closed with zippers and had rugged mountain climbing treads. "Plus, I thought you said these would be armored."

"They're stylized because we don't know where you're going to end up having to go and we want any security or law enforcement to be thinking 'prelate' instead of 'burglar'." Laurel explained. "Oh, and it is armored." She waved her hand at the outfit in a vague sort of way. "They're made from an old Brant Industries prototype fabric – ballistic cloth. It's made up of carbon nanotubes and specialized ceramics. Basically, it's bulletproof, knife proof and heat resistant to an extent."

"Why do I get the feeling that you had these made long before this whole Lisa Ortega issue came up?" Ian asked. His own body suit was dark red with diagonal black stripes along the rib cage. The shoulders were padded, as were the wrists of the gloves. A ceramic face mask and visor made up the headpiece.

"Because I did." Laurel shrugged. "I started putting these together about a week after you helped the Kin. I figured that it was only a matter of time before we'd have to escalate things with the Academy if we want to help all the other kids they've captured."

"You thought we'd start taking the fight to them as prelates?" Ian asked.

Laurel nodded. "I've considered all the options and it really is our best hope of stopping what's happening. Prelates have a lot of public backing right now and seeing a few of them fighting against the Academy may be enough leverage to put some political pressure on them." She chewed her lip. "But that was then and this is now. And right now, dealing with this Morganna situation is top priority."

Alexis frowned at her. "That's a last – and I mean _last_ resort, Laurel. I'm not kidding. As much as I want to save everyone, we can't risk the kids we've already saved by going public and playing prelate."

The psionic genius gave her friend a reassuring smile. "There'll be plenty of time to discuss that after you get back from this. Now, get suited up – and don't forget your cowl. Hair as long as yours runs the risk of getting caught in things unless you put it up."

"Then why did you give me a long scarf?"

"Because it's not just a scarf – it's another Brant Industries abandoned project – the omni-rope. If you take it off and depress the button on the left fastener a high frequency electrical current hardens it into a bō staff. I trust that semester of bōjutsu classes hasn't been lost on you?" Alexis nodded, perplexed. "Anyway, the right fastener sends an ultra low frequency current that increases it's elasticity by a factor of ten – the perfect rope."

"Just out of curiosity," Ian asked, "And I just know I'm going to regret this... but why were two stupidly useful inventions like those abandoned?"

"Money." Laurel shrugged. "Apparently, the lives of law enforcement officials, firefighters and soldiers weren't worth over a hundred thousand dollars per unit."

"Jeez," Ian remarked, "I kind of hoped that if I ever had an expensive suit, I'd be able to at least wear it someplace nice."

"Well, right now, someplace nice is going to have to be Coltrane Avenue or the Garfield Zoo." Laurel said.

"The zoo? When did that happen?" Alexis asked.

"A minute before you two got here. She must be up to something again."

"So which one do we go to?" Ian asked.

"We split up." Alexis said after a moment's thought. "Ian, take Laurel's SUV to the zoo, I'll take my car and head into town. We can't risk losing her trail again."

***

Morganna pressed her hand against hot steel, a simple spell protecting her from being burned. With deft movements of her fingertips, she traced patterns down the length of the orange glowing steel shaft; they glowed white.

"Yes... striking from afar. That is... is how humans in this world fight – how this body fights. He will have to fight this way too." Morganna mumbled as she quenched the spell wrought metal in the zoo's ornamental fountain. Steam rose into the night.

When she raised it again, the eight foot length of the heavy lance dwarfed her easily. The only way she managed to hold it at all was due to some long term charms she had lain over her new body's muscles.

Hefting the weapon, she took twenty paces from the fountain and turned back toward it. With impossible agility, she leveled the lance at it. "Strike!" She commanded, thrusting the lance. A sound like rushing steam gurgled from the lance and a blur of motion raced out from it and into the head of the fountain. Cement and lead piping cracked and exploded into a cloud of dust. Water burst upward in a torrent to rain down in an uneven circle.

"Perfect." She said quietly as the impromptu rain plastered her hair to her face. "The lance is ready... my knight is ready... now he only needs a steed..."

***

Across town, a natural rain was beginning to fall. Alexis hit the switch to bring up the top on her convertible. Laurel had pointed out that such a large group needed two cars and had taken money from whatever funds she had hidden away and given it to Alexis to buy one. Her only stipulation was that Alexis wasn't allowed to buy anything practical.

Despite Laurel basically forcing her into it, Alexis felt guilty for spending so much money on her brand new, midnight black convertible. Somewhere along the process, Laurel had changed some of the specifications; adding gold rims, a top of the line stereo system and an onboard computer that all but doubled as an auto-pilot. Once upon a time, that would have been her dream car. And even now, she had to admit that she felt a little giddy when she got up to speed with the top down.

At the moment though, she was barely creeping along the city streets, her eye on the computer display screen as Laurel sent more precise directions to the point of the astral breech. Her headlights played across the brick wall of an old theater as she turned onto Coltrane Avenue.

Suddenly, a figure lurched into view, waving its arms and shouting at her to stop. Alexis recognized Lisa from the girl's countless visits to Freeland House. She put the car to a squealing halt and threw open her door. She didn't have time to pull the cowl over her face first.

Lisa's face lit up when she saw Alexis. "Ms. Keyes, thank God! I didn't know how I was going to get home, and Aunt Tay needs help, quick!" She rushed over and hugged the older woman before Alexis could react.

Alexis took a step back and held Lisa back at arm's distance. "Lisa? Is this really you... though if you weren't I don't expect the truth."

Lisa nodded fiercely. "Yes, it's me. I know what happened to Warrick and what she tried to do to Kay and everyone else – it was like I was doing it all myself– but please, you have to listen! She's still out there and she's got my Aunt Tay."

"Slow down." Alexis tried to remain calm, but something in her mind told her things were more dangerous than she realized. "Who is it that's still out there?"

"Morganna." She said, looking Alexis in the eye in an effort to show her she wasn't crazy. "I know what you're thinking, but I didn't make her up – she's real and she's not like a regular person. She was like this _thing_ that got into my head while I was dreaming." She shook her head. "No, that's not what I meant. I'm not crazy. I feel like I'm going to be, but I'm not. She was in my head, and I could see her memories. She's from like a thousand years ago!"

Alexis put an arm around the panicking girl, trying to calm her down. "I believe you, okay?" she said without much commitment behind the words. "I'm here to stop her. Now where is she?"

Tears streamed down Lisa's face. "Aunt Tay traded her head for mine. She let Morganna in so she'd leave me alone." She leaned into Alexis and shivered. "She's going to make her do horrible things now. She wants to make everyone believe in magic again, even if she has to kill a bunch of people. And she wants to..." she choked and held on to Alexis tighter. "She's going to do experiments o-on psionics. People like Warrick and Kay."

Alexis tried to school her face to hide her shock. Lisa's concern was genuine and she didn't seem to be mentally disturbed, which left only one option; someone really was out there using real magic with an axe to grind against psionics. "Lisa," she said softly, "look at me, okay?" Through tear filled eyes, the girl did as instructed. Alexis tried to look far more serene than she actually was. "I'm going to stop Morganna, but I need to know where she is."

"The zoo. S-she's making something there, a weapon, I think. I didn't understand most of the things involved."

"Ian's already there." Alexis noted, "Get in the car; I need to take you home."

Lisa's eyes bulged with sudden concern. "No." She said, "He'll need you. We need to get there now– or he'll die."

***

Morganna stood on the rim of the ruined fountain, her head bowed, and a psychotic grin on her face. Rain and the spray from the fountain made her hair hang down in a heavy curtain over her face. The backpack, now almost empty sat open at her feet. "I... knew one of you would come looking for me." She said loudly.

Ian stopped in his tracks. He had been trying to sneak around the aviary to get the drop on the lone figure. "You're not Lisa." He said, judging simply from the voice because the falling water made it impossible to see her clearly at that distance.

"I wasn't even when I was." She replied. "And... and now you're here to try and... and stop me. You... things... you psionics. You just want to repress real power. Magic."

"I'm just here to stop an innocent girl from ruining her life." Ian said coolly, stepping out into the open. His feet splashed in the quickly forming puddles on the brick walkway. "I don't know who the hell you are, but just let her come out and you can go back to boiling some ex-boyfriend's bunny rabbit or something, okay?"

Morganna sneered behind her hair. "You don't believe, do you? Even now that I've changed bodies? Even after... after all you've known me to do?"

"This whole magic thing that's got some of my friends on edge? I'd really like to – and hell, I went to school with kids who did a hell of a lot more than pulling rabbits out of their ears – but it's a lot to swallow that a sixteen year old girl suddenly takes an interest in the Matter of Britain and parlays it into phenomenal cosmic power." Ian stopped some sixty feet from where she stood. The lamps lining the walkway reflected off his visor.

"The legend is true." Morganna snarled. "Arthur the bear-man was real." She straightened up, her dark eyes glittered with an almost alien light. "I cannot understand why you people are so... so stubborn. You live in a world where unicorns are real." She mentally snapped the last measure of a spell in place, setting bestial fury loose and directing it toward Ian.

"What the hell? Unicorn—? "Ian was interrupted by a fearsome bellow from beyond a rock wall to his right. Before he could think about what had made the noise, the wall tumbled down, sending rocks clattering over the walkway. Rough gray skin rippled over massive muscles and three toed feet hammered the ground as something huge surged toward him.

Acting quickly Ian pushed his powers to the maximum. The wind howled as it catapulted him up and back away from whatever was charging him and leaving him to cling to the mesh wire dome of the aviary.

From that vantage point, he saw his assailant clearly. The monster looked like a rhinoceros; thick, hairless skin, prominent horn, and bulky body. But it was... wrong somehow. The horn was at least three feet long and so smooth that it looked lacquered; the secondary horn characteristic of white rhinos was missing entirely. Its skin was noticeably thicker, almost rigid except on the legs and joints, making it look more like it was wearing leather armor rather than simply thick skin. Its legs were noticeably longer, which accounted for its uncanny speed. Most disturbing were its eyes; they were much larger and shone with a feral, malevolent intelligence.

"That's your unicorn?!" Ian shouted. "Excuse me if I don't expect any fourteen year old girls fawning over this guy and wanting to brush his hair."

"It seems you people discovered, then killed off—slaughtered all of their kind with only one horn." Morganna retorted coldly. "So I had to make... fix this one. So it was proper. One horn." She added, more to herself than to Ian. "And now I've made it want to kill you."

"Great." Ian said, trying to shinny further up the aviary dome. "You transmogrified a rhino into a unicorn from hell. You know, I'm starting to believe you might be for real about this magic stuff – how about you call him off and you can teach me how to cast Magic Missile?" He watched as the monster paced below the dome, waiting for him. Every once in a while, it glared up at him with its unearthly eyes.

"It is far too late... too late for you." Morganna said in a sing song voice. "Psionics are... strange. I need to test them. Learn more. But.. but... but it doesn't matter if you're alive or dead for me to test you." She added the last part with a sort of happy indifference.

"In case you haven't noticed, Lady M," Ian said, summoning all his courage in the hopes of forcing the madwoman into making a mistake that would allow him to escape, "Rover down there can't climb up to get me."

Morganna laughed an eerie cackle that made Ian wonder if he wasn't better off dealing with the mutant rhinoceros. "My unicorn... it's only a gift. Something he needs. A unicorn is just a mount. A white charger for my chosen. My knight."

Ian realized that she wasn't looking up at him. She was looking above him – he followed her gaze.

Morganna's knight was the end result of an orangutan having been twisted by mystic forces. It stood around six feet tall on legs too long to belong to any natural creature of its species. Its face looked like it had been pushed in and pinched, giving it a more human appearance. A thick, leather loin cloth has been wrapped around its waist, but its chest was bare, showing scrawls of Celtic script etching into its chest in a rough circle above the sternum. Upon its brow rested three azure gemstones which glowed dimly in the night.

It wielded an eight foot lance in one hand as if it had been born with it there and wore a fetish of leather scraps and dried berries encircling a blood colored carnelian around it's neck. Most impressively, it stood on the curved aviary dome with as much ease as any man could stand on terra firma.

"Your knight?!" Ian exclaimed, suddenly caught between a rock and a murderous rhinoceros. He shifted his grip and rolled over on the dome so he was now on his belly. "What the hell?"

"Instilled with the intellect of a man, and the honor of a soldier with the Rites of the Open Eye." Morganna said her voice more clear than it had ever been. When it came to magic, she never needed to fumble for words. "He is my loyal knight, bound by blood to destroy my enemies."

The hulking figure hefted its weapon and spoke in a rough, ancient voice. "My Lady has named me Lucian after the emperor of Rome. She has given me the title of Ape Knight. By her order, psionic creature, I will slay you."

##

##

## Myths and Heroes (Part 3)

"I know what she plans to do. Its like I remember planning it myself." Lisa said, watching downtown Mayfield speed past the passenger window. All the lights between Alexis's car and the Garfield Zoo were green thanks to Laurel commandeering the local transit grid. "But it sounds crazy..."

"Lisa, a lot of things sound crazy right now." Alexis said gently. "If I'm following what you've told me so far; you just discovered some of your friends have psionic powers they've had to keep secret, you were possessed by an insane person who thinks she's a cast member from the Arthurian Legend, and you just witnessed your aunt lain low by platypus poison. I'm willing to put all my bets on crazy right now."

Lisa glanced at Alexis in the darkened car. She certainly looked genuine in her belief. "I said before that she wanted to force everyone to accept magic again...but as to how..." she sighed, "She thinks all psionics are part of some huge conspiracy against magic and she wants to take the fight to them first – as well as learn how to take their powers for herself."

"Can she steal their powers?" Alexis's eyes were intent on the road.

0

"No." Lisa shook her head. "She can take magic powers – she remembers doing it at least, but psionics give her trouble. She can't take their powers and her mind affecting spells don't work on them."

"That's a comfort." The older woman said.

"Not much of one. She's got a lot more tricks than mind control. That's why we need to help Mr. Smythe. She'll have finished making her new knight by now and from what she's been thinking... it's going to be really powerful."

"What do you mean 'making her new knight'?" Alexis said, chancing a glance at Lisa. "This Morganna's not the only thing we have to worry about? What's this knight supposed to do?"

Lisa shook her head. "She knows this spell... the rites of some eye? I don't remember that very clearly, but it's like serious forbidden magic that can turn people into some kind of super-buff, super-smart version of themselves. She's planning to use it on a monkey or something at the zoo, and then give him a magic weapon and set him loose."

Alexis found it very hard to concentrate on the road now. "Wait, what?"

"I'm serious." Lisa said sternly. "This thing she's making... it's going to be as smart and self aware as a human, but about thirty times as strong, able to heal wounds in a fraction of the time and with the other spells she plans to put on it, totally obedient to her."

"That sounds like a tall order to pull out in the two hours it took between when this started and now." Alexis said.

"It wouldn't be that hard now." Lisa said in a small voice. "with no other spellcasters to stop her, she can afford to cut corners."

After that, they rode in silence before the zoo gates finally came into view. "Lisa, I want you to stay here, out of danger okay?" Alexis finally said, parking directly next to the wall."

"But I'm the only one she doesn't want to kill!" Lisa said. "Maybe I can help. I mean I do remember a few things."

"Absolutely not." Alexis cut her off. "I've already had my fill of hospitals for the month and Ian may already be hurt." She pulled up her cowl and got out of the car, looking up at the wall. With a slight thought, she encased herself in black heat and cut her bond with the ground.

Lisa was left watching her disappear into the night, mouth gaping with amazement.

***

Ian's eyes met those of Lucian as he gripped the mesh aviary dome with all his might. Lucian stared right back at him. His eyes were intelligent, but bore no malice as he lowered his lance. "Be still, and you will feel no pain." The ape-man's deep voice rumbled.

Gritting his teeth, Ian threw himself backward even as a pulse of invisible force shredded the wire he'd been holding on to. Concentrating, he compressed air into a cylinder below him. With no small effort, he backstroked in the liquid air until he found himself on the roof of the reptile house.

"Well met." Lucian regarded Ian with what could only be respect. "But you cannot win. Strike!" He thrust the lance and another bolt of power raced toward Ian. It hit the roof at his feet, sending up a cloud of tar and gravel. Using the momentary distraction, Lucian ran down the side of the aviary and leapt the distance to the reptile house.

Ian saw him coming and directed his power into water that had accumulated on the roof, condensing it into a thin, slick sheet in Lucian's landing path, causing him to sprawl and roll along the roof instead of landing softly.

Using his lance to help himself up, Lucian glared at Ian. "My Lady was correct. Psionics fight without honor."

"I'm not the one with the shotgun lance." Ian retorted, pulsing the wind to smash open the roof access to the reptile house.

"My weapon was given to me by my Lady." Lucian growled. "As was my steed, Embarr, who will crush your bones if you try to flee your fate by ground."

"I've got a question," Ian said, edging toward the roof access. "Have you been paying attention? Morganna's a lot of things, but a Lady she's not."

Rage played on Lucian's features. "You will hold your tongue, psionic. You have no grounds to question one of nobility such as my Lady." He pointed the lance. "Strike!" Ian was ready this time and solidified the falling rain into a shield that ate the incoming force before it reached him.

"No, seriously. Lucian, right?" Ian asked, breathing a bit heavier from the workout his powers were getting. Morganna's knight nodded at the sound of his name, but remained on guard. "Lucian, do you even know what 'noble' and 'Lady' mean aside from Morganna telling you that's what she was?"

Lucian faltered, furrowing his brow. "I... do not." His grip on the lance grew unsteady as he mulled over the question. Then the fetish around his neck grew warm and his zeal redoubled. "But it matters not. She is my liege and I will serve her by destroying psionics such as you."

"Shit!" Ian dove for the cover of the stairs. The strike tore the top step apart as Ian rode a slide of congealed air down to the next landing. He rolled to his feet at the bottom and pushed on the door. Locked. He looked up to see Lucian's shadow darkening the only other way out.

"Some of the psionics she wants to kill are kids, Lucian." Ian said, trying to find the soft spot for logic the ape knight had shown previously. "Kids who only want to do good with the powers they've been born with. You want to kill them too?"

The fetish almost burned Lucian's skin as his sensibilities warred with each other. "What I want is of no consequence." He finally said. "My Lady decrees that you must all die. Strike!" The power roared down the confined space and there was nowhere for Ian to go. He caught the bulk of the burst in his stomach and was hurled through the door and out onto the tiled floor of the main exhibit room of the reptile house.

***

Gasping for breath, Ian was shocked to learn that he was still alive. His stomach and chest hurt and would certainly bruise, but Laurel's miracle cloth has managed to save him from being decapitated by the explosive force of Lucian's weapon.

Sitting up, Ian shivered. At any other time, the sight of so many snakes in one place would have been enough to send chills down his spine. But the addition of Lucian standing at the end of the row in the ruins of the doorframe Ian had been blown through was enough to turn his blood to ice.

Lucian also shivered. For him it was a purely hereditary aversion to serpents. "I see you do not like this battleground anymore than I do." He said, displaying the purely human tendency to engage in inane chatter when frightened. "Let us finish this quickly then."

A bit unsteady, Ian stood. "Ophidiophobia." He said breathlessly. "That's what they call fear of snakes in psych class." His voice quavered as he committed himself to his next strategy.

"I am not afraid." Lucian's teeth ground with irritation and his grip redoubled on the haft of his lance.

"There's no shame in it." Ian continued, eyeing the weapon nervously. He wouldn't get a second chance at this. "Hell, I'm afraid of them myself. They're all slithery and... jeez, those tongues? They creep me out completely."

"It is normal to have such fears?" Lucian cocked his head to the side inquisitively.

"Yeah." Ian nodded. "The only real cure for it is to face your fears head on."

"How would one accomplish that?" the ape knight cast a wary glance at a tank containing a boa constrictor.

"Well, let's see if being covered in them helps." Ian surged his power, blowing out the glass in all the tanks around Lucian in one violent gust of wind and sound. Dozens of snake specimens were violently forced out into the aisle and consequently onto Lucian.

Roaring in a mixture of surprise, confusion and primal fear, Lucian swung the lance wildly and stumbled away from the hail of reptiles. Ian took the opportunity to make a break for the exit.

Hurrying down the stairs, Ian took a second to let the rain wash away the disconcerting, slimy feeling he always felt when he was exposed to snakes of any sort. The cool flow did little to calm his nerves after the last week, which had culminated in this; the most bizarre ten minutes of his life. Talking primates wielding medieval hardware, psychotic sorceresses, and monster rhinos from hell— Crap. He thought and looked down the pathway leading back to the fountain. Embarr, the aforementioned rhinoceros stood at the top of the path with Morganna standing beside it.

Before Ian could react, Morganna flicked her wrist toward him. The force felt like a shotgun blast, even through the ballistic cloth, some of which cracked and pealed away under the onslaught. It was strong enough to spin him a total 180 before he hit the ground, his arm throbbing.

In his shocked state, he saw the supposedly bulletproof and knife-proof cloth separate at the seams along a neat line about six inches down his arm. The skin beneath it was red and welted. Wincing in pain, he came up to a knee. He had no intention of just lying down and being trampled.

"That... was... was supposed to cut your arm off. Is that one of... your powers?" Morganna mused. "We'll see." She pointed at him and Embarr charged.

"Ian!" came a shout that cut in over the monster's roars and the pouring rain. Alexis dropped out of the sky, her black heat causing the rain to billow out from her in a cloak of steam. She skimmed the ground and tackled him just under the arms, driving the air from his lungs, but also lifting him into the air.

When they were flying away at a safe height, cloaked from Morganna by rain and steam, She shifted her hold on him. "Sorry for the rough rescue, but it looked like there wasn't a lot of time." She landed them on the roof of another building, between two rows of air conditioners.

"I'm not complaining." Ian groaned, leaning on one of the machines. "Though I am starting to think there may be something to Cyn and Laurel's magic theory."

Alexis nodded. "Me too. Believe it or not, I came here expecting a mystic monkey – but not a mutant rhino."

Ian gave her an incredulous look. "Oh, the Ape Knight's around here somewhere. He's gotten about this close to killing me a couple times. I shit you not, that thing that was about to squash me is his horse."

"I really wish I could be as shocked as I probably should." The raven haired woman said, "But I can top that. The woman that's leading them? She's Lisa's aunt Tatiana – or more accurately, its a thousand year old spell slinger possessing her body. She's hell bent on killing off psionics so magic can be supreme."

"Okay, I was having enough trouble with the lance wielding, honor bound orangutan." Ian pulled his visor up and rubbed his eyes. "Where did you hear all this?"

"Lisa." Alexis replied. "Her aunt struck a deal with this Morganna person to let Lisa go free."

"Lisa? Where is she? She remembers everything? Even—"

"She's in the car." Alexis interrupted, "she insisted we come here to help you. And yes, she remembers all of it but right now, we have to deal with Morganna or that won't even matter."

"She was right to worry." Ian nodded, "Lucian – the Ape Knight, he's not just strong and fast, he's got this pike that fires some kind of force bolt." He replaced his visor and clenched his fists, "What's more, I think he may be an innocent in all this."

"Didn't you just say he almost killed you?"

"Yeah, but... I don't think he wants to – or even understands what's going on here. Whatever Morganna did that turned him all smart and super-powered, she's also got a strangle hold on his free will. More than once, I've seen him almost resist whatever she's got on him.

"Do you think there's a chance to undo it though?" Alexis asked, "Because if there isn't he's eventually going to kill us both."

"The only thing I can think of is knocking Morganna out. Which, if what Lisa told you is correct, involves roughing her aunt up." Ian sighed. "Damned if you do, damned if you don't. By comparison, taking on Enforcers sounds refreshing right about now."

***

Lisa shivered as she moved cautiously between the reptile house and a rest area equipped with picnic tables. Something like a taunt string in her mind drew her ever forward through the pouring rain. She knew Morganna was out there somewhere. She could almost taste the sorceress's malevolent magic.

A dark shape loomed up before her and the transmutated rhino, Embarr ambled past, it's attention so bent on whatever orders Morganna had given it that it didn't even notice her. Still, Lisa shook with fear watching the thing rumble past. The danger of it spotting her and impaling her on its horn wasn't the thing that bothered her most. She was terrified to realize that the creature matched the mental image of Morganna's expectations for the thing almost exactly.

The creaking of hinges drew her attention and Lisa looked across the brick walk to see Morganna and her Ape Knight entering the arctic animal exhibition hall. Taking a deep breath, she summoned all of her frayed courage and stole quietly after them.

##

##

## Myths and Heroes (Part 4)

Several heavy blows landed solidly against the door leading onto the roof of the Garfield zoo's artic animal hall to no avail. After a few, short moments of this treatment, there was a pause, after which the door separated into four, even pieces and collapsed into the stairwell.

Morganna stepped into the breech, her finger still extended and her acquired psionic power at the ready. Lucian stood behind her, his lance at the ready. Syrupy thick water squelched and flowed over the pieces of the door at their feet.

"Such strange powers." Morganna noted, surveying the rooftop. It was empty except for the double rows of powerful air conditioners that occupied it. "I have... never... never seen magic do such a thing to water."

Lucian scanned the roof as well. "Have they left this place, milady?"

Morganna shook her head. "No... no, they're still here somewhere. I feel them... their power..." She took a tentative step out into the rain. The thickened water collapsed into normal density under her feet. "Can you smell them?"

"The rain washes most scents away, milady." Lucian admitted, lowering his head in shame. Through his bushy brows, he redoubled his efforts to see through the curtain of water before him. At the same time, he breathed deeply, hoping to get some sensory information from the poor environment.

The pair ventured cautiously out onto the roof, watching their surroundings carefully.

"They have to be here." Morganna muttered petulantly. "I... I want them. They're mine." Her head snapped around as the crunch of gravel caught her attention. Lucian whirled around as well. The sound had come from behind them.

The air rippled like the shimmer of heat on a summer day. Then it waxed into blackness that then retreated to reveal Ian and Alexis standing side by side. Alexis's eyes were the last thing to come back into view, as if the retreating blackness was flowing into them. For a second, they were voids in her head that disturbed even Morganna's already fractured mind.

"No, Morganna." Ian said. With some obvious exertion, he was holding a glass sphere the size of his fist with both hands. "We're not yours and neither are Lucian and Tatiana Farnsworth. That's why we're setting them free."

"Even if it means having to knock them out first." Alexis added, a new wave of black heat rising to encircle her arms.

Before their enemies could respond, Ian threw the sphere underhanded between them. Only then did Morganna note the similarities between the congealed water that sealed the door shut and the 'glass' globe. In the space of an instant, ten gallons of rainwater underwent a density shift that took it from the size of a fist to a gaseous cloud six feet in diameter. The corresponding force slammed into Morganna and Lucian.

Roaring in surprise, the Ape Knight planted his lance in the rooftop, spearing it through gravel and tar into cement. He held on as tightly as his enhanced strength allowed and weathered the explosion like the warrior Morganna had made him into.

Morganna on the other hand only had time to utter a spell of vulgar magic as she was pounded into one of the air conditioners, leaving a deep dent. The machine made a terrible squeal of metal being tortured and fell silent, a plume of acrid smoke testament to its demise.

Despite what should have been a knockout blow, Morganna was the first to retaliate. Emitting a long, wordless scream, she rose to her feet, murder in her eyes. With deft strokes of her hand, she sent lash after lash of Lady Nightshade's psionic power at the pair that dared to deny her what she desired.

Ian dove behind an air conditioner while Alexis took to the air, steam and black billowing after her.

Blinded by rage, Morganna continued to send invisible cuts into the air. Mortar began to erupt from the stairwell access and sparks flew from the air conditioners and other rooftop paraphernalia.

The barrage of attacks went on for several seconds before the toll of summoning them up began to fatigue her. She had never imagined that psionic powers were taxing to the individual. She took her frustration out on Lucian. "Useless thing!" She bellowed. "Kill them... break their bones!"

Hesitating for a fraction of a second, Lucian bought the lance up. "Strike!" He rumbled. His aim went wide as Alexis evaded. When she had righted herself, she paused in air and bought her arms in tight around her chest.

Motes of black heat began spinning off from her, shooting off in random arcs that began to drive down on the rooftop as heavy as any rain. They were too small and too weak to do any lasting damage, but they were painful and they fell in an inky sleet down upon Morganna and Lucian.

His aim now thrown off by the myriad, tiny stings of Alexis's attack, Lucian took a knee to steady his shot. "Strike!" He hissed, feeling one of the burning motes of black heat land on his tongue.

Alexis was nimble enough to dodge, but she wasn't ready for Morganna's renewed frenzy. Her ballistic cloth shredded across her stomach, absorbing the brunt of the damage, but what was left over was a painful gash akin to a ten inch long paper cut. The sudden pain broke her concentration, causing her black heat to fail and she fell.

The wind kicked up, whipped to hurricane forces that made the rain sting the eyes as Ian called a column of air into being below Alexis. It broke her fall just barely. She still landed hard enough on the previously destroyed air conditioner to leave a sizable dent.

"You hear what she called you? Ian shouted at Lucian over the wind. "A useless thing. You really think she gives half a damn about whether you live or die as long as you serve her purpose? You're nothing but a tool to her, Lucian!"

The Ape Knight narrowed his eyes. Being used was demeaning; he knew that much from the vast amount of unsorted information Morganna had instilled in him from Tatiana Farnsworth's mind. Being used was something that shouldn't happen to anyone. At least to any human. His own memories from before his transformation made him realize that humans were perfectly fine using animals for entertainment. Of course, Lucian was no longer an animal. He didn't know what he was anymore, but an animal he was not.

The fetish around his neck grew heavy and hot. He set his jaw. "It does not matter what she wishes of me. I am a knight and I must carry out my duty." He said, stalking toward Ian.

Meanwhile, Morganna had leapt atop the air conditioner where Alexis had landed. She crouched over the fallen woman, her expression that of a child on Christmas Day. "Yes... now, you are mine." She muttered. She reached down and touched one of the beads of blood that had welled up on the thin cut she had inflicted. "You are... very strong... very resilient." She rubbed the blood between her fingertips. "Impressive."

Alexis looked up at her through heavy lidded eyes. Very slowly, she lifted an arm.

"Please don't... don't fight." Morganna chided. "You are so much more valuable to me alive."

"Not fighting." Alexis breathed, placing her hand on her left shoulder.

"Good... good..." Morganna mumbled, still fascinated with the blood. She cocked her head to the side when she heard a quiet beep.

Exactly as Laurel had described, the scarf straightened into a bō staff. Specifically, it straightened into one in the space between the air conditioner and Morganna's jaw. The blow made her teeth clack together and her mind spin. Before her sense (or what passed as her sense) returned to her, Alexis planted a foot in her abdomen. Ignoring the pain from her wound, Alexis extended her leg and pressed her shoulders against the air conditioner.

Morganna yelped as she overbalanced and tumbled backward, hitting her head hard on the neighboring air conditioner on her way down. She lay still thereafter.

***

A thin cloud of mortar dust still hung in the stairwell as Lisa made her way to the roof. The top landing looked like a war zone with pieces of broken door and chunks of cement strewn everywhere. Still, Lisa pressed forward onto the roof.

The wind lashed at her, causing her clothes to billow out around her and reminding her that she was certainly not dressed to be on a roof in the rain. Then again, she was sure she also wasn't dressed or prepared to fight sorceresses and transmutated orangutans.

Light from the walkway below reflected off the length of Lucian's lance and she froze. It was pointed at her.

"Are you another psionic come to assault my lady?" the towering creature demanded with a deep, rumbling voice.

Shivering, Lisa put up her hands defensively. Whatever words she might have said in the situation caught in her throat. Silently, part of her screamed for an explanation as to why she hadn't stayed in the car.

"Leave her alone, Lucian. She's just a kid." Ian stepped out from behind the air conditioner he'd been using as cover. "Leave her alone."

"Explain why she is here then." Lucian said, his weapon still trained on her. "You have fought without honor before." Something in the back of his mind questioned if he was really willing to strike at the girl. The psionic was right after all, she was just a child.

"To be perfectly honest with you, I have no idea." Ian said, slowly inching toward her. "But I'm sure it's just a mistake. She's probably here to sneak a late night peek at the penguins or something. He reached her side. "Isn't that right, Lisa?"

Lisa looked up at Ian, only recognizing him by his voice with the visor down. In the last few days, everyone she knew seemed to be turning out to be a psionic. Not only were they psionics, but Warrick, Cyn, Alexis and Ian had all acquitted themselves to be selfless and heroic with their powers – like the prelates she'd heard about on the news. Tentatively, she nodded.

"See?" Ian said. "Now go see those silly, silly penguins, Lisa. See them far away from the range of the big monkey with a magic lance-thing."

This time Lisa shook her head.

"Uh, Lisa? What are you doing?"

The fetish grew warm around Lucian's neck again and he extended the lance more firmly.

"You need my help." Lisa said quietly. But she wasn't looking at Ian, she was looking at Lucian. Suddenly, she knew why she had been drawn to follow Morganna. Her Aunt Tay would have wanted her to use her knowledge to do good. "I know what she did to you."

"M-my Lady has done nothing to me except give me purpose." Lucian wavered slightly. The fetish burned with painful insistence now. The command word that could easily end the young woman's life was on the tip of his tongue.

"Lucian!" Alexis shouted. "Morganna's down. I knocked her out."

A knight's instinct overrode the alien desire to kill the girl. The Ape Knight whirled in defense of his master, lance at the ready. Ian began calling wind, hoping to strike Lucian from behind, but before he could build up enough force, Lisa broke from his side and ran toward Lucian with sudden determination.

She covered the distance faster than she ever remembered moving and leapt at the knight's back. Her mind flashed with memories of Morganna's plans to enslave the Ape Knight, bypassing key flaws in the Rites of the Open Eye; namely the confusion and morality of a freshly sapient mind. The fetish was the focus for her control; allowing her to influence Lucian with little or no concentration.

"Stri—"the word was cut off by a strangled yelp as the leather cord that held the fetish to Lucian's neck went taunt. Dropping the lance, the Ape Knight grabbed the cord in one huge hand and reached behind him with the other. Struggling to breathe, he went to his knees and shook himself like a wet dog, throwing Lisa from his back.

Before she even came to rest, he was up again, howling with rage. His ham sized fists were raised high, ready to pulp her.

Shrinking before the bestial fury of Lucian, Lisa tried to roll away.

There was no need. Lucian stopped in his rage, eyes focusing on the fetish. He'd torn it off in his effort of desperation to escape strangulation. In his hand, it no longer glowed with faint, eldritch power, nor did it burn or even feel warm. It was inert. Dead.

Then the weight of what he had almost done came crashing down on him like a wave. He had almost murdered innocents on the orders of a madwoman who would have used him to murder countless more. Dropping the fetish, he let out a groaning roar and collapsed on his hands and knees, pounding the gravel under his fists into dust.

Alexis approached him cautiously, knocking the lance away from him with her bō staff.

"Your fears..." Lucian finally said with a shuttering sigh that sounded like the growl of a big cat, "...are unnecessary. I see the wrongs I have done now. And there is nothing I can do to undo them."

Ian stepped closer to him. "We figured out that you were mind controlled. We just didn't know how to stop it." He crouched down next to the still slumped Ape Knight. "The way I see it, the sin in this is all Morganna's."

Lucian shook his head. "I have to take responsibility." He looked over to Lisa. "I owe you a debt I do not think I can ever repay." He rumbled as he stood, moving with ponderous steps toward the stairs.

"Whoa, hold on, Lucian." Ian said, "You can't just go running around the city as you are. No offense, but people will freak the hell out."

"I know." Lucian said, "But I no longer belong here either. I will find a place for myself and Embarr so I can think things through. I hope to eventually pay for my sins... and bring Morganna to justice."

"But we already brought her to justice." Alexis said, gesturing. Then she blinked. "Oh my god..."

Lucian nodded. "She was not unconscious from your attack. If she had been, I would have known. The amulet that controlled me also made me aware of her injuries."

"You mean to tell me that we're back to square one and every psionic in the city is still in mortal peril?" Ian looked up to the rain for answers.

Lucian moved for the stairs again. "Do not despair, psionic. She is badly injured and healing magic takes time. You have carried this day."

Ian sighed and took off his visor, pressing his temples with one hand. "If you say so." Lucian nodded to him and started down the stairs. "Hey, Lucian..." Ian said back. The Ape Knight turned and caught his lance as Ian tossed it to him. "You're probably going to need that thing. No way Morganna's going to give up on you any more than she'll give up on us."

Lucian gave the best equivalent of a smile his ape face could manage. "Thank you, psionic. I was mistaken in insulting your honor."

"The name's Ian." Ian returned. "And the same goes for you."

##

##

## Myths and Heroes (Part 5)

The previous night's heavy rain slowed to a light drizzle with the dawn. It was soon after that that the Garfield Zoo was overrun with police investigators and reporters. Channel 16 even had a helicopter circling the scene.

A week of animal disappearances had culminated in scattered destruction and further loss of stock. The structural damage to the roofs of the reptile house and the arctic animal hall, as well as several retaining walls and an ornamental fountain was already estimated to be in the high range of six digits. Worst of all were the biggest losses of animals yet; Joey a twelve year old orangutan; the zoo's only white rhino, Clara; and over a dozen snakes including a rare species of python.

Security reported terrible sounds in the night and what sounded like explosions. The police had no leads, but the zoo was offering a thirty thousand dollar reward for information leading to an arrest and recovery of the animals.

Warrick quickly changed the channel when he heard someone coming up the stairs.

"Nah, change it back." Ian said as he crested the stairs. "It's not like I don't know what happened."

Nodding, Warrick turned back to the news, but the broadcast was now discussing traffic. "How long do you think until she's back?" He asked, not taking his eyes off the television.

"No telling." Ian said, sitting down on the other end of the couch. "Alexis seriously kicked her ass and Lucian said it would take time for her to bounce back from it."

"But she will be back." Warrick confirmed. "And she's probably going to hunt down some psionics with a little less fight in them next time." He tossed the remote onto the coffee table.

Ian shook his head. "Look, I know how you feel. I was the one that was out there with a chance to stop her last night and screwed up. But we can't sit around worrying about the one who got away." He put his feet up on the table. "For example, school is starting in what, three weeks? Alexis has it in her head to have all of you but Kareem enroll."

Warrick made a faint, non-committal sound.

"Frankly, I agree with her on this one." The older man continued. "If you don't, we're going to have to do some mental gymnastics to get around the truancy board and that'll probably be more hindering than homework ever was."

"How are we supposed to go to school and act normal when Morganna's still out there, waiting to put us in a jar?" Warrick blinked.

"Same way you've managed to make friends, have fun and save the day on occasion with the Academy out to put you in a jar." Ian said with a matter of fact air. "You just realize that no matter what else is going on, you have to live your life – no matter what evil sons of bitches are breathing down you neck." He put a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "You want to be a hero?"

Warrick nodded.

"Then that's the first lesson. Now teach that to your fellow heroes-in-training and we'll have no problem dealing with these things when they come up."

***

"When I was younger, I always thought it would be really neat if magic and fantasy existed." Alexis commented. She inhaled the scent of her coffee deeply, hoping the caffeine would clear her mind a bit more. "But now it exists and it's very scary."

Laurel shrugged. She was back at her computer following a well deserved night's sleep. "I actually think it's pretty exciting." She looked up in time to catch Alexis's eye roll. "Don't get me wrong, Morganna is scary. But magic itself could be the discovery of the century. It could revolutionize the world in the right hands."

Alexis shook her head. "Right now, it's definitely not in the right hands."

"I know." Laurel frowned. "The worst part is that we still know nothing about her; where she is, where she came from..."

"We know what time she came from." Alexis offered.

"Point." Laurel started scrolling through a few website entries she had placed in her 'maybe' pile. "It's a start. Not much of one, but it'll have to do. I'm not giving up on this one, Alex. Forewarned is forearmed and unless one of us miraculously develops a sorcerous knack, we're going to need something more concrete to use against her."

***

Lisa sat on the edge of her bed. She hadn't slept at all that night. There was too much on her mind.

Her family had been relieved to have her back, though concerned about what she had told them about her aunt. Still, she could tell they were still nervous around her; frightened that the ordeal wasn't over. It wasn't like Lisa could blame them. It still felt like she had been the one that had cast the spell that left Zack in the hospital.

Of course, her family would come around. They were close and even something like possession wasn't strong enough to come between them for long. Lisa was more worried about her friends. Not only had she attacked them; hurt them, but she now knew things she knew she was never meant to.

After the chaos at the zoo, she had pretended to faint and forget everything that had happened. She didn't know why the Freeland House residents were hiding their psionic natures, but she decided not to be one more person they had to worry about telling the world.

Then there was Kay. Apparently even Warrick and Cyn had been unaware that she was psionic – until Morganna had let the proverbial cat out of the bag using Lisa as a proxy. That one stung. Kay had been her best friend since third grade. The two were the founding members of the currently inactive band Snackrifice together. Lisa had thought they were best friends. And yet Kay hadn't trusted her with her secret.

And worst of all, her aunt was still missing. Both Alexis and Ian had promised to do everything they could to make things right, but the truth was that those two had barely beaten Morganna and her knight. Now that Morganna knew what they were capable of, they'd have an even harder time stopping her the next time.

A week ago, her biggest problem was being upset with herself for pushing JC away. Now that seemed petty by comparison.

With a sigh, she flopped back on the bed and closed her eyes. Even with her eyes closed, she felt the room around her. It was something she recognized from her time trapped in Morganna's thrall. With some concentration, she picked out her computer by feeling the soft hum of electricity in it. Concentrating more, she could follow the patterns of light coming from her lamp.

Then she felt three presences moving up the hall toward her. Startled, she opened her eyes and sat up. She had felt their heartbeats. Even knowing they were coming, Lisa jumped at the knock on her door.

"C-come in." She tried to sound like her old self. The door swung open to reveal Cyn, Juniper and Kay.

"Your mom let us in." Cyn said by way of explanation as she breezed into the room. "Get your stuff together, we're going to the park, and then shopping, and then we're going to catch a lame movie and mock the hell out of it."

Lisa blinked.

Juniper gave her a pitying glance. "Cyn, maybe she's not ready."

"That's the point." Kay piped up, leaning on the doorframe. She grinned at Lisa. "Don't mind what she says, if you're not ready, me and Cyn plan on making you ready." She pretended to crack her knuckles. "So do we do this the easy way, or the hard way?"

Lisa smiled in spite of herself. "I was worried that none of you would want anything to do with me after all that's happened."

Kay waved her hand dismissively. "Evil ghost in your brain. The girls filled me in and we all agree – all is forgiven, okay?"

"You're taking this way better than I am." Lisa sighed.

"I think they've just agreed that no matter how implausible what's happened in the last week has been," Juniper looked around the room at the others, "we know deep down that you wouldn't do anything like that on your own. And from what I've heard, I agree."

Feeling a small part of her burden lifted from her shoulders, Lisa mustered a genuine smile. "Thanks, guys. Let's go."

End Issue #6

#

#

#

#

# Issue #7: Legacy of One

## Mystic Spiral Part 3

##

##

## Legacy of One (Part 1)

The bus dropped the four young psionics off at the bottom of the mountainous steps leading up to Freeland House.

"Oh, man, are we going to have to climb these things every day when we get off the bus?" Warrick groaned. "It's bad enough that Mr. Bevilacqua plans on making us do laps every day before gym."

"I'd do laps all freaking day if I didn't have to take the useless classes I got saddled with." Cyn grimaced. Somehow, the school had managed to switch most of her class requests with Melissa's resulting in her not only being separated from all of her friends most of the day, but also in her class load being as appealing to her as watching linoleum peel.

"It can't be that bad." Juniper said, "I only got two classes I wanted and I think things will go just fine."

Cyn managed not the glare at her perpetually sunny housemate. More than once, she wondered if her almost irrational optimism was the result of brain damage or a mask for some sort of psychotic rage boiling just beneath the surface.

"Let me put it this way," the white haired girl finally said, "Humanity's been around like eighty thousand years. In that time, we've had like thousands of religions with gods and other divine honchos. That's like maybe a million gods, right?"

The others nodded as they began to ascend the stairs.

"Right." Cyn affirmed. "Well, after today, I can say with certainty that every single one of them hates me."

"Now you're just being melodramatic." Warrick said.

"Nope." Cyn shook her head. "And it's not just the class thing. Have you ever heard of 'conserv' girls? They're like the new obnoxious clique around here or something – a cross between the fashion police and poster girls for a vapid lifestyle. And they're in like every single one of my classes except drama."

"Those drama lessons are already paying off." Melissa muttered with a roll of her eyes.

If Cyn heard her, she didn't acknowledge. "So apparently, white hair is 'out' or something, so I had to hear about it like ten times every period!"

"Can't you just recolor your hair – like at will?" Warrick asked and Juniper nodded her head in agreement.

"That's not the point!" Cyn exclaimed, "It's the principle of the thing. I'm hell bent on shoving their faces in it... or hitting them, I'm not sure which yet. In any event, I wouldn't have gotten a moment's peace today if it wasn't for Liz von Stoker."

"Is that a new friend of yours?" Juniper asked. She decided to keep the fact that the conserv girls all seemed to like her to herself. The tried and true cynic, Cyn already had a hard enough time getting along with her and she didn't want to push her luck.

"Not really. More like fellow victim" Cyn explained. "They ignored my white hair to attack her bone spurs."

"Bone spurs?" Melissa blinked, her curiosity forcing her into the conversation. "What?"

Cyn nodded, pausing on a landing. "Little bone nubs coming out of her arm." She indicated a line from the back of her middle finger down to her elbow to illustrate. "She's a protomorph."

All four knew what the term meant. A protomorph was someone who developed the ability to change their shape or biology once and only once and they were stuck with the result. These ranged from changes in skin coloration to truly aberrant physiology like gills or segmented eyes.

Protomorphs were exemplarily of the attitude the government and the Academy took with psionics; those with exploitable powers were given essentially a free ride for life; free schooling and guaranteed work under government contract. Those that didn't – the ones that drain batteries in consumer electronics faster than normal, have a perpetual static charge, or who can change their eye color at will – weren't given a second thought.

The public acceptance of psionics as 'citizen assets' wasn't extended to people with unusual, but fairly useless physical manifestations like Elizabeth van Stoker. As far as society was concerned, she was just a freak.

Everyone looked at one another uncomfortably for a moment. Elizabeth's situation was the polar opposite from theirs, but the similarities were there and they were disturbing.

"So..." Juniper began, hoping to get everyone's minds off the discomfort. "How was your day, Melissa?" The second she asked the question, she saw her mistake, even without the glare from Melissa.

"I have all of Cyn's classes, except for my computer courses." It was Melissa's turn to grimace. "This is going to be my second time taking both American History and Spanish because we can't very well show them my original records." Mentally, she considered the fact that ten more years of American history had gone by since the last time she had taken it.

"Whatever." Cyn sighed, starting up the stairs again. "I'm going to change, then hop a cab into town to meet Kay and Lisa. Anyone coming with?"

"I'll share a cab with you, but I need to hit downtown to take reference pictures for Ms. Cruz's class, "Warrick said, "We're jumping right into our first week's projects and I figure a nice cityscape as seen from one of the high rooftops would be pretty cool."

"I'll come." Juniper said. "Kay's been talking about drafting me as Snackrifice's singer all month. Maybe we can talk shop."

All three looked at Melissa who made a face. "I actually wouldn't mind stopping by the bookstore today, but I promised to tell Kareem everything about today, so maybe next time."

***

Vincent Liedecker picked up his office phone before the sound of the first ring had even died in his ears. "Speak." He ordered as if giving a command to a dog, which is exactly what he thought of it as. Only a handful of people knew the number and they all knew better than to call for minor problems.

"Rick Charlotte, sir." The voice on the other end said. "I'm ready to patch you in on the street level cameras."

"Good." Liedecker said. "You have that face recognition software you mentioned running?"

"If Farnsworth crosses to within a block, we'll know it, sir."

"That's what I want to hear, Charlotte." The secret strongman of the Mayfield underworld said. In the weeks since the thief had disappeared with Liedecker's painting, _Portrait of Morganna le Fay_ by Unknown _,_ he had mustered a substantial dragnet to find her and bring her in.

The previous day had yielded the first lead in that time. A camera monitor, formerly affiliated with Brother Wright, had spotted Tatiana Farnsworth entering City Central Library. Some simple analysis by Rick Charlotte had revealed that she had printed off ever single _Scribe_ article about the prelate team, Life Savers, Inc and several more about psionics in general. That had increased the priority of bringing her in ten fold in Liedecker's eyes.

Charlotte had also discovered that Farnsworth had spent a disproportionate amount of time at the website of the DeFilippis Center, a small, local archeological museum. For all the world, it appeared that Farnsworth, the infamous Lady Nightshade, was casing the museum for a robbery.

But Liedecker hadn't come into power by taking things at face value. He had taken control of Mayfield by knowing his enemies and exploiting that knowledge. He'd had Charlotte check further into the DeFilippis Center and found that it held very little in the way of monetarily valuable discoveries. Several of its pieces had rich historical significance, but their price tags would be beneath the notice of the thief of Farnsworth's caliber.

"This is a setup." Liedecker said as the street camera views appeared on his computer screen.

"Pardon sir?" Rick asked.

"Setup, Charlotte. A trick, a run around. She's playing with us."

"What do you mean, sir? She couldn't have known we'd spot her through public security cameras." Rick sounded nervous and was right to be.

"Think on that a second, you snot-brained idiot." Liedecker rumbled. "Nightshade's the kind that loves attention. She leaves pieces of belladonna with lipstick on them at crime scenes for God's sake."

"I'm not following sir."

"Open your useless brain, Charlotte." Liedecker said in his drawl. "She knows how to get attention without getting caught. If she's smart enough to get past hidden cameras, she can damn well get past the public ones with the big signs saying 'this is a goddamn government camera'. She's trying to get someone's attention, you dumb little worm!"

"With all due respect, sir..." Rick stammered, "If this is a trap, why are we sending our guys into it?"

"Because they, like you, are expendable, Charlotte." Liedecker stated the honest truth. "If we catch her, perfect, if she catches them, they weren't worth being part of the organization. It's all a matter of risk versus reward."

***

The long winter coat made her stand out even before any of Liedecker's men inside the DeFilippis Center heard her stream of consciousness muttering. She hadn't even bothered to put up the fur lined hood to hide her face. Tatiana Farnsworth was certainly not acting like the woman who had insulted and robbed the most powerful man in Mayfield.

She ignored the eyes on her back, striding across the hardwood rotunda of the museum toward an exhibition room containing the museum's spoils from a dig in the south of France. Once there, she moved more slowly, her eyes closed. She seemed to be sniffing the air.

The first thug made his move. A stun gun slipped out of his suit pocket as he stepped behind her. There were no worries about getting caught – the curator and staff had been paid handsomely. Trying to be silent, he stepped up behind her.

The thief moved with a fluid grace that was almost inhuman. She dropped into a crouch and swept his legs out from under him with a well placed kick. He exclaimed as he fell. "You... aren't... aren't who I wanted." Morganna studied him with an alien expression.

Ignoring the fallen man and the other three toughs that were closing on her, she wandered over to a heavy oak chair. The placard set on the velvet rope that separated patrons from the antique furniture proclaimed that it had been carved from a single contiguous piece and told of the date of it's discovery and probable age. There was also a notation about it's unusual lightness.

Morganna chuckled. "They... they never would have found it... They can't feel it..."

"Hands up, Farnsworth." One of Liedecker's men, a stout Asian man with a thick moustache ordered. He held a pistol and kept his distance, wary of the fate of the man who had got close to her.

Morganna leaned over and touched the seat of the chair. It thrummed with the power hidden within. The object's presence had been revealed to her in a portentous dream and it had taken days of learning from Tatiana Farnsworth's memories to navigate the information caches of this world to find this place.

"I said hands up!" The man with the gun ordered. The others stood behind him. One of them also held a pistol. The other looked as if he was prepared to fight barehanded.

"I don't... don't want... any of you." Morganna didn't take her eyes off the chair. The spell concealing the compartment was complex – it was a wonder it had survived this long.

The first gunman brandished his weapon again. "I don't care what you want. You're coming with us, bitch! Now turn around right now!"

Morganna's eyes flashed dangerously. "I said..." She turned, drawing on Lady Nightshade's psionic power as she did. An invisible blade of force bisected the gunman's weapon before severing his thumb and cutting a thin, but deep gash in his arm. "I DON'T WANT ANY OF YOU!" Before the gunman could scream, Morganna was in motion, hand blurring as she called up magic to lay her enemies low.

***

Morganna emerged from the museum, stowing something unwieldy into the sack at her hip. She looked sullen as she looked around the street as if expecting someone to show up. Someone did.

A nearby vending machine flickered and faded away, its holographic image no longer required. Passerby gawked in confusion as the black lacquered plates of the Sky Tyrant powered armor shown in the orange light of the setting sun.

"I suggest all citizens leave the area immediately." A deep, digitally altered voice resonated from the armor's speakers. The armor's new, articulated hand raised and pointed at Morganna. "I'm here for her." The declaration was punctuated by a plasma lance emerging from the armor's right forearm.

As the crowd began to panic and disperse, now certain that this was definitely not a new kind of police powered armor like those employed in New York, Morganna regarded it with sudden interest. "You... aren't what I wanted. But... but... you are different. I want your machine."

Inside the armor, Scuff leered. "Maybe after you see the boss, baby. But for now come along quietly so I don't have to bruise that pretty face too bad, huh?"

Morganna made a gesture and the Sky Tyrant was rocked by an unseen force. Readouts on Scuff's heads up display indicated that a powerful focused blast had just impacted the shields and armor across his chest. Morganna looked just as shocked as Scuff.

"That... that should have taken your heart out!" She raged. "What manner of... being are you?"

"The name's Sky Tyrant." Scuff said, activating flight systems to hover a few feet off the ground. "Now that whatever you just did didn't work, I think it's time I grab you by the hair and drag you back to the boss caveman style."

Morganna was taken aback. Even against the psionics that had defeated her Ape Knight, her stolen psionic power had managed to do at least small wounds. This machine with a man inside hadn't even been scratched. She needed to see what the beast was capable of. "We... we shall see." She said, drawing a long, grey feather from her bag.

With a word of power, the feather lofted into the air and began circling her as if caught in the wind. After a single orbit, one feather became two, then two became four, and four became eight. Soon, a storm of feathers roared around Morganna in a flurry.

Thoroughly confused, Scuff backed the Sky Tyrant way from the freak storm of feathers.

There was a flash of light and the feather cloud parted to reveal Morganna—now sporting a quartet of grey feathered wings. Laughing with manic glee, the sorceress took to the sky.

##

##

## Legacy of One (Part 2)

The sun tinted the cloudless sky a brilliant orange as if began to dip behind the mountains far to the west, silhouetting the buildings in the western skyline perfectly. Warrick's digital camera beeped repeatedly as he took rapid-fire pictures of the scene.

He was dressed in his black, face masked Alloy disguise to allay suspicion as to how he had managed to reach the top of the building he was using as a platform for his photography. The tentacles were out and rummaging around in Warrick's satchel, occasionally, handing him things when asked.

A particularly impressive view of the Westinghall Building; it's gently rounded facades reflecting the sunset; presented itself and Warrick took a few shots of that as well. "Isp, hand me my wireless transmitter, please? I want to send these to my email account so there's no chance of accidentally erasing them."

For some time, he had been privately referring to the tentacles by name. It just seemed appropriate that they had names. He had dubbed them Isp and Osp after minor characters from one of his favorite classic comic series; the one that tended to be on the right was Isp, the one on the left, Osp. They responded favorably to their new monikers, reacting more quickly when addressed by them.

Isp produced the requested gadget from Warrick's bag and deposited it in an outstretched palm.

"Thanks." Warrick said, plugging the transmitter into the camera and using the thumb pad to start the transfer of the pictures.

Somewhere down the block and far below, the usual buzz of activity was suddenly replaced by screams and shouts of confusion. Moments later, rapid gunfire spilt the air.

"Holy crap!" Warrick rushed to the edge of the roof and looked down. He was too high up and too far away to see what was going on other than the snarled traffic that was a side effect, but the gunfire continued. Biting his lip, Warrick made his decision. He mentally warned the tentacles of what he was going to do seconds before taking a running leap off the building.

For a second that seemed like minutes, he was sailing out into empty space, the wind rippling the fabric of his shirt. Then the tentacles sprang into action with celerity beyond what any normal human could match. Isp formed a slim harpoon and buried itself into the concrete at the edge of the roof. At the same time, Osp coiled and lashed forward, exerting forward momentum that propelled Warrick toward the sound of the gunfire. They alternated, one anchoring and one whipping forward, carrying Warrick forward in a gentle swinging motion.

Soaring over the gridlocked traffic, Warrick finally saw the cause of all the commotion; a winged woman he'd never seen before was dodging bullets and making sharp gestures in a seeming counter attack. Her opponent was the same man in powered armor as the one that had assaulted he and Cyn months before.

Eyes narrowing, he reached out with his power and converted several streetlights and window grates into snaking streamers of liquid metal in his wake. They whipped up around him like leaves on an invisible wind, falling into patterns formed from his mind. By the time he reached the battle, he was ensconced in armor of dark, weathered metal.

"It's about time you showed your ugly mug around here again!" Warrick crowed as the tentacles swung him feet first into the powered armor's back. The strike was too fast and unexpected for the armor's flight system to correct in time and the Sky Tyrant was sent careening into a wall. "I see you're still getting off on harassing women." Warrick finished as the tentacles sat him down in the middle of the street. All around him, cars had been abandoned by drivers desperate to escape the battle.

"You!" Morganna and Sky Tyrant shouted as one.

Scuff switched from the rubber bullet ordinance Liedecker had ordered him to use in combat with Lady Nightshade to the Tesla Arc. "Stay out of this, tin can. My boss just wants a word with the lady."

"Yeah, I bet." Warrick said flatly. He wondered where the woman recognized him from. "What kind of guy would I be if I didn't help the lady shake off some unwanted creeps? Smacking down bad guys is up there with opening doors and pulling out chairs in these modern times we live in."

"You've go no idea who you're screwing with. "Sky Tyrant extended the plasma lance from his right arm. "Now back off!" He leveled the weapon, aiming for Warrick's center.

Meanwhile, Morganna hovered, clumsily retrieving the object she had stolen from the DeFilippis Center from her bag. "Yes... I knew one would come. This new power – it... it will show them the strength of magic." She drew out a heavy book, large enough that even her spell enhanced muscles had trouble balancing it in one hand, and began flipping through pages.

Finding the passage she was searching for, she laughed loudly. "Now... psionic... face true power!" She began reading in a twisting, fluid language, a haze of green light rising from the page she recited from. She didn't finish.

"Shut _up_!" A bolt of blue lightning flickered through the air and into her. She screamed, arching her back in pain and dropping the book. The feathers crackled with electricity and dissolved into nothingness, causing Morganna to drop from the air. "Crazy bitch." Scuff snarled through the Sky Tyrant's speakers. "You're more trouble than you're worth."

Warrick blinked. That halting, disjointed manner of speaking was unmistakable – Morganna. He watched her twitch on the ground a few times before turning his attention to the Sky Tyrant. "What are you doing messing around with that fruitcake?"

"Business." Scuff replied dryly, his plasma torch still trained on Warrick. "Now that she's down, I've got some time to kill before it's time to drag her to the boss. Let's talk old times."

"You don't have as much time as you think." Warrick said. Before Scuff could react to the comment, invisible knives of force raked Sky Tyrant's arm, this time actually scoring the lacquered paneling.

"Meddling machine!" Morganna screamed, leaning heavily against a car. "The psionic... is _mine_ , Sky Tyrant!"

The sudden and surprising violence of the attack made Scuff forget he was supposed to take Farnsworth alive and raked her position with the plasma lance, tearing through two cars, but missing the darting sorceress completely.

Warrick grit his teeth. "I really hate to do this... but she's more dangerous than you ever hoped to be." He finally said. He bought his powers to bear on one of the cars the Sky Tyrant's plasma lance had just totaled. Paint, plastic and glass collapsed as the metals beneath them deformed and jutted forward, reaching for Morganna like searching fingers.

Her hands suddenly sheathed in white flame, Morganna batted the first few aside before reaching into her bag. The remainder of the former car caught her before she could use whatever she grabbed. It flowed over her, encasing her legs and oozing up them to her torso.

"Pfft, she doesn't look so dangerous to me." Scuff said, switching back to rubber ordinance.

Moments before he fired, Morganna was surrounded by a rosy pink glow and disappeared. The bullets battered the encasing metal, and broke a few windows, but nothing more. Moments later, the same pinkish light flared into being directly behind Sky Tyrant and Morganna emerged from the Astral Plane, wings in place once more. Her left hand glowed white as she pressed it palm first into the small of the suit's back.

All the warning lights on the head's up display went off at once and Scuff found himself temporarily blind. Roaring wordlessly, he turned, clubbing Morganna away with the still hot nozzle of his plasma lance.

Back winging, Morganna dodged as Warrick extruded more metal from a nearby mailbox to try to snare her. "Soon... in good time... psionic. The Book, it will--" She was cut off as she nearly took another shot from the Tesla Arc. "The machine first. I... want it and it's master."

She grinned at Scuff, who had regained his bearings and made a come hither gesture. "Follow." She said, before winging upward and away. The Sky Tyrant's flight systems screamed as it took off to intercept.

The tentacles coiled, preparing to swing Warrick after the pair, but Warrick mentally stopped them. "If she wants that book, it's dangerous." He reasoned aloud, hurrying over to where Morganna has dropped it. It looked even heavier than it did in Morganna's hands and he had to grip it with both hands to heft it. "We can't leave this thing just lying around."

He glanced after Morganna and the Sky Tyrant, but both had turned a corner somewhere. "We'll catch up to them after I get this somewhere safe; wherever that is." The tentacles didn't miss a beat in carrying him aloft again, toward the roof where he'd left his bag. "Ms. Brant will know what to do." Warrick reasoned as he frowned at the strange symbols on the book's leather cover.

***

Alexis continued swimming laps as the automatic lights came up to replace the lost daylight. Laurel sat nearby at the patio table, ostensibly to time Alexis's laps, but her attention was almost entirely on her latest acquisition. It was currently in two pieces; a silver and black affair that fit over her left ear with an eyepiece that extended over the corresponding eye; and a pad of buttons about four inches wide, six inches long and about half an inch thick and made to fold in half.

"New toy?" Ian asked, emerging from the house. He had a can of cola in one hand and a glass filled with ice in the other.

Laurel nodded, "the Yamauchi Integrated Portable – it won't be available stateside for a month and a half." Her thumbs worked over the keypad as she spoke. "My friend Takashi sent it to me along with the Sentinel: Guardian of Order beta.

"Takashi... have I met him?" Ian asked, taking a seat across from her. He cracked open the can and carefully poured it down the side of the glass to avoid having it foam over.

"Yeah, he came to visit back in Seattle – about the time you were dating Leanne. Remember, he treated us all to that horrible _Forever Sacred_ movie?"

"Oh!" Ian smirked at a sudden observation "Wow, that movie was so bad, I can remember someone because of their sarcastic remarks during it."

Laurel nodded. "So, what's up?"

Ian blinked. "Nothing. It's a little too quiet inside, so I decided to come out here to talk." He shrugged, but Laurel noticed his eyes dart momentarily toward Alexis. She didn't give any indication that she'd seen it though.

"Quiet is good." Laurel said, "Quiet indicates an absence of explosions, painful injuries or passive aggressive cat fights. Speaking of which, how do you think the kids' first day at school went?"

"I wonder..." Ian replied, "I mean, we never had a real high school experience ourselves, with the Academy and all and neither have they. I honestly don't know how high school is supposed to be aside from television."

"Well—"Laurel started, but her phone began to play _Symphony to Athena_ by the Blind Fighters.

"Hello?" She answered it, placing it next to the ear that wasn't covered by the game's headpiece. "Really?" She said in a flat, reserved tone. "Well I'll get up to my workshop and I'll take a look at it." She said before hanging up.

"Sorry, Ian, that was Warrick." She said in a hushed tone so Alexis wouldn't hear. "He ran into something he needs me to take a look at while he was out doing his hero thing."

Ian raised an eyebrow. "How did—"

"Super genius, Ian." She said tapping the side of her head. Removing the game's headset, she folded it into the closed handset. "Do me a favor, please?" Ian nodded, dumbly, still a bit shocked Laurel both knew about Life Savers, Inc and about his knowledge of them. "Tell Alexis she's shaved two seconds off her normal time."

***

Scuff was flying almost blind. Whatever Lady Nightshade had done to him, it had not only severed his connection to Liedecker but it had severely damaged his navigation and night vision modules. It was only for the fact that his quarry was being careful not to lose him that he was able to follow.

He didn't really care if she was leading him into a trap; he had a full clip of rubber bullets left, his Tesla Arc was charged, and the armor's hull integrity seemed to be holding steady. He checked it again – the damage sensors were malfunctioning, they said hull integrity had increased from eighty percent nominal to eighty three percent. Bug aside, the Sky Tyrant had never felt so maneuverable. Scuff put it up to his determination to teach Nightshade some manners.

The aforementioned woman back winged and spiraled down toward a burned out factory in the industrial section. One skylight had previously been shattered; granting access to what at one time had been the office floor of the factory. The Sky Tyrant glided gently inside after the retreating woman.

The moment the powered armor suit touched down inside, several hundred candles ignited with an audible 'whuff'. They lit a space that looked like the scene from a century old vampire movie.

The walls were covered with alien writing; scrawled in seemingly whatever medium had presented itself at the time. The few desks that had survived were covered with glasses and jars containing assorted bits of flotsam and jetsam, some of which bubbled or smoked eerily. Cages held small animals of various shapes captive with only improvised dishes of water as sustenance. Blackened chains, presumably scavenged from the factory below hung from the ceiling in macabre imitation of intestines. In one corner, a makeshift forge had been built from a cement caster filled with coal.

There was no sign of the winged woman. Scuff turned the armor in a slow circle, Tesla Arc at the ready.

"You feel it... don't you?" Morganna's voice came from somewhere in the darkness. Scuff launched a bolt of electricity in that direction. He only managed to burn a few flowering plants that had been placed in the corner.

"Your machine... it listens now." The voice was behind him now and he sent a burst of gunfire into a desk's worth of glass implements.

"My... my gift for helping to show him. He is... powerful. He... will understand. This... this body knows he will."

"What the hell is going on here?!" Scuff demanded. He tried to switch on his floodlights only to find that they weren't working.

"You... you gain power from it. You...worry. About losing that power." Morganna's voice came from everywhere at once now. "I will make you one with that power."

Light flared underneath the Sky Tyrant, a dark, blood color that threw sinister shadows around the room. Error messages exploded in Scuff's head and he screamed. The Sky Tyrant's flight systems failed and he came down on his knees in the center of a five pointed star drawn in light on the floor.

"Tell him!" Morganna's voice boomed. She hadn't been from inside the room at all, Scuff realized. She was in his head.

His body felt as if it was melting, on fire. Roaring in pain, he fired the Arc and his machine gun wildly about the room, hoping to catch his tormenter before losing consciousness. Steam rose from the weapons as they overheated and locked, leaving Scuff's own screams as the only sounds in the room.

As he wavered and collapsed within the pentacle, he heard shrill, gleeful laughter.

_TELL HIM_.

##

##

## Legacy of One (Part 3)

"You're looking a little spacey." Alexis observed as she got out of the pool. She had caught Ian watching the ice melt in his soda.

"Eh?" Ian jumped a bit at the sudden noise. "Oh, sorry, I was just thinking." He shrugged and took a drink.

Alexis made an amused sound as she picked up her towel from the back of a chair and briskly began drying her hair. "About anything interesting?" She asked from within the blue terrycloth depths of the towel.

Ian shrugged again. "Not really. I was just thinking that it's been nice and peaceful lately. I never thought things would get back to normal so quickly. Especially after the whole Morganna thing."

"I wouldn't call this 'normal'" Alexis sat down in the chair Laurel had previously occupied. "We're still on the run for all intents and purposes and you and Laurel are three thousand miles from home."

"Seattle was nice, yeah." Ian said, "But this is nice too." He put every ounce of optimism he had behind his voice. "I mean we're basically living a millionaire lifestyle thanks to Ms. Brant's very shady bank accounts. No need to fight two hours of traffic to get to work, or even having to work period. We're free to pretty much do whatever we want."

Alexis blinked. She had never considered the positive aspects of their current situation. There were definite perks; living in what was essentially a mansion, a brand new car, having her two dearest friends back in her life again... But she never took time to consider it in the midst of all her worries about the kids and being found by the Academy.

"You never thought of it that way." Ian seemingly read her mind.

"What makes you think that?" she asked slowly.

"Because you haven't really let yourself think of it. You've been wound extremely tight the last four months. I've never seen you nearly as freaked as this thing with the Academy has you. I-I'm... worried about you."

Alexis shook her head. "Who said I was freaked out? Or tightly wound for that matter?" her voice came out more shrill than she intended.

"No one had to, Alexis. Granted, I hadn't seen you in a couple of years before this all happened, but I refuse to believe you've changed that much from the girl I knew back in school." Ian fidgeted with his drink. He hadn't intended to push this far. He hadn't intended to push at all, but he thought that this was something Alexis needed.

"You changed." Alexis said defensively. "You're way more confident than you were before. And more assertive too. We'd never have had this conversation back in the day."

"Yeah, but you haven't, Alexis." Ian asserted. "I've seen you let your guard down. When you get all amped up and the adrenaline makes you forget all the crap that's been put on you; like when we were in Florida, or Raleigh – hell, just after the fight at the zoo, you were almost totally back to your old self for a while."

Alexis's eyes flashed dangerously. "The old me would have gotten us killed, Ian. Back then, I would have fought the Academy tooth and nail until the Enforcers killed me." She shook her head, "But now I'm not the only one I have to look out for. Those kids..."

"Those kids do a pretty good job handling themselves." Ian said. "Otherwise, with all the time they spend out of the house, I'm sure we'd have heard about some extraordinary gratuitous uses of power."

"But someone still has to—"

"I'm not saying we should abandon them, Alexis. Hell, I'm going to be honest and say I'm going to miss them when we finally get them back where they belong. But we have to live our own – wow..." Ian blinked at his own words.

"What?" Alexis inclined her head in confusion.

"Nothing, I just gave this same speech before to Warrick." Ian suddenly stood up. "Look, I suck at giving advice, so let's do it this way—how about you and I go out tonight? Catch a movie, have some dinner – maybe find a club that plays music other than the crap that's been out the last couple of years."

"Are you serious?" Alexis asked, staring at him as if he'd grown a second head.

"Of course I am." Ian said. "You need to get out of the house and away from worrying about the kids. They're not even at home now, so what better time to play hooky?"

Chewing her lip, Alexis thought on it. She really had put her all into being den mother around Freeland House. But Ian didn't understand how much of this she felt was her fault... her responsibility. "Ian, I don't understand how you can be so..."

"Impulsive? Exciting?" Ian guessed with the parody of an arrogant smirk on his lips.

"I was going to say reckless, but I think I was being too harsh."

"You should make it up to me then." Ian grinned, "By buying the popcorn."

***

Warrick was sitting at one of Laurel's work benches, nervously fiddling with some spare parts when she entered the workroom. He was so absorbed in what he was doing, that he didn't notice her.

"Is that an electromagnet?" She asked, peering over his shoulder.

Warriick fumbled the length of wire he had been coiling with his powers and sat bolt upright. "Uh... kind of. I used to build these sorts of things all the time when I was little. Sort of a hobby. I was a pretty nervous kid and it helped me relax." He ran a hand through his hair. "I once made a magnetic grapple strong enough to hold Tammy – my little sister – up. Of course, that was before my powers started... and I don't really need that kind of thing anymore."

Laurel sat down and took a look at what he'd been working on. "You've wanted to be a prelate since before the word was even in the media, haven't you? I mean, I don't think you just wanted a grapple launcher just to torment your sister."

"She liked playing the guinea pig, actually." Warrick smiled at the memory. "Until she got old enough to try the same thing on me." He stared straight ahead for a moment. "I wonder how she's been getting along... you know, without me. She was upset about the idea of me going off to school. Me being gone for this long must..." He shut his mouth with an audible clack, but the thought was still in his head.

"You'll see her again." Laurel reassured. "It's only a matter of time before we figure something out."

"Let's, uh, not talk about this anymore." Warrick said, picking up his book bag and letting the tentacles extract the heavy book. "We need to deal with this thing right now. Morganna was pretty confident she could deal with me with it."

Laurel traced the inward spiraling triangle that was pressed into the leather cover of the book. "Then why did she leave it?"

"The thug in the black powered armor – she called him Sky Tyrant – he shot her and she dropped it. Then she sort of fixated on him and his suit. She's freaky. Kind of like a kid with no attention span."

One of Laurel's many computer screens sprang to life of its own volition and Kareem's image appeared. The rosy haze of the Astral Plane rippled strangely around him. "I do not mean to interrupt." Kareem apologized, "but a strange phenomenon is occurring on the Astral Plane."

"Another astral storm?" Laurel asked, wheeling her chair over to the screen. "We just found out Morganna's active again and she may be using whatever magic that caused the original ones again."

"It is not the same." Kareem shook his head. "Where I compared the original storms to a large object thrown into a pool, what is happening now is similar to a hard rain on the surface of the pool. Many, many small events are happening in rapid succession and it is having an effect on the integrity of the Astral itself."

"You're the expert on this subject, Kareem, what does that sort of thing mean? What could be causing it?" Laurel asked.

"I cannot speculate on what could be causing it, Ms. Brant. But I can already sense things on the Material Plane that I would not normally be able to. The interference is destabilizing the boundary between the two planes. I cannot imagine what far reaching effects this might..." he trailed off. "That book..."

Warrick blinked. "What, you've seen it before?"

"No, I have not. However, that book exists on the Astral Plane as well. And it looks very different from this side."

"I don't get it..." Warrick frowned.

"I don't expect you to, Warrick." Laurel explained. "Most people wouldn't. You see, the Astral Plane is a world of ambient energy – the energy that psionics with mental powers manipulate to affect other minds. Think of it like a dreamscape, except the dreams are made up of emotions. Physical things on this plane don't normally show up on the Astral."

She waited for Warrick to nod that he understood. "The only way things show up on the Astral is if they left an emotional impression on someone. The emotional echoes make a sort of shadow copy in the Astral. A lot of couples spent their honeymoons or romantic weekends at Freeland House, for example, so Freeland House shows up on the Astral." She picked up a stress ball from beside her main keyboard. "Things like this stress ball don't have Astral shadows because there's not enough emotion applied to it."

Kareem nodded. "But this book... it has a strong enough emotional resonance, that it is physically both in your world and this one. In fact, there is writing on the cover on this side... It says 'The Book of Reason'"

"Reason's never been Morganna's strong suit." Warrick said, "Is this thing to make her less... whack-job? Or maybe it's like a spell book? I mean she is like some medieval spellcaster, right?"

"I wouldn't rule anything out when it comes to her." Laurel said, "But you should leave that to me. For now, I'm more concerned that she's out on the prowl again. I want you to go back into town and fill Cyn and Juniper in on what's going on."

"Wouldn't it be easier to call them?"

"Safety in numbers, young Kaine." Laurel said sagely. "call them on the way, but I want Lifesavers, Inc at full strength if Morganna shows up again." She looked over at Kareem's image on the computer. "Meanwhile, Kareem, would you be so kind as to help me study this book? Since we know Morganna can manipulate the Astral, there maybe something more to it's presence on the Astral Plane than simple emotional resonance."

"Of course, Ms. Brant. Anything I can do to help." Kareem said.

"Great. Let's get on it then. There's not telling what that woman is up to."

***

"We have signal." Rick Charlotte's voice said. "No visuals yet, but diagnostics are coming in now, sir." There was a pause. "Something's not right though. Some of these systems are reading at over one hundred percent capacity."

"I don't really give a damn about readings, Charlotte; just find out what the hell that little bitch Farnsworth did to my expensive machinery." Liedecker snapped.

Scuff groaned and rolled over on his stomach. His body hurt all over, like severe sunburn. "I'm..." He groaned, getting up onto his knees. "Uh, sir. I think I need a doctor before..." He stopped, opening his eyes.

He was still in the factory. It was still dark, lit only by candles, meaning he had either been unconscious a very short time or a very long time. A few wisps of acrid smoke drifted up from the pentacle burned in the floor around him. Then it hit him – he was in his flight suit and nothing else.

"Visuals are back." Rick noted. "Singer, stop panning the cameras so fast, I can't get any clean visuals."

Ignoring the odd statement, Scuff grit his teeth. "The armor's gone." He said bitterly. "The bitch took it." Breathing hard, he looked around. "Where are you anyway?"

"What in the hell are you talking about, Singer?" Liedecker demanded.

Realization dawned on Scuff. Rick and Liedecker weren't in the room. But if the armor was gone, so were its communications systems and headset. "How can I hear them?" He asked himself aloud.

"In the... the Old World," Morganna appeared from the shadows. "They... they used it to bind man and beast. A curse. Today, they call it lycanthropy." Her eyes shone with glee as she discussed the only subject that mattered to her. "I used it to bind man and machine."

"What the hell is she on about?" Rick asked. Now Scuff knew that he was hearing the communication in his head. The armor wasn't gone; it was part of him now.

"You've got the address, Charlotte, send someone there right goddamn now, you hear me?" Liedecker ordered.

Scuff froze. Not because he was afraid, or surprised, but because Morganna was in his head again, forcing him to. She sauntered over to him and with her mystically enhanced strength, lifted him to his feet.

Morganna let Scuff stand on his own and ran a finger down his arm. She knew what he was thinking. "Yes, Sky Tyrant. It is inside you now. In pieces... pieces on the Astral Plane. Call it." She squeezed his arm and there was a blinding flash of sensation. Rosy colored light spilled forth and familiar black armor encased Scuff's arm. Surprisingly, he could still feel the heat of Morganna's hand through it.

He shivered. "I'm some kind of were-cyborg now?" His teeth ground and he was suddenly free of Morganna's mind.

"You are more." Morganna smiled like a delighted child. "Stronger. Better. All for showing him this place."

"Mr. Singer?" Liedecker growled in his head. "New plan. Kill the bitch, please."

"Yes sir." Scuff affirmed. The whole of the Sky Tyrant armor emerged from the Astral, ensconcing him completely. Without hesitation, he slammed his palm full force into Morganna's chest, tossing her back into a wall.

Laughing, she retrieved a feather from her bag and reactivated her winged flight spell. She took to the air just ahead of a scorching blast from Sky Tyrant's plasma lance.

"Once more... again. Follow." Morganna laughed, flying out the broken skylight.

Roaring with anger, Scuff took to the skies. Fury nearly blinded him. He had been changed, transformed into something inhuman. All that he was demanded vengeance and the 'gift' Morganna had given him was the perfect instrument to attain it. He pushed his flight systems to the maximum, barreling after his 'creator' into downtown Mayfield.

##

##

## Legacy of One (Part 4)

Morganna banked sharply, narrowly avoiding another shot from Sky Tyrant's plasma lance. She had led him on a merry chase back and forth over the city and between its buildings. Their flight had attracted the attention of the whole of Mayfield; sirens wailed on the streets below and they occasionally crossed paths with police air patrols and news helicopters, both of which weren't nearly agile enough to keep up with them.

And yet, she hadn't attracted the response she had hoped for. "Where... are they?" she muttered aloud. Everything she had learned about psionics pointed to a group of powerful ones that supposedly protected the city; Life Savers, Inc. Thus, she had concluded that that she needed only to endanger the city to draw them out. But even leading the enraged Sky Tyrant in a wild firefight across the city hadn't done the trick.

Below, she spied the West Truman Bridge, spanning the St. Anne River and connecting northern Mayfield to the industrial southern end. She smiled while dodging a burst from the Tesla Arc. Perhaps she merely needed a proper arena to orchestrate her battle.

***

"I'm really sorry we got cut short." Juniper was saying to Kay as the other girl boarded a bus with Lisa. "We'll hang out tomorrow after school to talk about those new songs, okay?"

"Good plan." Kay said. "See you all tomorrow then. Tell Ms. Brant I said to feel better." She waved as the bus door closed. Lisa waved to them from one of the windows.

"The only person that's sick is me." Cyn grumbled, watching the bus pull away. "Sick of that lunatic dictating our lives." She folded her arms indignantly. "You know what we should do? We should suit up and go after her."

Warrick and Juniper blinked at her in surprise.

"No, seriously, think about it; she's probably out looking for that book right now – if that Sky Tyrant guy hasn't taken her out already. She wouldn't expect us to hunt her instead of the other way around."

"But Mr. Smythe and Ms. Keyes barely stopped her last time." Juniper pointed out. "Not that I don't have faith in our powers..."

"You never use your powers." Cyn interjected.

"I do when it's necessary." Juniper calmly replied. "What I was saying though, is that I'm wondering what we can do with her once we do catch up to her? Local police have enough trouble detaining psionics, let alone ancient sorcerers."

"Technically she's a sorceress." Warrick said thoughtfully, ignoring the glare from Cyn. "Anyway, she may be easier to shut down than a psionic. She seems to need to use magic words and hand movement to do most of the impressive stuff. Plus, if she's anything like a wizard from a book or a game, she's going to need magic ingredients to do anything really long lasting."

"We're using roleplaying games as viable intelligence sources now?" Cyn raised any eyebrow.

"Why not? She's literally using magic spells and what I'm pretty sure is a spell book, so why can't this be true too?"

"He has a point." Juniper said.

Cyn sighed. "Fine, so she'd Gandalfina the Black. How does that help the 'what to do with her afterward' problem?"

"Simple." Warrick said. "We take away her toys and—"

He was cut off by the scream of a siren. A Mayfield PD air patrol cruiser roared overhead, its red and blues flashing brightly. It was followed almost immediately by a second and then a third.

What could that be about?" Juniper asked, "You hardly even see one air patrol in a day..."

"We'll know in a second..." Cyn said, fishing a thumb sized rectangular device from her purse.

"Since when do you have a police scanner?" Warrick asked as he was handed an earpiece.

"Seemed like good standard equipment for a defender of the city." Cyn shrugged, handing Juniper a second earpiece. "You never know when you'll need—"

"Ms. Keyes!" Juniper said, looking up and waving. The black convertible had just stopped at the light across from them. Ian was in the passenger seat. "She's already stopped Morganna once; she may have an idea on how to do it again."

"No way." Cyn shook her head. "If she finds out about us, it's the end of Life Saver's, Inc."

Warrick was already headed for the car. "But Juniper's right, Cyn. She and Mr. Smythe know more about how to deal with her than we do and they never told us many details about what happened with the Ape Knight. They're our best chance to stop her."

Cyn narrowed her eyes and followed, flipping on her scanner.

***

Ian had spent most of the evening trying not to gawk. Alexis looked absolutely beautiful in the white dress she had changed into. He felt extremely underdressed in his ratty sport coat. He frowned down at himself. He had been forced to buy a whole new wardrobe upon arrival in Mayfield; even the clothes he'd worn that night had been shredded and bloodied by Prometheus. How, he wondered, was it even possible for his coat to have become so worn looking in that time.

"That was actually a lot of fun." Alexis said, not noticing his self inventory. "The _Overwhelming_ franchise was my favorite way back when – who'd have thought it'd be up to six movies by now?"

"I wouldn't have." Ian replied. "It sort of tanked in _Overwhelming IV_ , when they killed off Alice to prove the villain was evil."

"Wait, Alice was in the movie we just watched..."

"It's complicated, but she got resurrected in the fifth movie, _Vessel of God_. That's why she was all goodness and light to everyone in this one.

"Well, I'm glad she's back in any event." Alexis shrugged. "I'm really glad we ended up going out, I really needed that." She slowed to a stop at a red light. "And you were right, I was so concerned about the kids, I wasn't really myself. I'll try and keep things more... balanced from now on."

"But not tonight, apparently." Ian sighed.

"What do you mean? Weren't we..." Alexis looked up to see Cyn nearly run into the side of the car and start pounding on the passenger window. Warrick and Juniper weren't far behind.

"—got big, big trouble." Cyn was saying when the window came down. She thrust her hand through the open window and clicked on the speaker on her police scanner, allowing the squawking noise of the police communications into the car.

"—down! Repeat unit twelve is down and not responding, control. The bridge is blockaded. Repeat, we have an unidentified psionic engaging an individual in unregistered, custom armor on the West Truman Bridge. Officers down. There are civilians still on the bridge and a blockade preventing ground units—"Cyn clicked the device off.

"It's Morganna." She said gravely.

"Get in." Alexis said sharply.

"But—"Warrick started.

"The West Truman Bridge is all the way across town." Alexis explained as the youths piled into the back of the car. "It's going to be a pain getting there even with Laurel giving us all green lights."

"We're going to go fight her?" Juniper asked, more surprised than pensive.

"She isn't giving us much choice." Ian said before Alexis could think about what she had just said. "A lot of innocent people are in danger and the police honestly can't handle Morganna."

"Well, it started out as a pleasant evening on the town." Alexis frowned, putting in a call to Laurel.

"Wait, you two are dating?" Cyn and asked.

***

Scuff breathed hard through his nose. The thick smoke had forced him to land just to see where he was going. Morganna hadn't fought back the entire time he'd chased her but upon sighting the bridge, she had called down the fury.

The deck of the suspension bridge was in disarray, holes gouged out of it from spell-fire, strewn with hastily abandoned cars. Shouts and screams from somewhere beyond the wall of smoke told Scuff that the occupants of those cars hadn't been able to escape the bridge.

"What? Are you going to hide behind hostages now?" Scuff snarled, using his external speakers to amplify his voice. "It won't save you. I'll just go through them to get to you, bitch."

"I don't... don't want you anymore." Morganna's voice came though the haze. Now without her wings, she was standing on top of a car that had crashed into a guardrail. "This... this is for them. They will come."

"First, you were after 'him', now you're after 'them'." Scuff mocked. "I don't think even you know what the hell you're talking about." He raised his machine gun. There was a whir and a click, but nothing happened. He was out of ammo for the machine gun. Now that he thought of it, he became aware that his plasma lance fuel was low as well and Liedecker hadn't allowed Gear to load his missile racks.

"You already let... him know." Morganna chuckled. "He's... he's watching right now. Watching through your eyes. Maybe now... he understands."

"Well I'll be damned." Liedecker growled through the com link now in Scuff's head. "She's talking about me. That brain dead, half baked little wench has been playing with me! She's keeping still now, Singer. Finish her off!"

"He'll... he'll go and see it for himself..." Morganna smiled, watching Scuff level his plasma lance. "the magic... it is power beyond his dreams."

Scuff charged the shot to full before firing. With infinite calm, Morganna tossed a handful of pennies into the air and spoke a word of power. Arcs of red energy reflected off each penny as it hovered in the air before her. The shot from the plasma lance pierced the cloud of energized coinage and began to rebound within, like an animal caged.

"Interesting weapon." Morganna motioned and a imprisoned bolt leapt out to catch the Sky Tyrant squarely in the chest, knocking him backward into the side of an SUV. "I... I will harness it once I have the psionics."

"Psionics? What the hell? Why are you after psionics?" Scuff demanded. "And what does that have to do with what you did to me!?"

"Everything!" Morganna screeched. She took some flower pedals out of her bag and threw them into the air. A stiff wind began to kick up, drawing the smoke back from the bridge like a curtain.

Groaning, Scuff felt Morganna once more invade his mind and was compelled to activate his flight systems. He flew up and could now get a clear look at the bridge. Either end was sealed off by a tangle of thorny vines, some as thick around as his thigh. People, those caught on the bridge when Morganna had attacked, were huddled together in fear in the shadow of one of the towers. "Why the are you doing this?" Scuff asked, straining hopelessly against Morganna's control.

"They... they will come." Morganna said. "They have to come. To protect... the people. From you." She asserted her control on him fully once more and he began to charge the Tesla Arc, aiming at the frightened citizens.

Bullets rained down from above. Two police air patrols poured everything they had into the Sky Tyrant, forcing it to the ground.

"No!" Morganna screamed, sending her invisible knives to slash at the aircraft. One was out of range, but the second was close enough for her to sever its fuel line. It whined as it began to lose altitude.

***

"We've got to do something!" Cyn cried, watching the police vehicle crash land on the bridge deck. The convertible was a few blocks from the bridge, as close as the traffic would allow. "She's going to kill everyone on that bridge.

Alexis chewed her lip. She couldn't allow that. But she also couldn't drag the kids into it. Sighing heavily, she opened the roof. "Ian, keep an eye on them." She said, unbuckling her seatbelt. "I'm going to go after Morganna alone." With that, she activated her black heat and flew from the car.

"Wait," Cyn frowned. "She's going to go save the day, but we're not allowed to?"

"Like hell." Ian said, turning around to the kids. "Warrick, Juniper can you use your powers at this range?" They both nodded. "Good, get ready to. She can't get mad if no one actually sees you using them."

"What about me?" Cyn demanded.

"You and I are going to have to sit this one out." Ian said.

***

Morganna frowned at the devastation she had wrought. The other police vehicle was circling around, buffeted too strongly by her mystic wind to take a proper shot. Satisfied that it was no longer a threat, she turned her attention back to the Sky Tyrant.

"Now... let us try this..." Hissing motes of black heat stung her skin, breaking her concentration. "You!" she exclaimed, spotting the woman shaped void that was the source of the attack.

"Me." Alexis affirmed. "You remember me from last time, don't you?"

Morganna grinned malevolently. "Finally. I have waited for you... you and the others. Abominations. Monsters. I will end you and make your power mine!" She reached into her bag. "Behold, the—"Her hand failed to close on what she was seeking. "No..." she murmured. "No, no, no! The book!" She began rummaging in the bag frantically as Alexis dove toward her.

The two women collided, Morganna's bag spilling its contents over the concrete.

"No!" Morganna shrieked, kicking Alexis away and scrambling on her hands and knees to pick up some of her fallen reagents. Her fingers stopped a fraction of an inch away from them – they were encased in a solid crust of ice. "What... what is—"Something hit her from behind, sending her sprawling head first into the side of a pickup truck. A trio of propane tanks rattled in the bed.

She turned to see that one of the cables from the bridge had animated, whipping the air, attempting to strike at her.

"It looks like I've got a little help." Alexis said, standing up from where she had landed. "This is how it ends, Morganna. Without your little spell casting kit, there's not a lot of options left." She took a step forward. "We both know your stolen psionic power won't work on me." She bluffed the last part, praying Morganna wouldn't call her on it."

"No." a tired, angry voice said. The pickup was lifted jerkily into the air. The Sky Tyrant's black visored face seemed to glare at Morganna. " _This_ is how it ends."

"Wait, we can't kill her." Alexis pointed out. "That'd make us as bad as her."

"Correction." The Sky Tyrant's speakers barked. "You can't kill her. But she already made me just as bad as her." With that, he hurled to half ton vehicle at the sorceress. Morganna had tried to leap clear, but Scuff had flung the truck laterally instead of downward. It clipped her at the knees and the momentum threw her into the bed. The truck turned missile sailed between the bridge cables before plunging toward the St. Anna River below.

Roaring in victory, Scuff flew over to the edge of the bridge deck, charging the Tesla Arc. "Now die!"

The next few moments seemed to move in slow motion. Alexis threw herself at Sky Tyrant, screaming as blue electricity flooded form his weapon and into the falling truck. She slammed into him, knocking him to the ground, just as the propane tanks ignited. As the fireball blossomed up to devour her, she was taken off her own feet by a golden figure with wings. The fire never touched her, but the shockwave knocked her out.

##

##

## Legacy of One (Part 5)

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?" Laurel fussed as she and Alexis entered the workshop.

"Yes, mom." Alexis rolled her eyes playfully. "Melissa healed me back to pristine condition. Though the side effect is that I've been ravenous all morning."

"Oh, I can tell." Laurel smirked, heading over to her favorite chair. "Between you and Cyn, a small army has been deprived of food this day."

Alexis chuckled a bit, and then sat down nearby. "So, any news from the bridge?"

"Not a bit." The dark skinned woman said, "And that's what worries me. Sky Tyrant going missing is to be expected—modern cloaking technology and all. However, there's been no sign of Morganna in the wreckage."

"So she's still out there?"

"Hard to say." Laurel frowned. Kareem told me there was another massive astral storm at the time of the explosion; bigger than any of the previous ones. That would suggest that Morganna tried to shift into the Astral Plane physically. Since the storm was bigger..."

"You think she was too late." Alexis interrupted. "That the explosion followed her in."

"It's quite possible." Laurel said. "Though I won't be able to tell for sure until we investigate the Astral Plane at the point of the breech."

"Doesn't that involve astral projection and staying close to your unconscious body? Even if we were capable of it, I doubt that the local authorities will be thrilled to have a boat full of prostrate bodies floating on their river."

"True." Laurel said, "But we already know someone who is astrally projected."

"Kareem?" Alexis blinked, "But he's still subject to the problem with staying close to your body."

"But not, apparently, the problem of spending extended periods out of it." Laurel said with a gleam in her eye. "He's willing to test some theories..."

Alexis knew better than to get caught discussing concepts she didn't understand. "Speaking of Kareem, he told me that Warrick found the book Morganna was planning to use on us?"

"Headache of the century, I'm afraid." Laurel shook her head. "It's written in archaic French... on the Astral Plane. I'm working with Kareem to scan it all to file format, but from what I'm seeing... it's like nothing I've ever seen before. It's based on some kind of medieval Zen training with mind/body elements that make the most advanced martial arts look like finger painting."

"Considering that this is coming from the woman that's learned six different martial arts over the course of a summer, I'm feeling pretty confident in our resident genius figuring out what that was supposed to do and making sure it doesn't... do... that." Alexis stumbled over her words, making both of them laugh.

***

Cyn made it a point to bang her lunch tray forcefully onto the cafeteria table.

"Another bad day?" Warrick asked, closing his sketch book and stowing his pencil behind his ear.

"Miserable." Cyn groused, sitting down. "Not only has nothing gotten better in my classes, but everyone's talking about the new prelate that fought the two psychos on the West Truman Bridge last night." Even in her bitterness, Cyn managed to put her thoughts into terms that wouldn't implicate her as knowing who those involved were. "They're calling her Void-storm. And it seems the smoke kept the channel 5 news chopper from getting footage of Facsimile saving her life."

"Void-storm?" Warrick smirked, "Wow, that's just horrible." Cyn didn't look amused. "In any event, I'm sure Facsimile would just be happy that... er... Void-storm is okay. Plus, she realizes that being a prelate isn't about being famous."

"It's a pretty good perk." Cyn frowned, more at the disappointment she perceived in his voice than anything else. "Plus, it's only fair she gets credit where credit is due."

Kay interrupted them, sitting down with her brown bagged lunch. "Afternoon, my fellow paper miners." She grinned.

"Hey, Kay." Cyn said, switching subjects. "Sorry again about us having to leave last night."

Kay shook her head. "Don't worry about it. You guys must be really close to Ms. Brant to go home to look after your apartment manager."

"Laurel's a really nice person." Cyn said truthfully. "It's the least we could do after what she does for us." She looked over Kay's shoulder, spotting something that made her glare.

"Trouble?" Warrick asked, following her gaze.

"Lilly Goldenmeyer and her flock." Cyn said flatly, indicating a tall brunette, flanked by four others. All were wearing the exact same powder blue outfit. "Honestly, how is 'conserv' even a fashion if they all wear the exact same thing as one another every day?"

"I think that's the point." Kay said, glancing back at them as they glided across the cafeteria floor in their general direction. "They're not even hardcore about it. In the magazines, they even wear the same hair style."

"Every day, in every conceivable way, I wake up thanking God I don't know this stuff." Warrick groaned.

The self styled hyper-conformists altered their path to intercept that of Elizabeth von Stoker and the young man walking with her. As they passed, Lilly pretended to stumble, elbowing Elizabeth's tray out of her hands and onto the floor. Upon seeing this, the entire little gang stopped and laughed.

"Next time, watch where you're going, freak!" Lilly smirked, as Elizabeth knelt to pick up her fallen items. When this didn't draw a response, she kicked the tray, sending what didn't spill to the floor to join the rest.

"Hey!" Leave my sister alone!" the young man with Elizabeth snarled, moving to block another move against his sibling.

"Now do you see why I hate them?" Cyn growled, watching the scene.

"Yeah." Warrick said, standing up.

"Er, Kaine..." Kay asked, "You can't exactly go over there and kick their asses." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "No matter how awesome that would be."

Warrick didn't say anything. He just walked over to where Lilly and her gaggle of friends were verbally berating Elizabeth's brother.

"This should be good." Cyn said.

"If you hate them so much, why aren't you doing anything?" Kay asked.

"I'm more of a schemer than an overt kind of person." Cyn replied quickly. "When I get back at them, it'll be at the end of a needlessly complicated plot. Until then, Warrick can take care of the 'defending the weak' shtick. He's really good at it."

Meanwhile, Warrick stepped up between two of Lilly's friends. "Well, I think they've learned their lesson." He said. He noticed Elizabeth's brother was wearing a shirt with the logo of the science fiction television show _Planet Zero_. "Dude!" He said, cutting off whatever Lilly had been saying, "Seriously that was an awesome show. Did you see the TV movie they did for it?"

Elizabeth's brother blinked, confusion playing on his darkly tanned face.

"Sorry." Warrick said, maneuvering himself in front of Lilly, who was trying to speak again, and extending his hand. "The name is Kaine. Warrick Kaine to be specific."

"Uh... Rich von Stoker." Elizabeth's brother hesitantly shook the offered hand.

"Excuse me!" Lilly shouted, trying to step around Warrick.

"So anyway, did you ever see the 2060 version of _Blue Dawn_? _Planet Zero's_ pilot totally ripped it off."

"I... no, actually, I never saw that." Rich said, starting to catch on. His sister finished picking up the things that were salvageable from her tray and blinked at Warrick through a cascade of black bangs.

"Now look here!" Lilly shrilled, grabbing Warrick's shoulder. She jumped back at least a foot when he suddenly rounded on her.

"Excuse me?" Warrick said, laying his Brooklyn accent on thicker than it ever was normally. "I'm trying to have a conversation with my new pal Rich here and you keep rudely interrupting." He gave her a withering look. "Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you; putting your hands on people like that. It's not civil at all, you know." He took a step toward her as the blue clad instigator stepped back. "You don't even know me... hell; you don't even know Rich and Liz either. So why don't you just mind your business?"

Lilly's eyes seemed to expand two sizes. Not many people managed to catch her off guard and she wasn't prepared to vary her usual tactics for browbeating people into submission. "Uh..."

"Thought so." Warrick shrugged, turning back to Rich. "So, like I was saying; _Planet Zero_ was fun and all, but they ripped off everyone."

Looking back at her equally taken aback followers, Lilly sniffed. "Come on." She growled and strode away in a huff.

"Thanks for that, I guess." Rich said, "Though I probably could have handled it."

"You shouldn't have to." Warrick shrugged. "They mess with my friend over there too and she shouldn't have to put up with that kind of crap either. I'm just sorry someone had to do that."

"That was nice of you." Elizabeth said with a slight smile. "Thanks."

"Anytime." Warrick said, heading back toward his table.

"See?" Cyn said to Kay. "Now he's a hero to all the poor picked on geeks of the school. We get all the perks of being his friend and get none of the responsibility."

"That's clever and underhanded." Kay said, "you were right about being a schemer." She made a false bow. "Teach me your ways, Master."

Cyn grinned and took a bite out of her apple. "Stick with us, Kay, and this year is going to be way better than it started."

***

The men taking visual records of the factory office that had been Morganna's lair worked extra cautiously. The strange symbols and ritualistic elements weren't what bothered them. They were used to documenting murder scenes and cleaning them up. However, the presence of Vincent Liedecker in the flesh had them completely on edge.

He and Brill stood in the center of the room, watching the hired help set up three dimensional imaging equipment and taking measurements. Liedecker looked almost casual in shirtsleeves and a fedora atop his head.

"Get my real estate people on the phone, Brill." He said, leaning over to inspect a still bubbling flask. "I expect to own this place in the next twenty four hours."

"Y-yes sir." Brill said, eyeing the room warily as he extricated his cell phone.

Meanwhile, Liedecker opened his notebook computer and opened his video link with Rick Charlotte. "You getting all this, Charlotte?"

"Every bit, sir, but it doesn't really make much sense right now. Background radiation and EM fields are fluctuating wildly within a small variance... like a plucked guitar string..."

"English, Charlotte." Liedecker demanded. "What was Farnsworth doing in here?"

"No idea, sir." Rick said nervously. "What I was just talking about? It's the kind of reading you'd get near a fully operational weapons installation during a firing sequence."

"I will note," Liedecker sneered, "That there are no lasers flying around the place."

"No lasers, sir, but something is causing energy to fluctuate in there – rapidly, from one state to another – maybe from one object or another. The instruments don't lie, sir."

"So all this funny writing, all the occult symbols, the candles, the little fuzzy animals—they're generating some kind of energy? Usable energy?"

"Usable if you figure out how to use it." Rick affirmed. "I know it makes no sense, but—"

"Charlotte, Kevin Singer is now a cybernetic werewolf. I think we took leave of anything resembling 'sense' the second she cut up my men at that museum, don't you?" Liedecker picked up a crystal that was glowing softly.

"Er... Calvin Singer, sir. And I don't think—"

"Are you correcting me, Charlotte? That is a very dangerous damn thing to do, you understand?" Liedecker growled.

"Yes sir, sorry sir. Singer is Gear Callahan's problem anyway. I understand you promised him a cure for his condition in exchange for his service?" Rick changed the subject quickly.

"I promised to 'try' and find one, Charlotte. Try being the operative word there. He's a powerful living weapon now – and the Sky Tyrant armor was already a substantial investment—of course, I made a promise to keep him in line." Liedecker chuckled, turning the crystal over in his hand. He tossed it back down on the table and was shocked to see it flare red, burning a gouge in the desk top.

Blinking in disbelief at what he'd just seen, he only needed a few moments to see the potential there; a weapon that was heretofore undetectable by conventional weapon scanners. That alone was worth looking into whatever bizarre thing Farnsworth was engaged in.

***

Not far from the astral version of the West Truman Bridge, the Astral boiled. In that place, it had never quite settled after the explosion that had rocked it. The occasional flicker of a Material Plane fish darted within the writhing caldron of astral energy. The moment the fish caught even the briefest of glimpses at the roiling sea of rosy light, it flitted away to a safer part of the river.

Nothing smarter than a fish even neared it, shying away by hidden instinct that let higher orders of life; snakes, turtles, birds and even humans, know that in that direction lay danger.

Except for the occasional fish or insect, none drew close enough to realize that occupying that place allowed a view seldom seen by those not capable of astral projection. If they did, they would have noticed an almost insignificant dot of light, no larger than an eyelash—where the omnipresent rose color gave way to verdant green.

End Issue #7

#

#

# The Adventure Continues!

If you enjoyed WE COULD BE HEROES (THE DESCENDANTS, #1)

Keep an eye out for

TOME ATTACKS (THE DESCENDANTS, #2)

by Landon Porter

The Psionics Training and Application Academy was founded with the promise of teaching psionics, people born with superhuman powers, to apply their abilities toward the good of all people. But in reality, they were merely a front to kidnap and experiment on the most powerful among them.

One group discovered the truth. And they've just uncovered the long, harrowing history that led to it.

But even so armed, the tiny group of psionics living in Mayfield, Virginia; in hiding from the Academy's forces, is plagued with internal conflict as well. They'll have to settle their differences before it tears them apart—or before the sinister Project Tome and their cybernetic hellhounds, the inugami do...

Collects Issues #8-12, Descendants Special #1, and Descendants Annual #1 of the web serial The Descendants by Landon Porter.

You can also follow the ongoing adventures of Our Heroes as well as the larger Descendants Universe every Monday and Wednesday at descendantsserial.com

# Also by Landon Porter

Rune Breaker

A Girl and Her Monster

Lighter Days, Darker Nights

The Path of Destruction

Evil Unto Evil

The Complete Saga (Collection)

Soul Battery

City of Bards (Coming Soon)

Tales From the World of Ere [Short Stories]

Rakne's Tale: Hearing of Grievances) (Coming Soon)

Issacor's Tale: Live by the Sword (Coming Soon)

The Descendants

We Could Be Heroes

Tome Attacks

The Complete Volume 1 (Coming Soon)

The Devil Came Down To Mayfield (Coming Soon)

# About the Author

Landon Porter is a proud geek who enjoys comic books, roleplaying, and gaming. He knows a d20 from 2d10, the Konami Code and why Pi Day is March 14. A fan of all things Fantasy and Sci-Fi, he's been writing about them on the web since 2002 and has been telling stories since before he could write

His best known works are the superhero web fiction series, 'The Descendants' and the dungeonpunk fantasy Rune Breaker.

An avid fan of Fantasy, Science Fiction, Roleplaying Games and Superhero comics, his works tend to mix and blend tropes from each into new an original creations.

His writing philosophy heavily emphasizes themes of family, hope and redemption, rejecting the idea that works must be bleak and dark to be realistic and meaningful.

If you would like to be alerted about new releases and projects by Landon Porter, sign up for his free newsletter, or follow him on Twitter @ParadoxOmni. Also, check out descendantsserial.com for more work from Landon Porter.
