Shades Die Twice (Shade Reborn)

The lights flashed as Alistair walked in his suit. His arm was raised as he smiled, waving to the people as they lined the sidewalk. For a politician he was brace, fearless and despite numerous assassination attempts on his life, he was always willing to be before the public. His instructions were clear, the head of security wished him to go directly to the car, and make no detour. Of course he would not listen to such a request. He could hear dhte protests of the security from the other end of his ear piece, but they wasted their breath. Alistair may have held an esteemed political office, yet he was so much a part of the people. He immediately deviated course as we walked over to a reporter and smiled. He reached out and placed a hand on the man’s shoulder.

”Remi, it’s been a long time. Good to see you!” he said with a laugh. Despite the fact that Remi always seemed to run smear articles and twist his words, he made a point to return to him. He used Remi as a reminder to everyone that opposition was “safe” and tolerated by him. If you questioned him he was always willing to take the time to answer your concerns.

”Hello Mr.Secretary. Care to make a comment on the rumors that you’ve no longer been delivering your reports directly to The President himself?”

”I’m not sure the nature of these rumors or their origin, but they sound rather insidious. My report is STILL directly given to the President of the United States. However with the threat on my life, through the terrorist cell known as the Equalizers, I’ve now defaulted to passing my reports through electronic communication. A special thank-you to the citizens who saved my life that night. The Charlatan and The Stoic have truly made us reconsider our views on vigilante justice and our approach to handling it.” He sounded genuinely appreciative at his last segment, the way he let out a sigh of relief and seemed to wipe at his brow a little, nodding and giving a brief wave to the camera.

” Well I’m sure you’re certainly grateful. The Vigilante Reformation Act is something many people are watching with great anticipation. But Mr.Secretary, don’t you think this is a potential hazard, allowing these reports to be out there with metahuman that have proven to be capable of retrieving information and classified information with ease? ” The question was a fair one, and one that Alistair had thought of before. It was definitely a risk, but it was a calculated one. He needed to find a way to place people at ease about this, and now. He nodded and seemed to enter a moment of thought as his eyebrows furrowed. Then he gave his response.

”Many of these metahumans that you speak of are more than welcome to come up to me and ask for the contents of my report. Some information is classified, however I have not changed in my 3 years in my position. I have absolutely nothing to hide, and our relations with foreign governments is improving.” He wasn’t even entirely finished and he was cut off. The comment of foreign relations seemed to make the trigger-happy reporter jump like a ravenous bear on fresh salmon.

”But the people are still afraid of the threat of Belarus-” Alistair could feel his eyes wanting to turn red with anger, he felt his skin almost flush as his jaw tensed for a moment. Normally he would handle it with grace and poise, but this time he didn’t have the patience to deal with it. He cut the reporter off in kind.

”Remi I don’t have time for anti-metahuman rhetoric and propaganda.” He said as he looked from the reporter directly to the camera, a faux-pas to the press and an attempt to reach the people of his great nation. ”Belarus is of no threat to the United States or our way of life. They are a war-torn and unstable nation who recently experienced a shift in leadership. The current Leadership, Prime Minister Alba has been incredibly forthright with his stance on Metahumans and the state of equality throughout his country, as well as an intense desire to reform trade and establish mutually beneficial connections throughout the world. He is NOT a terrorist, he is a visionary that has expressed a deep desire to work alongside the United States. He has been open to constructive criticism from not only his constituents, but from our officials as well. Too often do we see these nations as different from ourselves. These are people, just like you and I. People who have suffered injustice and hatred their entire lives. It’s our god-given privilege to help end the suffering of good people of any nations, ethnicity or monetary constraints.” He had concluded, before turning back to the reporter, seeming to now realize he had been on quite the rant. He laughed a little as he started to step off to the side. He had attempted to appeal to the feelings of the people. Most of them didn’t think logically, they delt and dabbled in their feelings far too much. Even those who logically followed the political scape would eventually conclude that Alistair was correct. It was a powerful new ally that the United States could depend on for future endeavours.

”I’m so sorry I have to press on, I’ll get you again next time!”
He said with a charming smile and a genuine wave as he stepped down the line to the next reported, giving them a few moments of their time.

With each reporter it became clear that he seemed to remember each and every reporter that had interviewed him before, or had even remotely asked him questions once upon a time. He had a way with people, a base understanding that seemed to play on their own sense of ego, even when they were an objective and stone cold stoic. He seemed to have a way to melt through and with a personable twinkle in his eye he answered every question with an honesty that was nearly unquestionable. He was a politician that didn’t feel like a true politician, he took responsibility for what he said, he apologized when he was wrong, he didn’t read notes or deflect blame. He had a sincerity that was genuinely uncommon. Eventually he disappeared from the cameras and into a long outstretched black car, a wave as he wished everyone a wonderful evening.

The black limousine cruises quietly through the night, the pitch black of the night sky embracing the dark automobile as its own as it left the city. The only signs of light were two peering orbs from the front end, igniting a small cone of light to reveal the pathway. The engine hummed silently as the only true noise to be heard had been the car’s tires rolling and uplifting the graveled road. He found himself in a long stretch of a car ride, several hours in fact. His driver did not stop, did not blink and did not even swerve once. But that was exactly what he had suspected, as he could still feel the weak thudding of the man’s heart within his chest.

A fifteen hour drive concluded, placing him on the outskirts of New Orleans in about 15 hours. The car pulled into a vast, dark landscape that seemed to cast strange shadows as the cityscape lights behind seemed to peer through. A large circular device with several spoked in all directions. Curved edges with lines connecting them to the ground as it weaved all throughout the next mile radius. A small set of dilapidated buildings still stood and the stale ground was covered with picnic tables, trash bins and other booths where prizes once hung. There, in the center was a large hole in the ground, several large fragments of metal seemed to be scattered across the ground, remnant fuselage from an aircraft seemed to remain, though the hole seemed to extend ever downward.

The luxury vehicle’s power died as the ignition was turned off, and the lights seemed to fade away, surrendering the world around them to the darkness. The car opened, and soon the well suited man would rise from the vehicle, placing a fedora on his head and pulling a dark woolen coat over his being in what appeared to be an attempt at warmth. He turned and began to look around, searching for some sign of life, or rather whatever he suspected to be the one in which he was to correspond with.

His phone began to ring, and though he was reluctant to look down, he eventually did so. The number he saw was labeled Damian. His collector of Souls was apparently attempting to contact him. He clicked the green button and placed the phone to his ear. His voice was not the same warm and comforting voice that the news and the public had heard. It was a more hushed voice, coarse and yet a little raspy. Not altogether inhuman, but definitely strained.

”If this is a call to retrieve your little toy from prison, I will be most disappointed.” He said, despite the difficulty in sensing emotion from his current voice, it was a slight bit of humor, a rare thing to escape his mouth. While he hardly judged Damian, he was also in the middle of pressing business, and he knew that his Collector could not have known that, so there was leniency there. That and he was admittedly more fund of Damian than he was the previous failures that he called Collectors.

Much had happened since The Black beast first appeared in their world. A cackling masked man, a monster that craved the death of this world and all that lived within. His home was attacked by a servant of a god who called themselves Deity and the return of a hero who now called himself Patriot. Standing on the outskirts of a blasted world, skeletal trees extending into the distance he chuckled to himself. ”It is back. So much for the endless hunger of The Black beast huh?”Nether laced winds lashed against his face, reeking of death and decay. He didn’t know what he was doing here now that he figured out the realm was still here but something prompted him to come here. A thought that dwelled within the back of his mind, moving him to do stupid things just like this. Was there even a point when the people who used to live here didn’t make themselves known?

A footstep scuffed within the ashen sand, Michael turning around with the intention to attack until he saw the face that was looking back at him. Black leathers, two onyx weapons strapped to her side and long flowing black hair as well as pulsing spiral runes across pale flesh. The only thing different was the fact she had one arm severed at the elbow, though that didn’t lessen her swagger. ”Has our lord Hyperion returned to grace us with his presence?” Sheiara questioned with a smirk, remaining hand resting on her hip.

”Not particularly interested in ruling over this shit hole.”

”Are you sure? I’m told it comes with so many perks, if you have the fortitude to handle it,” There was mockery in her voice, as if trying to get a rise from him. Mike bit his lower lip, quelling that knee jerk reaction. ”especially since that world you call home is no less doomed than it was before,”

”What’s dooming us this time? Deity and The Black Beast decide to shack up and attack at once on their honeymoon?” He snapped, letting some of the acidic annoying leak through into his words. That did nothing to make the woman shrink back from him, instead eliciting a laugh from her. For a second he thought she would draw a weapon though that didn’t happen.

”That fool is nothing to me nor my patron. A being with more power than he deserves playing at a god. I’m sure the weak mortals of your world can push him back. It’s practically preordained but I wonder if your world can do so without wearing itself out,” Questions, ones he had asked himself and  ones he didn’t want to answer.

”Easy for you right? Our kind have pillaged and drained so many worlds before. I imagine it’s easy to see when one is so vulnerable isn’t it?” Black birds circled overhead, bringing his attention to a star burnt out but alive enough to cast faint light over the land. Not that he imagined it did anything for the flora of The Abyss. ”you just serve another Abyssal One. More powerful than the last,” Michael shrugged, shifting the dust beneath his feet and fully considering her and the black veins that spread across her features. Something was different about the ti’taen woman than before but he couldn’t tell what. Perhaps she had the same mark he did.

”The strong know when to pounce upon the weak. You and I are the same in that regard. Perhaps you should stop denying it and give into your instincts Hyperion. You may look human but playing human doesn’t fit you. Even if it is to appease that family of yours, They’re only holding you back.”

”What’s it to you Sheiara?” Apprehension now.

”I was thinking I should free you of those restrictions,”

More anger, like fire burning within his gut.

Without even thinking he materialized a black one-handed sword and swung. There was a twenty-foot distance between them but all it took was him willing to be next to her and there he was, blade edge striking against her own. A keening cry of metal and crystal ringing through the wasteland air. ”Struck a nerve have I? Who knew that family of yours was such a weak spot of yours?” Without even thinking he raised his knee to block a kick meant fort his stomach, jarring force ripping through the bone and an audible crunch could be heard. Michael flew through the air, smashing through a few dead trees until one managed to catch him. Thick enough that he was just lodged in the wood.

”Don’t attack your allies Hyperion. I’m one of the few people that cares about you but I will not abide such disrespect. Unlike my last son, this time I won’t let you off with a simple banishing if you do so again,’ The plateau he was standing on looked to be hundreds of feet away, which meant she sent him flying a good distance, though that didn’t matter.

”I’ll keep that in mind. Next time I’ll be sure to go for the throat,”

For a moment she smiled genuinely. ”I’ve taught you well. Just keep in mind that time is running short. Be sure you’re on the right side when it happens,” Like that it seemed her form folded to shadows and was gone. He pulled himself from the dense, desiccated tree trunk and wiped away the mixture of dust and bark. There was a reason he was stepping through The Abyss. For those that had the tolerance, he could jump to places like New York from LA within seconds. The only reason he even had this detour was because someone was chasing him and Sheiara was that someone.  Something was moving within this world and he did not want to be on the bad side of it.

”Let’s get out of here.” Drawing the weapon he used to attack the goddess of war across the air, he opened a bleeding scar and stepped through. Watching it knit closed as he stepped back into the human world.

Now here he stood, on the outskirts of New Orleans. A place known for voodoo, Mardi Gras and various other things. Such as crime, and public intoxication. A shithole after his own heart, though he wasn’t too interested in the city itself but the random invitation that had sent him planar hopping. Aside from saving time, because if there was one thing he got from Sean it was laziness.

Stretching beyond where he stood was the remains of an amusement park or perhaps carnival grounds. A massive, big top stood in the center, partially sagging from age and what he assumed was some manner of battle. Shattered fragments of what he could only describe as an airplane existed as well, though his mind trailed to imagining what the place looked like in its hayday. When everything was running and there was a swathe of humans enjoying the unhealthy foods they sold here. Still, he was here for a different reason and so he would see into it.

Someone had known to contact him through whatever means were available. Michael was dressed in a light grey winter coat and light grey slacks, very lightly dusted around ankles with abyssal dust. He likely reeked of death in the purest of senses. This time he wasn’t wearing any hats, instead letting his semi-shaggy dark brown hair rest where it was though combed somewhat into a style. His silver eyes flecked with neon green scanned the area until it fell upon a man on his phone, dressed finely enough for these secretive kind of meetings.

Well that was his experience with most criminal inclined humans.

”My boytoy? No, Cicero didn’t get arrested this time. I was just wondering if you didn’t mind giving some funds towards a venture of mine. It’s hard to claims these crime bosses without…greasing a few palms,” The man on the other end of the line explained as Michael approached the man on his phone, hands buried into his pockets with his weapon long banished.

He cleared his throat and waited to be recognized. ”I’d ask if I was interrupting anything but I don’t really care. You called me here so here I am. Here’s hoping for your sake it’s not some trap,”

”Damian you know how I feel about handouts…It’s not like you to ask for one either. No. But I know nothing of your venture....So how about a trade then? There is a particular Senator that I need to be occupied. Senator Mason Bran. Break him or bring him to me. One million Broken. Ten million alive and intact.” He rasped with a slight curl to his lips. His smirk simply oozing with entropic energy as he began to hunger. There was a shift in the air, a disbalance of entropic energies, and then suddenly a voice. One that was familiar to him. He would chuckle, but part of him wished to growl. He decided to simply exhale in his raspy way before whispering into the phone. ”I’ll forward 500k up front. Gotta go. Family matters.” He chuckled as he pressed the red phone logo, allowing it to close down. The coated man pressed his small rounded sunglasses up and turned to face Michael.

”I’m sorry. Were you saying something, Michael?” His voice asked as he turned and flashed a smirk to the young Atterirus. His human form was not one that Michael would have noticed. He gave a slight chuckle before placing his hand to his fedora and shaking his head. ”Unfortunately I received the same summons. It seems as though someone was able to discern my identity...which is….well...” As he pulled the hat from his head there was a split second where his face was entirely obscured from view, and in that moment his head seemed to hiss with a black entropic haze, revealing the yellowed calcified bone and the deep sunken eye sockets of black. The silver blue eyes glittering in the darkness as they looked over to Michael.


”A most difficult challenge.” He said his voice no longer just the raspy version, but with a deep and bellowing done beneath, sounding rather regal and esteemed. With a swift motion he placed the hat back on trajectory, and his human veneer slowly began to knit and pull together in a rather macabre display. When it was finished, he cleared his throat, letting out an exhale of pure entropy with the sound of a renewed zeal.

”You smell of blood and entropy. The Nether leaves quite a stench. I’d thought it had been processed by The Beast already. Perhaps Prometheus’ thesis proves correct in this instance. Fascinating. Though to think we are both here has me quite curious.” He said as he took his thumb to his chin, curling his forefinger around it and letting out a slight musing. Who could have possibly figured their identities, as well as pulled them both here? What a strange set of situations.

”Well it’s hardly a surprise to see us here. But Mr.Secretary. Tsk tsk tsk. You’ve been bad.” A voice came. A figure dressed in a long purple overcoat seemed to step forward, blakc hair properly positioned a wide smile on his face, his cane in his hand and his patchwork fashion seemed to scream with a level of sophistication, but the smile and the strange sense of empty glee in his eyes seemed to scream “unhinged”. He was the first, leaning onto his cane and looking over to Michael. Four others seemed to step out of the wordworks, popping up from behind booths, one dropping from overhead, having jumped from the ferris-wheel with his hands and eyes alight with green energy. ”Oh please. You’re all so dramatic...I’m not sure if that’s a good thing.” He said his tone seemed to go from manic and unhinged to cold and calculating, before his scrutinizing gaze shifted back to Michael with a wide grin.

”There are a thousand better things to do with my time.” Alistair said as he turned to look at Michael, cocking an eyebrow as if asking him if he wanted to do the honors of eliminating the people that had just arrived.

”Well who is THIS wonderful specimen. Vibrant and brimming with that existential dread and nihilism!” The man said as he leaned off his cane, starting to walk towards Michael, chuckling the whole way there. ”God, look at you. You’re near perfect, aren’t you? Existing yet brimming with energies of the contrary… And you just look like you're done with all the garbage that life throws at you.” He said as he ear finished his approach, pushing Lych on the side the hissing entropic energy slowly devouring the man's glove, him hardly noticing as he seemed to glare at the older man.

 "Filthy wretch!"

   ”Oh Flatterer! But aren't you a little past your expiration date?” He passed up Lych without a second thought, reaching up and patting his cheek. He seemed to entirely ignore Lych beyond that and smiled at Mike. ”But where are my manners? Obviously not here. Isaiah, The...de-facto leader of the hidden citizen group known as Legion? That wasn't a question, Please don't mind my tone.” He said stuck out his hand, kindly attempting to exchange pleasantries.

”and you know I hate handouts.I’ll get you that senator, unbroken too. Can’t let that much money slip through my fingers now can I?” The young mans voice sounded intrigued, as if that were all The Lych had to say to get him to be part of whatever game he was playing. Money was power and Damian wanted as much of that power as he could possibly gather himself. Michael watched the conversation continue; one eyebrow quirked in curiosity until the man finally turned attention towards him. It didn’t take too long to recognize the person that he was talking to and likely accusing of inviting him here of all places. He spoke as if he didn’t hear but then proceeded to answer him as if he did hear him, leaving the young Atterrius more annoyed with the man than before. If only violence were not a useless avenue to pursue.

His considered the mans true form, the father of his father. Well, the father of Zell Atterrius though he didn’t exactly show up to Thanksgiving these days. Didn’t seem like their family was on that kind of footing. Grandparents didn’t come in to talk and have a nice dinner with the children and grandchildren. ”Sounds like someone with connections then,” Michael noted, suddenly realizing that might be a little serious. Not that he paid much attention to what his grandfather did either. His eyes scanned over the area around them, ignoring the macabre appearance of a human guise knitting itself back around the face of the grisly skull. Questions desperate to be asked going unasked as he instead realized that someone had else inserted himself into the conversation. ”I’m still working through how The Abyss is back,” Was all he said, though he imagined that the man had some idea.

How did it seem that everyone other than him knew what was happening? Was this another ploy by those that should be telling him things hiding them? ”Aside from that, we both know I wear death much better than my siblings,” Jordan, and Shael likely had no issue with death but Mike always felt a connection with the concept. Silus…well no one would ever be believed if they said Silus killed someone. That just felt like an impossibility, but him doing so would have been…expected. That was when someone else chimed in and he tensed up without even thinking about it, muscles growing tense and nether rising in intensity around him. Curling, glowing purple runic markings formed from the nape of his neck and across his cheeks. If he smelled of death before, it was an unbearable stench even to those that had no sense for it. Not much kept him from reacting violently against this unknown person but he didn’t attack yet.

”looks like we’re dealing with…whatever the fuck you are,” There was something about this man that he wasn’t sure if to describe as dangerous or just unhinged. Was there any difference between the two of those things? Finally, the man introduced himself and he realized something in that moment. ”You’re not behind inviting us here either are you? Which means…who the hell invited us here?” His preparations for violence did not cease and instead he was looking around for who invited him, old bone man and the crazy guy here.  Would he have to fight? Who knows but Michael was all too ready.

No. I didn’t call you here but whom called you here is who called us here. I am Isaiah. We are Legion. There’s been some….changes recently. We worked to try and help a particular someone, but ultimately they spurned us. Now he finally realizes that we’re only here to help and he has found a place for us. The man said, his hand remained extended towards Michael, he eventually realized that Mike wasn’t about to start shaking hands, though he marveled a bit at the Titan’s skin a bit, as if seeing something that wasn’t truly there. He cleared his throat and with his hand outstretched he moved his arm, as if presenting the rest of the group he brought with him. The one who was smaller in a black leather jacket seemed to wave, as if he were the only one possessing any manners.

”If you know, I would suggest speaking quickly. Knowing Michael it’s getting to be the point where bodies start dropping.” Alistair snarled for a moment prior to transfixing his vision to a small figure that seemed to step out of the wreckage of the plane, slowly making its way towards the group. As it walked it made a slight motion with its hand, and suddenly appearing ten meters closer was the figure, standing about five foot and five inches, smaller than one might expect. The figure was young, and when they spoke their voice seemed to be almost entirely devoid of all emotion.
”I had thought I smelled something.” They replied. As they turned their head, the hood of their black cloak lifted, revealing a young man with a rather familiar face to Michael. It was a young man whom he watched die not a month and a half ago. Someone who had died giving everything they could to lash out and bring vengeance upon their mother. The Ti’tian known as Lazaroth, the son of Sheiara. His eyes were silver and lifeless, but his body was moving quite well. Where his hair was once black, there were clearly visible strands of grey and silver peeking through the hook, as he seemed to scan Michael, then offering a small smile. ”It is good to see you again, Michael. My mother’s stench surrounds you.” He said a small smile forming on a slight delay. The Lych seemed to look with disdain upon the small creature, while the members of Legion all had weapons trained on it, save for the small one and the unhinged grinning man that seemed more entertained than anything.

Well look at you. Where do you all keep coming from? This is amazing. Isaiah seemed to talk as if he were still seeing something others could not, watching and learning things without actually being aware that others didn’t know at all what he was talking about. The Lych seemed to leer over the once-deceased Ti’tian with a hateful glare that he made no attempt to conceal.

”This is not all that he had invited, but it is a good start. May I take you all to the meeting point?” Lazaroth asked, though his tone was less inquisitive and more mechanical, as if it were forced to sound like a question rather than a natural progression to question. It was actually quite difficult to describe. Without any objection, Lazaroth would begin leading them towards the airplane’s wreckage and begin leading them through subterranean passages. They were obviously of human design and make, architecturally designed and created rather than natural caverns. Stone brick and walls seemed to adorn the areas as it appeared to be slowly transitioning to wires crawling on the walls and metal walls, then from fantasy to science fiction they arrived at a large door. With the reciting of a series of words, the doors opened and Lazaroth would lead them inside, bringing them to a table, decorated in fine cloth, and several chairs seated. It appeared as if there had been an expectation of company for a meal of some kind.

”I am sure that you all have many questions. If I am able, I will answer them now...”

The man with a wild look in his eyes extended a hand towards Michael and he just looked at the hand as if glaring would somehow sever it. Sucking in and biting down on his lower lip as if that were to keep him from saying anything. There was a lot going on, people being brought here by an unknown party that was interested in them for some reason. ”I’ll have to agree with the senator. I don’t like whatever fucking around you’re doing here,” The words still broke out, his eyes taking in a darker, nether laced glow. Someone thought they could just call him without any bother but they would have to learn why that was not the case. When the two of them met.  Putting pressure on his left leg reminded him of Sheiara’s kick and so he focused on speeding the healing process until the pain faded away. As always the woman’s strength appeared to be boundless.

That was when another voice joined their cacophony of confusion but this one was familiar too. A voice he had not heard in a while, and the face was similar save for the color of his hair. Something about it brought his curiosity to the forefront for a moment, remembering when he last saw the male and the fight that had happened. Empowered by The Black Beast, Sheiara was powerful. Too powerful for either one of them to take on alone and so they had to join forces to push her back. ”looks like your death didn’t stick,” he said, voice holding a tinge of surprise opposed to the anger he was feeling a moment ago. What had caused him of all people to be here too? What kind of being was drawing them together?

”Well, sounds like you know who invited us so spill it. Don’t exactly like being summoned by total randos,” Michael immediately began asking, likely not wanting to waste time on the guessing game to come. Everyone else was following so he did as well, entering the wreckage of the airplane and moving through caverns within the earth. Carved out by a human design he could tell, though they were intricate enough to suggest considerable skill. Soon enough fantasy and science all mixed as they progressed and were eventually lead to a door which opened and presented a table prepared for them. Mistrust was quick to rear its head here too.

”Well I already asked you one question but another is what’s going on here? Some kind of banquet. Something tells me whoever is pulling your strings isn’t stupid enough to try poisoning me,” The others he couldn’t be for sure but a walking pile of bones didn’t scream weak to poison. ”also why aren’t you dead? I’m pretty sure you died back then,” More questions as he picked himself out a seat, crossing one leg over the other in a subdued huff and waiting to see what kind of surprise would spring on him. His speed was heighted enough to a degree he was confident he could dodge any threat to his person. Well, that was the thought going through his head. ”well, enough of my grilling you. I’ll let the others ask their questions as they see fit,”

The individuals had all made their own ways in the room. The opportunity for questions was provided, however it was only after they had arrived. From that point, Lazaroth had heard Michael’s questions and after an uncomfortable moment of silence, the young Ti’tian seemed to speak in response. His words were slow and drawn out, his eyes seemed to look past Michael, as if not really looking at him, but still trying to pay the courtesy.

“He will make himself known in a moment. I am to fetch the required communication. He is known only as “The Doctor” for the sake of this correspondence for the sake of anonymity. The purpose of this arrangement is for him to have a moment of your time and see you would be interested in a solution he has to a common problem amongst yourselves.” The response was well tailored around the fact anonymity was a key factor. To this respect, the young man seemed to withdraw a small square device from his cloak, walking over to the table and setting it down, arranging it just so as Mike asked about his survival.

”How did I survive? The answer to that question is difficult...” The young man said. He didn’t seem to respond beyond this, after sa few seconds there was a statement made from the unhinged man, but his voice was calm, cool and collected. It seemed like a genuinely well thought out statement, though a bit cryptic.

”He didn’t survive. Did you? No I can see the teeth marks so clearly...you fought. You lost. But now you’re back.” He said, causing the Ti’tan’s expression to fall, their head tilting downwards as they collected what could have been considered their thoughts. Finally the response was determined and they replied in kind.

“I fought, and I lost. But when I was there. In the empty, there was a voice that seized me. Whispered to me of a plan, and thus returned me here, to this place. His voice still whispers, but I am to serve here. I am to await the day when Consequences come to be. Until then, I serve.” The Ti’tian said as simply put as he could, while honestly answering about as much as he could. At this point he saw no other questions, just the unnerving smile of Isaiah on the other side of the room. As Lazaroth had finished tampering with the small rectangle, a voice came on, and began to radiate through the whine of a radio frequency.

”Hello!? Hello? Is anybody there?” A voice came over the radio with a slight level of jovial tone and an incredibly upbeat energy. The voice seemed to be accompanied by a slight whine of the radio before suddenly it fixed to a normal channel. ”Is everyone here accounted for? Good. Hello everyone! I’m The Doctor, it’s a pleasure to meet all of you and to have you all here. I’d like to take the time to ask a general handle or name to be used in this discussion, for my sake and all attendees.”

”The Doctor? Well, that’s setting only so many expectations,” Calling people together and calling themselves something like The Doctor? Something told him he wouldn’t like a person like that at all but he was curious enough to see what he wanted with this collection of people. Being anonymous was another clue about the person, perhaps they couldn’t afford to let themselves be known or they knew enough about the people they called to know not to let them see their face. As for the survival of the ti’taen that was another story, something that didn’t get an answer either. Well, not that he expected this Doctor to be anyone he knew. Just someone that had a reason for calling him along with these others. Lych offered his insight about the mans lack of survival, though that only brought around more questions than answers.

So he did die but that didn’t stick. Which meant someone brought him back to life for whatever reason and that reason had something to do with The Doctor. ”From serving someone to serving someone else. Guess that’s your look huh?” Even now he couldn’t help judging the concept. Serving, being used by someone else was just not exactly what he allowed himself to fall into. In the end he followed his own desires, and if that lead to him working with someone else that was what happened. Still, his eyes looked down to the small box set on the table, arms crossed over his chest and mind focusing on that single point of intrigue. ”well whoever this Doctor guy is, hope he has a good reason for calling us all together,’ His final words before a voice came across the receiver and spoke to all of them.

Something about the flavor of the voice didn’t set right with him at first. Too friendly, as if he were trying to coerce comfort from them, something he played around with when he really wanted something. Question about what to call them was brought up and Mike was able to pick one out without any issue. ”You could call me Hyperion. I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you Doctor but that suggests we’re actually meeting and not sitting around a table and talking to a box,” Fear was pointless and he didn’t feel the need to fear. Instead stating what he thought and watching those around him with understandable suspicion.

“Hyperion it is then! While you may be quite suspicious I hope you understand my trepidation from showing up myself. To gather so many powerful and...unique individuals in one room when it is unclear how they will react to a proposal. Well let’s just say that I’m hardly dressed for a single one of you in the room. Let alone an entire ensemble. Hahaha ” The voice seemed to lay itself out there quite well. They laughed and joked, but showed the courtesy of sticking with the names they were told to call them. It also had no qualms about insinuating that it was much weaker than any of them. While Mike could have whatever opinion he wanted, it was clear that this man knew where he ranked as far as power. From his perspective, anyone would think the same thing. ”At any rate, thank you Hyperion for introducing yourself. Is there anyone else that I have the pleasure of speaking with?”

”I am The Lych, though you obviously know of my civil persona.” Alistair followed Michael’s lead, trying to bide time as he attempted to distinguish the voice he heard. The modifications and likely the personal efforts of the individual attempting to obscure their voice were too great for The Lych to ration before his time came. He shifted in his seat at the table and seemed to grumble as he placed a hand on the surface of the luxury crafted piece.


”Isaiah and the remainder of Legion, at your service! The pleasure is ours, Doctor.” The unhinged man said, staring intently at the receiver, as if trying to find or see some kind of invisible connections that were otherwise indiscernible. Of course after a look of frustration there was an immense look of glee that sprawled his lips. He had one leg crossed over the other, there were the others whom were told to wait outside, they looked in as the doors closed, one of them seemed to try and come through, but was blocked by some kind of invisible force.

”Oh yes! Senator Marlowe, quite a pleasure to finally speak with someone of your esteem sir! Legion follows in tow as well! How exciting to hear from all of you. You were exactly the crew I was hoping for!” The voice came across as he suddenly made a snapping noise. At that moment Lazaroth shifted himself over to the box.

”I will fetch the help.” He said, his dull tone seeming to shift a bit to one of slight excitement, turning and seeming to step away into the far, much smaller door than the opposite side of their entry. After a moment a few people in white aprons came out and arrived, all of them seeming to step forward, one walking up to each of the chairs and the ones who sat within. Each individual had a notepad and pen in hand.

”While I’m entirely certain that eating is not a requirement for at least two of you, I am sure that a chance to entertain your taste buds would be one that you may not oppose to take advantage of. Fret not, for you are all my guests and I would not dream to poison the food. I wouldn’t do that to the food. Haha! No, in a more serious tone I’m not sure how one even goes about poisoning Death itself, or a Nether-imbued Ethereal. Isaiah is really the only one who should be worried about it.” At this moment, Isaiah paused for a moment, stopping his order mid sentence to look at the box, a slight pause from his face that looked like worry. Then he simply shrugged and resumed his order.

“Is there anything I may make for you, sir?” The man asked Michael, his white chef’s coat seemed to be emblazoned with an embroidered insignia of sorts. The insignia was that of a black and grey background with a lone fire, with an individual standing in the middle of it. While the entire insignia appeared to be like a shadowed maw containing this fire and man, the overall appearance at a glance appeared to be like that of a burning pupil within a grey and ashened eye. A quick observation would note that the other members at the table had been approached with other individuals that had different insignia.

”Before we begin are there any other accommodations that the Staff or the Lieutenant Representative can get for you? Any preliminary inquiries that I can address before I explain why you’ve been gathered? I’m known to explain in detail, but I promise to not make it overly boring haha.”

” Understandable,” He said in digression, wondering what kind of person this Doctor was. Obviously aware of his own abilities, though that could make someone dangerous. Weak people knew they were weak but that didn’t keep them from using other means of leverage. Strength was not the only power someone could wield, even if it were in his mind the only reliable power. He watched the others give their names, Legion being one he had heard before but wasn’t sure what to think of it. If they were lead by this madman, he had to wonder how dangerous they would be to him. People worth annihilating or not even worth that? ”Senator? Well, seems like we have some interesting players,” Of course he knew his grandfather was a senator from that time he tried to kill his dad and Mike did not forget that. Deep within he hated the man and little kept him from trying to leap across the table and annihilate him with the very power he despised.

Soon the undead titan left the room and returned with several what he could only describe as servers. ”I can appreciate food if it’s made by someone competent,” Michael admitted, though he had to wonder if this man had any competent chefs in his employ. It was possible but also possible he did not. Not that he needed the food one way or another. Supping on death or nothing at all was par for the course with what he was.

Michael found himself grinding his teeth when the voice mentioned what he was to a T, as if he knew what he was dealing with. What else did this man know? Was his introduction even necessary? ”just a spaghetti in a red sauce with the large meatballs I guess….and some garlic bread because apparently you can’t have pasta without it. Pair it with a sweet wine, since I’m sure our host the doctor likely has some prepared,” Now he was just pressing to see how well the titan could cook, and Michael was prone to being difficult. ”no more questions from me. Feel free to info dump all you have to tell us.”

Notes were scrawled down quickly, though he listened to Mike intently, he never made eye contact. He focused on his pen and his paper. The Lych himself did not order anything, but Isaiah was right along with Mike in the sense of enjoying some of the food. The man made no complaint as he turned and began to walk away once he was dismissed. He seemed to migrate his way back to the door from where he and the others flooded out from. Lazaroth seemed to step forward and stand with his hands behind his back, as if at attention as his eyes began to scan the room, as if he were there for some added security.

”Get to it then.” The Lych finally had said impatiently, it came across as a bark, even in the mortal form there was a resonating bellow that lay beneath. The man on the radio didn’t seem to actively take any note nor respond directly to The Lych when this happened. Instead he seemed to clear his throat, and though it seemed ot be a nervous tick, it had a tone, a force behind it which seemed to implicate that The Lych should perhaps reconsider his tone. Akin to a mother whom just heard her child say a word like “suck” or “shut up”.
”Gentlemen you now sit within the Halls of a place that belonged to a group once known as Shade. I believe you were familiar with the leader of the group that was once housed here. Elena Marie.” The man said, his jovial tone not skipping any beats. Though immediately to his comment both Alistair and Isaiah seemed to speak up, in a very strange unison one might add.

The Bitch.
Clever Bitch

”Manners! Both of you…. Now as I was saying.” The man on the radio recovered. The table before them seemed to glow with a surreal blue and cyan color which transitioned to a green, the colors seemed to swirl on the table before projecting a three dimensional hologram above them. A gridded lined structure that seemed to be quite large was suspended, and began to float with random text that identified and outlined the structure and it’s parts. The device appeared to be something of a unique design, bearing similarities to a satellite, but at the same time being more sleek and covered with intricate engravings, as well as thrusters and afterburners. ”The image you see before you is part of Elena Marie’s arsenal, the culmination of magic, which has been outfitted to remain undetected and isolated by technologies that are not part of its own construct.”

”The Mana Cannon...” The Lych whispered to himself, eyes wide for a moment as he began to wonder where this device had been, He had known Marie was going to create one, but where had she kept it? Had she completed it? No, he could tell from the very concept itself that this one was not optimized, it was still only at a fraction of the power she would have been intending. ”How have you acquired these blueprints?”

”Well that’s simple when you possess the device itself my dear man!” The Doctor began to explain, however suddenly he was cut off once more by The Lych..

”YOU possess the Mana Cannon? The Culmination of The Crimson Witch’s time as the leader of this group!?” He asked, there was a sense of anger and confusion mounting inside him, his eyes seemed to flare red for a moment as he looked at the box. Isaiah looked to Mike and shrugged, as if to say he had no idea what any of this was about, or what it even meant. There was silence over the radio.

”Yes!” It exclaimed quite happily, then without even giving The Lych the satisfaction of an explanation, he simply continued on with his presentation. If he didn’t have the patience to shut the fuck up and let him explain, he wasn’t going to humor the man. ”The Mana Canon is in my possession, as well as several artifacts, individuals and anomalous things that are quite a handful. I am, how you might say, protecting the world from these things. In addition to this, I’m actively researching and utilizing these things in order to achieve a few other goals. Of which I will explain in a brief moment.” And so the images flashed as the 3D hologram projected real time images of a powerful blade, one bearing a green light and a familiar design to Michael, in the next chamber there was another blade, black and red in color the energy radiating from it was another thing all too familiar to Michael. The next area revealed a masked creature of a humanoid persuasion, slowly stitching and working on the body of a human. The holograms began to show more and more items, some familiar to people in the room, others were not. This included a strange coffin that The Lych recalled being trapped within, when Niall and The Hale’s had thwarted him.There was the sound of static for a moment, before suddenly the receiver picked up once more.

”Now Some of you may recognize my voice a bit. I project a late-night radio wave to occupy some radio transmitters. From here I give cryptic advice and make mention of some real-time events, harness investigations and evidence and cleverly dispense it to the Vigilantes of Los Angeles. They’ve taken to calling me “The Phantom Radio”. Though I’ve always been partial to Radio Phantom haha! Either way, They’ve come to rely on me for some of their information, and I’ve slowly been utilizing this as a means to extend my influence. Because extending influence is one of my goals. The secondary objective is also quite simple. I want to CONTINUE the drug cartels and underworld families of both the magical and mundane communities. Drugs, Sex, The works! While I’d never partake myself, I’m not a fool. A healthy society lies atop a healthy underbelly!” The explanation was beginning to make some sense now. He was talking about the expansion of influence, and then ultimately the continuation of the criminal underworld. So this was basically a new take-over-the-world plot right? If that was the case why did he work with vigilantes? It seemed like a contradictory thing to do. That’s how it sounded thus far, but then he seemed to shift gears ever so slightly, the jovial creature on the other other side began to chuckle. Not laugh as he normally had with an embellished and flamboyant laugh, but a true, snicker which almost sounded ominous in comparison.

“Collect powerful items and artifacts. Increase Influence. Have a handle on all the underworld activities. It sounds like a Gangland paradise doesn’t it? Unfortunately...or Fortunately given my present company...That’s not what I do here.” He segue was accompanied by a whine, as if the signal in the radio had been altered, but it gave a rather creepy tone to the voice of the man on the other end. The more everyone listened, the more they seemed to all look at each other, seeming to try and gauge the reactions of everyone else in the room. “Sure. We influence Society. We gain power through that. We OWN the underbelly. We’ve created a closed system of self-reliance. When society wins, we win. When Society is the victim, we STILL win and then we can control the collateral damage, even provide aid and benefit ourselves in the process. But all of this is a secondary… Does anyone here know what it is that I am TRULY doing here? Any guesses? No wrong answer amongst colleagues….” It sounded like he was attempting to gauge some interaction of some kind. The food had started to be brought out. There were salads and bowls of soup, three separate kinds offered to each individual person at the table. Their entries would be here within a matter of minutes, but for now they were left with a rather estranged box, asking them questions about what they believed he did. The Lych only glared at the Box, and Isaiah looked ot Michael before shrugging, then taking a sip of his soup.

Pen scratched against paper, Mike already turning his attention away from the titan that was writing down his order and focusing fully on the person that had drawn them together. Not that he had a face to put to the person. The Lych also felt like they should be getting to the point, which pushed the conversation onwards with him taking consideration of all the words spoken. That was when mention of his grandmother came up, a prolific figure within the magical community and someone known for her innovations in magic. Not someone that anyone brought up idly. Unless someone was unwarrantedly arrogant.

A hologram of blue projected itself in the air above the table and showed a grid as well as text, though he could only read a few of those. Something was important about that but it meant nothing until the voice explained what he was looking at. She had mentioned such a device to him before, and what it would be able to do. The Lych knew what it was and that meant there was a general consensus on what they were dealing with. Michael leaned forward a few inches as if he were intrigued by the concept though the bonehead was more angry with the concept of some unknown than he was.

”Protecting the world from them? What interest do you have in that kind of thing?” he questioned, trying to get an understanding of this unknown person. There was not a chink in the armor called their personality. The voice was a little familiar but he hadn’t paid enough attention for it to mean anything. A phantom that lead vigilantes through LA and beyond, doing whatever it was he wanted to do. Protecting the world beyond living in it was the answer he wanted to hear. Though he dd find himself wondering how the man had managed to grab Misanthropy. How long had it been since he last saw that weapon?

”You want to extend your influence, but that’s what’s getting me. Influence society in the light and in the dark, but for what purpose. To improve this failed experiment called humanity, bleed them dry or something else? If none of that is your primary objective, then it has to be something else. Something you gain from gaining all this power,” Michael was thinking, though his mind couldn’t seem to grasp what that was exactly. Reaching through the murky shadows of implication and coming up empty.  ”working with those vigilantes suggests something else. This isn’t some kind of contrived greater good plot is it?” He speared a meatball and shoved it into his mouth, chewing it up before swallowing.

"Hyperion I knew you’d be wise. You have a unique gift to read between the lines and inadvertently place yourself within the bigger picture!” The man said on the radio as suddenly the radio frequency became clearer, suddenly the tone entirely shifted. ”Hyperion, you once held a position running your own underground operation. When the world went to Hell and a demonic portal arrived, you used your underground resources to help funnel people away from the chaos. Why did you do it? Self interest. You had the power to do something, it benefitted you and you did it. You were not lauded as a hero, nor were you praised for your use of resources. You were circumstantial, selfish and expendable. The heroes that responded to the call? They were praised, they were celebrated….They were paid, they were praised and they were all acting in self interest… Only Two people, that day acted in a selfless and heroic way. They did not receive any credit, did they?”

”I’ll be forward. I want to take these paid, Fame seeking heroes and I wish to put them to the test. I want to bring them pressure, I want to force them to struggle to climb to the heights of the heroic, only to see them stumble and fall, choking on their own faux-self righteous rhetoric.” As he spoke the noise on the radio seemed to hit a high pitched tone as the voice became distorted, deeper and trebbled before reaching a demonic tone. Then it immediately shifted back as he seemed to laugh and speak in his regular jovial tone. ”So ultimately, I want to eliminate the self-righteous false heroes, the idols that establish themselves as gods while the thirsty masses drink it all in! I want to restore true gratitude to the world that takes for granted the people they’ve become so reliant upon. I want to whip these fools from the face of the world. See them suffer a little, then expose them for what they really are! It’s rather fun! All at the same time, true heroes become humbled, push themselves harder and then society benefits! When Society benefits, as we’ve established, WE benefit. Haha. Wonderful little thing.” He said as the radio seemed to clear for a moment as the entire room began to waft with the smells of the food. It was at this point that The Lych had seemed to be caught within his own thoughts. Isaiah seemed to be smiling from ear to ear as he heard the man continue on about the humbling of heroes and the destruction of the false idols. He nodded along as he still sipped his soup. For a moment he almost looked as if he had a spark of inspiration inside of him. He placed his spoon down and tapped two of his fingers against his palm.

”Each of us helps you attribute this to your goal.” The Lych said, looking over each and every person at the table, then glaring to the box.

”OUR goal. One of us here seeks power through Influence. The other has the masses to help report and identify anomalous activity. The other holds power to humble any hero or villain that stands before them. Moreso than any common enforcer.” The Doctor said from the other line. While this was all appealing and wonderful,. The Lych and Isaiah had already been won. They already bought into this, even if they had not realized it yet. Michael was the only one who was left. While the man flattered Michael, he was genuine in tone. But there was almost something more. Hesitation, no, it was more like expectation. His words already pulled the other two in, but Michael was not likely to settle for it. He knew there was a specific lack of beguiling and charm. He didn’t change his approach for Michael...he wasn’t tailored for him. Almost like he was inviting something.

”Does that answer your question, Hyperion?” He asked, it was an empty question with a curled curiosity to it. Almost as if he were testing him. As if he knew he didn’t answer the question, just reiterated and added on a nice layer of detail.

   At this time the meal arrived, everything was wonderfully presented with a silver platter and crystal glasses. The food smelled wonderful, hand crafted and individually tailored for the tastes and authenticity of each meal. Lazaroth seemed to watch each and every meal placed, watching all hands at this time, almost as if no motion was going unobserved, even from the staff that were recruited.

He listened to the explanation that followed, quietly eating his meal while listening to this Phantom speak about what he knew. It was impressive almost, what he knew about his parts in saving some civilians during a demon invasion. When the denizens of hell or wherever decided they wanted Earth for themselves. Not that they did a good job in doing so, did they? Heroes rewarded for doing the flashiest of actions, which he imagined sounded wrong in some sense but also it was just human nature. They were flawed, weak creatures that swarmed together in a vain hope to protect themselves. Sad that even then they were their own greatest threats. Bombs, guns and so many weapons that end up killing one another. The true nature of humans that his brother didn’t seem to want to accept. That killing was necessary at times.

Even still despite this explanation having so much to it, something was missing. A kind of thing that pricked at his self control, leading him to want to prod this doctor until he explained what he wanted from him. Sure, he had the power to humble any hero that went against him and sure he saved a few people as well as he was willing to humble those heroes. That wasn’t being questioned within his mind but there was still something missing. ”you answered so many of my questions and yet managed to miss the main one I asked,” Michael explained, eyes narrowed in an annoyed fashion. Well, at least the pasta was damned good.

”All of this humbling false idols sounds nice and all, but why? There’s a reason you want to do this you’re not telling me and I’ll be honest, I’m not gonna just accept these flowery words. Sure, some people here might accept that but I’m not some lacky,” He twirled the pasta around the prongs of his fork,  and raising it to his lips, an inch away. ”you don’t seem like an idiot, so you’re either dodging me or testing me. No matter what it might be, if I don’t get an actual answer to my main question I might just walk out of here. Got more important things to do than getting the run around from some phantom.”

”Hyperion...You fail to disappoint.” He sounded amused, almost happy that someone among them was thinking, someone was willing to do what Mike did. The Lych worked with many people, and did not believe that The Doctor was willing to answer. Isaiah did not care and so he left it go. Michael, on the other hand would not be talked a circle around, nor did he wise to be ignored. He was observant and he was persistent. This is the one that he wanted there. The others were great, but this was the one. After the moment of silence, the voice came after the radio again.  

”Every person in this room has a destiny. Eternal suffering at the hands of a curse, because they could not bring themselves to force their son to live with it. A group of misfits that find their salvation in the following of a cult dedicated to eternal nothingness, trying to save a broken man  but failing. A man marked, his very soul marred by the presence of a beast shrouded in black.” The room fell silent again. Likely longer than the man had intended, but he needed that moment. Not for dramatic pause, but to bring up a courage he did not possess a moment ago. Something that reflected in his tone of speech. When the man spoke again, his jovial voice turning into a more darkly humored one, but one that oozed an assured confidence.

”The point of this group is to do all that I’ve stated. But to the ends of looking upon the face of Gods, Beasts, Curses and Powers beyond. To smile at them and say “No.” while we slowly rip away our lives from their helpless hands. Reclaim what is OURS and not THEIRS. To free ourselves...the way we will free society from these false idols.” His dark amusement seemed to be less of a game, but more of an objective. This made everything come together, the crux of the entire thing was dependent upon individuals whose fates had been predetermined or decided for them. ”This is not necessarily about power for power’s sake. It is about control. We control our fates. Not our Beasts, not our Gods, Not our Curses and certainly not our false heroes and Inner Demons. We determine our destiny, our actions and our lives. Not them. With the power of this organization, we make that possible. With the people in this room, and the resources of everyone here collectively and with the foundation that I’ve laid here on the corpse of a brilliantly mad-woman’s mission.”

”We actually have a shot.” The food that was placed before everyone semee dot be a good enough quality. From that moment, Lazaroth waved his hand with closed eyes and a smirk, allowing them men and women to retreat away to a different place.

  "Are there any other questions that you'd like answered. Now that I've had to lay that bare before you, there's truly little else that I have a desire to hide."