An Immortal Man's Monument

All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.

As Cosmos stared at his reflection and saw a strangers face, the phrase ran back and forth in his mind. Again, here it rumbled by like a train, derailing from its tracks and clearing his mind of other thoughts most violently. He made sure the door to his room was closed, glancing over his shoulder at the doorway. A few rooms away, Cassidy Rose was laughing, most likely watching some childish animation. But she was watching him still, crawling in his head, sifting through his thoughts like a little girl through a rock pool filled to the brim with aquatic life. She liked this one, this Hindenburg of a thought, and Ignatius was not the least bit surprised...

As he sat down before the makeup table, he winced, his back stinging as the large bandages shifted and moved over the burn wounds. They were healing slowly, very slowly, but they were relatively disease free and would be gone as long as he stopped splitting open the tender flesh. From two rooms away, he heard Cassidy Rose giggle loudly. She was laughing at him. He ignored her, instead looking into the mirror upon the vanity table before him. He had aged... An immortal man had aged. His eyes, once bright and wide, had almost shrivelled in his skull, sunken down and away as if hiding from sight; Wrinkles now plagued his once handsome-well, semi-handsome-face, running from around his eyes to his mouth. He noticed that he was clenching his jaw, for no real reason, and his lips seemed to be pressed tightly together.

With a sigh, he turned away from the mirror and instead bent to the small chest alongside the vanity table, pulling it open and planting it on the table top. He knew absolutely nothing about prosthetics, but he had learned quickly enough when the makeup artist had shown him what to do. His left hand shook as he picked up the spirit gum, his mind filled with the last nine years.

He ignored the thought and went back to applying his makeup, the prosthetic nose that covered his shorter, slightly upturned one. This new one seemed to have been broken once in his life and set improperly. He turned his head back to forth and frowned at, before continuing to change the shape of his jaw and add to his eyebrow. Soon enough, another man sat before Cosmos, a man who was older and most definitely immortal. Adam Jones. Adam Joes, single father, widow. War Veteran of Afghanistan, with a limp to prove it. Ran for Mayor of Seacove City almost eight years ago and won, after the other party’s selectee was knocked out of the race after suffering a heart attack brought on by a faulty pace maker. Served four years in office, before relocating himself to Washington D.C, where he soon began a campaign for Presidency of the United States, backed by Clement Industries and many other companies, and some very major political figures.

Everything he had done was lie; winning the Mayor’s Office after using a Microwave weapon to short circuit the man’s pacemaker, even though he had improved Seacove in the time he spent there. Four years and a hundred new schools had been opened and even more renovated back up to state standards, six new hospitals and a complete overhaul on much of the public transit systems. But it was a lie. The four years he had spent in and out of Washington, flying to Russia to set things up there while also maintaining a political career, even if it was small. Then there was Washington. Lying, filthy men and women who smiled so sweetly on camera and were hated by anyone who cared to glance. He was one of them know, working his way in with a knife and a smile, blackmailing and manipulating and presenting such a charming and happy smile to the public as he became something of a minor celebrity.

It was here he selected his running mate, whom right now had absolutely no idea about Ignatius Clement. Scott Luick was most likely waiting for him, right now, at the stage, waiting impatiently for the beginning of the rather unconventional rally. It was there he had gathered the legal team and got the nickname “Our Mysterious Benefactor,” due mostly to his inability to be there most of the time. But they had worked hard and done as he said, had promised the nation a number of things that he would hopefully be able to fulfil.

With a steel eye, he glanced into the mirror and thought once again about that phrase. All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing. He supposed that he was the evil now.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Scott Luick.” The crowd applauded as Scott moved into the light of the stage, the crowd they had gathered on the warm night pressed up against the stage. This was a slightly unorthodox Election Rally, of course, since few people would set one up so close to the Whitehouse, but Clem-Adam had insisted on one. He wanted to reach the poorer people, on the outskirts of Capitol Hill, and do so in a public open forum. And he wanted people close to the Washington Monument, of course. “And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, honoured War Veteran, Adam Jones.” The crowd applauded again, as Adam limped onto stage, smiling brightly as he moved towards the podium, glancing over the crowd with bright eyes that weren’t really as happy as they appeared to be.

As he began to speak, across the Atlantic, a slumbering giant awoke to the sudden shaking of his small cell. The walls began to vibrate harder as the sound of metal grating metal greeted the slumbering Golem. Finally, something below seemed to ignite, and the cell which had been its home for quite a while was suddenly launched from the cold plains of Russia into the even colder skies of the arctic.

“Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, I want to talk about something that the president addressed three days ago. He said that what this country needs more than ever are Heroes. He said that the people of our nation need protection from men and women, powered or otherwise, that would wish to inflict harm upon us. And I reply, steadfast, to President Richard Duncan that what this nation has its fill of heroes. From the police force of every city, who work tirelessly each day to protect us from harm, To the school teachers who work in the most terrible of conditions to bring learning to the most needy, the firemen who worked so tirelessly three days ago to stop the raging flames produced by a mad man who wanted to attack the very home of democracy itself. Each one of you, out there watching at home, or stood here this very night, are Heroes.”

The rocket flew below radar, skirting most major cities before racing free over the cold empty tundra. Before reaching Canada, however, it diverted course and flew straight down into the freezing ocean, its engine cutting dead in a shower of steam. Now, from within, some kind of pulse driver began to push it forward much faster than before, leaving a trial of dead aquatic animals as it made its way onwards.

“This nation needs no more heroes. The nation needs fewer villains, Masked menaces that do as they wish, with little to no opposition. Do you know President’s Duncan administration currently has almost no way to contain a super powered being? In a world where innocent citizens are treated as simple toys, this administration has no way to stop repeat offences. And where are the Costumed Vigilantes, meant to protect us? The Black Knight in Chicago, Pain in New York, whoever you care to mention seem unable to put a permanent end to major villains again and again.”

The rocket had been picked up by at least three different systems by now. Panicked Generals were discussing how to combat the problem as it worked its way further south down the east coast. From what their systems could tell, it was not a nuclear weapon, or it wasn’t one they had ever seen before. It was moving too fast for anyone to try and get a good lock on and attempts had already been made to blow it out of the water. With its current course, it would reach Washington D.C within minutes.

“I do not wish to belittle the efforts made by this select community. After all, they have often done their best to try and protect us. They’re just not doing enough... I propose, if elected into office, to begin an immediate program to train normal soldiers in how to use more effective weaponry against Super powered beings. I propose to open a Prison to effectively contain the unwanted and disruptive elements to this society. I fully propose, to end the superhuman threat to these great United States once and for all.”

The rocket broke the surface and its engines burned fiercely again. A fighter jet was only three minutes away, at best, but a speed boost seemed to give the large hunk of metal its final push. There it burned white hot in the sky for a moment, over Capitol Hill, as it came closer and closer towards its target. Adam glanced up at it; his eyes wide in shock as his bodyguards rushed on stage and grabbed him away from the podium. The crowd glanced up to, the night sky illuminated by a bright white light, and they stood in shock and awe as the engines burned out. Here it came, the package Clement had wrapped so neatly...

It landed, with the loudest of crashes, into the heart of the Washington Monument. The materials seemed to be enough to push the rocket to the left, its tip scraping along the side, tearing concrete from steel, before finally downing in the grass below. Two tons of earth was thrown up, as the Washington Monument twisted violently in the other direction of the blow. Concrete broke like cheap ceramic and the metal tore itself free. And then the thing fell, to the right, breaking in two as the tip landed violently. The sounds it made were enough to drown out the screams of the scattering crowd, as they expected a violent flash of death and silence from the belly of the beast...

"Ahhhhh, spring break. How I absolutely love thee." Alice thought with a happy sigh as she looked up at the Washington Monument. She was currently languishing in contentment from the hours spent in the Library of Congress and The Museum of Natural History. She had to admit to herself that she was a bit of a nerd... a nerd with mediocre grades, but a nerd nontheless. Suddenly, she heard a commotion nearby. Alice looked over to see what looked to be a pollitical rally that was in the process of starting up. She looked at the banners, some with names written on them. She shrugged, the names were vaguely familiar, but she never concerned herself with politics. If she did... well... she really didn't. She did like to see how the Democrats and Republicans were fighting though. She always found it amusing how two parties supposedly dedicated to helping the poeple, focused most of their energies on thwarting each other's bills, no matter how beneficial.

She sighed, moving in a bit closer, her curiousity getting the better of her. As what seemed to be the main man came on stage, cheers and claps rang though the crowd. Alice winced from the noise before climbing on a bench to get a better view of what was going on. Then, the man began to talk. The crowd fell silent, listening to his words, occasionally, murmers of agreement were heard as his viewpoints and various promises were stated. Alice listened quietly, peering at the man on stage, he certainly had a point, but... could he deliver? Alice wasn't exactly a cynic... but she was realistic. Looking at the history of presidency, most weren't even able to fullfill half of what they promised. Either way though, he was certainly getting supporters, just about everyone was getting sick of the constant threat of supervillians... and it seemed that the hero's were never there sometimes. She couldn't really blame them, there were so many villians... so few hero's in comparison. And some were like her... too cowardly to actively do anything. She dug her nails into her palm, scowling in agitation at that thought.

Alice couldn't help but quietly voice her own agreement at the man's last statement. The government really needed to stop relying on hero's... in the end, most could only be in one place at a time. And it didn't matter how many times they put a villian away if the government couldn't even contain the super villians brought in. Then, all hell broke loose as what seemed to be a giant missle slammed into the washington monument. The missle was quickly forgotten though, as the washington monument started to tilt. Thank goodness people had the sense to run towards the side, not straight, that certianly prevented deaths as the tip broke off, crashing to the ground. Alice stared at the once proud piece of architecture befpre turning her attention to the downed missle, which thank god, hadn't blown up yet. She then glanced around her, at the small groups of patriotic americans, in various stages of grief directed at a fallen national symbol.The vast majority were just screaming their heads off in fear, running away from the missle and the disaster in general. But there were those like her, who were focused on the missle almost calmly, sensing that it was important, but those were far and few in between the panicking and grieving ones.. Alice jumped down from the bench, pushing towards the crowd and heading towards the missle, hoping to get a closer look... she had a bad feeling about the thing.

More than 200 years, Stephen mused, More than 200 years of existence in the world, yet most would say that America has degenerated, not improved. Corruption is rampant. Law enforcement cannot control the staggering levels of crime - crime that has only multiplied, murder being common place, people locking their doors from their fellow man. Even 40 years ago, he knew, crime was rampant: He had lived then. And now, the people are desperate. They want action, retribution, safety. The "smart" men, the ones who say they know the solution, scramble to fake it, to secure their power. No one cares about their neighbor anymore.

All these thoughts passed through Superiority's mind in just a few moments.

He was one of the men in the crowd, listening to Adam Jones give his patriotic speech. It would have been touching, really, if it hadn't been so well rehearsed - he'd heard the same fake fervor many times, though this one was remarkably convincing. He supposed the man must at least partially believe his own rhetoric, a dangerous thing for a politician. At the same time, it was a spark of something, if his belief was true: a spark of hope for humanity, that they could, perhaps, shed their self interest and work for the greater good. Still, if it was anything, it was but a spark, not some international movement.

In any case, debating the potential of humanity's virtue was not what Superiority had come here for. No, he was here for quite the opposite: exploiting their corruption. His experiments had not come under scrutiny yet, but all it would take is one official too stubborn to be refused, and he'd have a PR disaster on his hands. He'd taken innumerable measures to ensure it wouldn't happen, sure, but Stephen didn't believe in being too prepared. The less that could go wrong with his plans, the better, and turning politicians to his side would certainly help in that regard. With enough political power, he could push for legislation to, say, make corporations more private and come under less scrutiny by the government. The man at the podium was an unlikely target, but there were others at the rally.

However, Adam's last few statements intrigued Superiority. Special weapons training? A prison designed to hold superhumans? It sounded less like policing the villains and more like persecution, though he couldn't be sure. My my, Mr. Jones, Stephen thought, there might be more to you than meets the eye. You promise much, but I can only wonder if you'll have the resolve to go through with your plan, or if your intentions are pure. The thought of a pure politician seemed absurd to Superiority, and the American public believed the same - it was one of the many reasons he didn't run for any office; he had an image of a wholesome, successful hero to uphold.

The sudden shock of impact shook Stephen from his thoughts. People had scattered in a frenzy, the Washington Monument was fractured, and a missile was lodged in the ground nearby. He silently cursed himself for not noticing the missile before; if it had been nuclear or even just a powerful explosive, chances were that he would be dead. Shrugging off his self-depreciation, Superiority grabbed the helmet that he had kept on the ground next to him and donned it; luckily, he'd chosen to attend the rally in his costume in order to generate publicity. Taking a few prodigious leaps, he skirted near the crater where the missile had landed. Mentally, he went through a checklist of possibilities. Any sort of nuclear or explosive weapon, I can disarm. Likelyhood that it is a weapon, judging from impact? Low. State of the art anti-warhead defenses could not catch it - advanced weaponry....or much older? Possible culprits? China in too much turmoil. Few other national threats that could slip past the defenses. This is....a conundrum.

Isis had really not been interested in why the people were gathering, she wasn't even interested in the topic. She was just there for the purpose of being there. She enjoyed people watching, and there usually happened to be some interesting things happening at large events. There were always the petty theives pick-pocketing their way through the crowd, there were those who didn't pay attentio to what they were doing right in public. It was a form of amusement for the woman, humans at their finest. She thought of herself as seperate from regular humans, almost superior due to her abilities.

Her ears vaugely picked up the speech given by an old man upon the stage, she had no interest in politics. Politics were of no concern of hers, they didn't affect her one way or the other. They could have all thier petty arguments over what laws should be passed and which ones shouldn't be. Her eyes flashed to the left, taking in the scene before her. She was in the back of the crowd, far apart from it. Her gaze flicked up towards the stage as the word "heros" met her ears. She listened a little more closely, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Her eyes opened wider as the bodyguards started shuffling the older man away, his gaze on the sky. She herself looked up and saw the bright gleam on something aimed towards earth. Her eyes were wide with shock, but she quickly recovered and turned herself, trotting away from the crowd that was bound to scatter. The sounds of screams met her ears and she cringed slightly as she turned. She watched the big metal something skidded to earth, sending up a large shower of earth. She ignored the people running past her as she watched the monument soon came crashing upon the crowd as well.

Isis stood there for a moment, and then made her way towards the object, it looked like a missle of sorts. She looked around her quietly her eyes falling on a man with a helmet. She looked at him briefly before continuing to scan the area around her, her gaze finally landing on the missle. What the hell is this?

Nothing felt better than the new life of Spring. Weeks passed since the attack on Clements, but the results of the attack cast Ashley out of her comfort zones. Politics never crossed her mind before, but this seemed like the sort of thing she needed to do. Professionals always spoke of politics and the happenings that took place, so it seemed that she should learn more. Of course not knowing politics did not sit highly on her list of problems with society right now. The heist at the gala left her alone in the world. She withdrew her money before the government could freeze her assets, and she left behind the possessions in her apartment, except for clothes that she kept in her newly touched up BMW. Bliss gave her a helping hand by changing the government's tab on Ashley to make her license plate listing different from her BMW's actual plates.

But Spring came. He spoke of superheroes and the villains they faced. Ashley felt a lump swell up inside of her; she hounded Bliss for not using her powers appropriately, but there she was that fateful night using everything she could muster to enact everything she knew was wrong. Stop it, she told herself. Stop talking down to yourself. She bit back on her inner thoughts and listened in between intervals of applause. His words seemed soothing. Ashley clasped her hands together and but on the inside of her lip.

Without warning a rocket erupted in towards the Washington monument. Ashley jumped in front of a group of people and began to pull molecules to create a barrier around them. To her joy an explosion never came. Debris fired from the structure, as it plummeted to the ground below. Ashley caught the image of a young girl running from a bench towards the debris field. Did she honestly think she could do anything to help these people? Ashley watched as a cloud of dust descended upon the crowd. These people could do nothing to save each themselves, let alone each other.

Ashley sprung forward to follow the girl into the cloud. As she moved her molecular barrier pushed aside the dust from around her, not just saving her cute jeans and white top, but also allowing her a better view of the area. She stopped in front of the young girl and gave her a heroes welcome. "Hey...Um...Hey" That said everything she knew about what she was doing.

Nightkill had obviously attended the presidential candidate's speech. It was always, always a good idea to know the positions of the man who might become leader of the most powerful country in the world, though he noted with some pride China was catching up, and also that India was quickly being neutralized. He noted with lack of pride that Japan and Russia might become threats. He listened to the man's speech. He had investigated the man, and everything appeared to check out. Afghanistan vet, single dad, everything. His political positions were also quite agreeable, in Nightkill's eyes. So far, he seemed as though he would be a competent president, unlike the last Republican one.

He blinked in surprise when hearing of the man's opinion of superhumans. He was quite possibly one of the few political figures who tried saying anything about them. Most just mumbled something about "Good figures, should be admired for their work," but near nobody had come out with this opinion, even though Russia and China were already doing this, and Nightkill had his suspicions about Japan and Egypt, but no American had ever made such statements. Not to say he didn't personally agree, but he noted this could interfere with his own work. He would have to be more careful.

Then hell broke loose. The rocket smashed into the monument. Nightkill was in the back, and saw the monument shatter apart. For a second he just gaped, unbelieving. What nation, what person, would be this stupid? Then his mind kicked into gear. Well, USA was at war again, most likely. He calculated what effect this would have. The USA had been quite isolationist the last few years, and he had expected the pattern to stay. But this new presidential candidate and the attack looked like it would change things. Nightkill paid hardly a second of attention to the screams, and just thought.

He then began walking into the crowd, shoving his way to the front, which was a bit difficult, considering people were either running as quickly there as possible, or running as far away as possible.

>Направление достигнута.

The engine of the missile burned and hissed in the warm summer air. People scattered from it, while not too far away a number of police cars were already pulling onto the park’s green grass and driving straight towards the long, steel gray tube. On the side, painting in a square and unfamiliar script, were the letters СССР, peeled and old, as if the paint had been applied quite a long time ago. There were seems along the side of the body and even up to the dark red head of the rocket, but no clear sign of just what the machine could and would do if someone applied pressure or even touched it. It was huge, big enough to fit at least nine or ten men inside.

>Система работает, ожидая инструкций.

The police cars pulled to a stop before the crushed monument, and a number of officers exited their vehicles. With a shout, they begin to order people to move away from the rocket, trying to set up some kind of barricade so someone wouldn’t walk up, kick it, and set off any explosive inside. “Step back! Back! Thirty feet back, Ladies and Gentlemen.” They glanced around, spotting a few superheroes amongst the crowd, obvious in the ridiculous way that they dressed and the interest they showed in the disaster, rather than scattering like the others at the rally. Under their shouts, the steady thrumming blades of helicopters thrummed. Military choppers, dispatched to observe the situation as military jeeps, armoured vehicles and even a tank made its way to Capitol Hill. Overhead, the pursing jet craft finally arrived, but were gone in less than a moment, reporting back to worried generals that the missile had impacted but not exploded.

>Входящие сообщения; Альфа директивы в действие.
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>Начало Альфа директивы

The shell, which had been silent up until now, suddenly boomed from the inside. Cops scattered back, pointing their guns at the capsule as if it’d stop whatever explosion or thing was inside. Two military helicopters now circled the greenery, as somewhere in the Whitehouse, the President of the United States was being surrounded by men in black suits. There was another boom now, the shell of the missile bending outwards, as if something had hit it incredibly hard. There was a whirring sound one last time inside the machine, and a final strike caused the seal capsule to explode outwards. Gas spilled out into the spring air, most likely from some kind of ruptured coolant system. From within, something large and metallic moved in the brief cover. A moment later, standing out of the darkness, two dark red eyes burned to life. The thing made a sound like a computer modem screeching in protest, before a gentle breeze cleared the gas away and showed the thing for what it was.

It looked vaguely like a man, but it was much bigger. Fifteen foot tall it stood, explaining the length and circumference the missile that carried it. Its body was heavily plated but left unpainted and its eyes were two small metal things on either side of its head. The machine looked like some kind of child’s drawing from the art deco era, with a small and uninterested face, angular body and other exaggerated shoulders and hands.

“Fr... Freeze!” Shouted one of the cops, unsteadily, raising his gun.

(OOC: Ok, A, she's wearing what I put in the costume area. B, Sim has allowed me to use the item she's gonna be getting in a quest since by fluid time, that quest happens before this thread.)

Alice mentally thanked whatever god that was up there, thanking them that her mom was not here accompanying her. It had taken some... well, a lot of persuading. Finally though, her mom had relented, letting her spend the day alone as long as she stayed in the main area with all the.... stuff. So shee had woken up this morning, mom long gone to visit her old friends that immigrated there from china. She had been left some extra money for transportation and the freedom to spend the day however she wanted.

She broke into a coughing fit, "Stupid dust." she thought, grabbing the black bandanna out of her pocket and tying it around her mouth, she then placed her goggles over her eyes, hoping to prevent anymore dust from entering her lungs and eyes. She had noticed what seemed to be a superhero in costume, and she really hoped that he was gonna act and help with whatever problem that giant metal thingy was gonna do. She continued to stare at it, trying to see exactly what it was, maybe a missile that was defective? But really, what was the chance of that happening? As these thoughts passed through her head, she noticed that the dust was parting to reveal a girl that looked to be college age. Judging, she was a superhuman.

"Um... hey." Alice replied, glad that she had on a semi disguise of sorts. Seeing the dust around her was gone, she quickly attempted to get off as much dust off of her outfit as she could. "Sorry." she muttered before looking up again. Then, the police arrived, and once again, she felt a surge of thankfulness that her goggles and bandanna obscured her face. Soon, various military vehicles started to arrive as the police herded the civilians off. "Hey!!! Kids!!! Get away from there!!" Alice turned around to see a policeman heading towards the two of them. Just as he reached them though, a big "BOOM!" was heard coming from the missile like object. She quickly turned around to see the thing bulge as if being dented from the inside. This halted the policeman as he drew his gun, all attention on the missile like thing. Then, the robot emerged. "Aw fuck." Alice muttered, staring at the metal monstrosity... this was not going to end well.

"What is that giant metal creature called?" Alice startled, looking around before realizing that it was in her head. She looked at her left arm to see the cuff's jewel glowing slightly. She had almost forgotten about the thing. Since she had acquired it, the spirit, or Nofuretsu as it liked being called, had remained silent. Though if she concentrated on it, she'd occasionally get a gist of what it... no he, was feeling.

"What do you want?"She was still a bit bitter that she was STUCK with the damn thing until it decided she could take the thing off.

"What is that creature called?" He asked again, his tone clearly implying that she was a bit slow.

"It's a damn robot!!" she shouted out loud, glaring at the cuff on her hand. She swore she could feel his satisfaction. At that point, she realized that yes, she had spoken out loud and yes, she probably seemed crazy now. She swore she heard a deep chuckle in her head before it once again crawled back to whatever corner it came from. She mentally cursed, wondering why she was stuck with this stupid cuff in the first place.

"You put my cuff on... I'm unfortunately obliged to follow." She prompltly started mentally cursing the spirit out again as he chuckled, obviously enjoying her discomfort. To outsiders, it certainly seemed that something was not quite right with her head. Of course, most were focused on the giant robot, something that she should be doing right now.

Interesting. Advanced robotics technology is available to who? The Japanese? Unlikely that they would attack. North Korea is a possible culprit, but nuclear war is a much greater likelihood. Older technology, less streamlined. Would only have been possible in the last century.

As Superiority contemplated the large metal man, he quietly pulled out his handheld railgun and took a few steps back. Highly resistant armor plating, likely deflects conventional weaponry. Possible protection even against tank fire. Too generic for a single project; Someone could be testing their war-machine, or this is the first of several scattered across the country. Thankfully, Stephen's railgun was strong enough to pierce all but the thickest of armor. Unfortunately, it took some time for it to build magnetic charge; more importantly, it only had enough power for three shots. Every shot must count. Must find key targets and look for weaknesses in the structure. A few more steps back, enough to allow for ample dodging time, but close enough that even if Stephen didn't hit a particular spot on the robot, he was unlikely to miss altogether.

More than anything, Superiority loved these sorts of challenges, the ones that required not only his sharp intellect but all of his physical ability. Few things challenged all these aspects; Politics only required his mind, sports required only some quality he was already more than humanly capable of, but combat...combat, no matter the threat, could always pose a risk, always made him think of the most efficient solution, while he needed to use all his ability to overcome his opponent with minimal damage to himself or his reputation. He despised such barbarism....but he loved the thrill of it at the same time.

Isis kept her eyes trained on the big metallic object, focusing on being prepared in case something happened. It could still explode, or worse. She ignored the cops that surrounded it as best she coulde, her ears catching the sound of choppers above them. She took a step forward leaning slightly to get a better look at the object.

A loud boom echoed from the unknown object, and she took a quick step back, her eyes with with surprise. She hadn't expected it, but as it boomed again and began opening, she took a couple more paces back, crouching in a battle position, she wouldn't be taken by surprise again. She would make sure she was prepared to deal with whatever the contraption dealt out.

The air was filled with a gas of sorts, but it didn't take long to clear, and before them stood a large robot. Her gaze left it for a moment to survey the area around her. There was no way the cops were going to get that thing to stop. She looked at the robot again, it seemed to be something not quite of their time.

She was aware of the cop cars around her, and if she needed to, she would use them to her advantage. Large chunks of stone lay everywhere as well, another weapon for her to hurl. She knew that there were other superpowered beings here to, so if needed, she could coordinate with them via mindspeak. She was very aware of everything around her, and her face and aura remained cool and calculated.

Covering the area in a veil of uncertainty, the dust settled against a the ground that refused to stay quiet. Ashley prepared for an explosion to burst forth, but the nervous energy failed to give a true prophecy of what came next. The sun tried to pierce the shroud of granite and dirt laden dust that chocked the sunlight from the sky.

Out of the ashes of the towering monolith began the mechanical ascension of a lumbering automaton. Granite crashed under the terrible wait of the metal. Gears and non-oiled crevices cried out from the joints that sprang to life. A hulking automaton arose from the crumbled mess of the monument. Automaton seemed displaced from the true existence of the being. Perhaps, she should call it a...

"It's a damn robot!" She heard shouted next to her. Observant and ever attentive, the small Asian girl spoke with the eloquence that this situation demanded. A flock of uniformed men rushed towards the monument with a sense of authority lost in the chaos of the predicament.

Tanks rolled over city streets on route to the crowded square. Before the shadow of the colossus lay the ever peaceful reflecting pool. Ashley developed an idea, and took the shoulder of the girl next to her. The excited energy of the rally fell into chaos as quickly as the discarded placards that littered the grounds. Debris and dust laid a coat of shimmering glare overhead of the two girls, granting them a reprieve from the setting dusts of the darkened day.

"We need to help get these people out of here." Barked orders and sirens fought against Ashley's voice, causing her to being her mouth closer to Alice's ear. "The military is going to take this thing down indiscriminately. We need to safe guard these people." She finished her thought. "We need to hold back the military artillery for a few minutes, so people can evacuate before they start firing." This idea may not give them the greatest light towards their actions, but it would save lives. "We need to get towards the reflecting pool."

Nightkill almost burst out laughing. A robot? A fucking robot? Nightkill made a mental note to not swear like that again. It was so...crude. In any case, a robot? Really? Was this Neon Genesis Evangelion or something? Nightkill thought, revealing his nerdiness in that thought.

He looked at the robot. Fifteen feet tall, and seemed quite an oddity. Nightkill thought he might be able to take it, but then he realized it'd be painfully ironic to use superpowers at the speech of a anti-superhuman candidate. Plus, there were cops everywhere, and people in general everywhere. In panicky situations, people didn't think rationally. People would pull out guns and shoot anyone who was moderately a threat, which included him.

Nightkill began walking away from the giant robot. Walking, that was the thing. He was perfectly calm and in control of himself, in direct contrast to the terrified and screaming crowd. He stared at the robot the whole time, recording this thing in his memory.

Adam Jones was rushed off the stage, down some steps behind it and towards the not too distant black car awaiting him. He struggled in their grasp, trying to turn his head back and look at the rocket, doing his best to tell them to stop in an angry voice. Of course, this was for the benefit of a camera. There was always a camera, wasn’t there? The man did well, holding him firmly and pushing him into the back seat of the car, slamming the door shut and banging on the rooftop to tell the driver to put his foot down. In the backseat, Clement rocked to a stop and glanced up at the glass partition towards the back of the drivers head. Cassidy Rose’s hair spilled down the back of the suit and from under the square hat. Her angular, diminutive shoulders stuck out like coat hangers. And while her hands were on the steering wheel, a computer hummed somewhere handling a few hundred sensors and motors that drove the car about fifty miles an hour away from the scene occurring at the Washington Monument.

”I drive well, right, Daddy?” Cassidy turned in her seat and giggled, smiling through the glass like a little girl glancing out of the window of train. Clement didn’t reply, he was already changing into the new costume. Cassidy Rose pouted for a moment, before she did the same. The car pulled up to the curb roughly three streets away as they worked quickly to change into their new ‘Costumes.’ Cassidy Rose already had the flight suit under her chauffeur outfit, so she simply had to tie the long raven black hair with a few ribbons and hide it down behind her back, so it didn’t impede her during the upcoming fight. Then she put the thick, bulky helmet on and shook it from side to side, making sure it was on firmly.

Clement had dropped his jacket and shoes. As he pulled the suit on he winced as the welts on his back burned from the tight material. His helmet was fixed to the power pack sitting in the rear of the car; put thankfully the back seats could be pulled down and the equipment could be accessed from within. The pack was much heavier then he remembered when building it, and already he felt that he was probably bleeding under the bandages, but they had work to do. “Cassidy, remember to start the engine again before leaving the car.”

”Yes, Daddy!” She trilled back, before doing as she was told as they left the vehicle.

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The gas had preserved its systems rather well. Hydraulic fluid that would have stiffened and solidified over the fifty years of neglect still felt fresh. As if to test that, it squeezed a hand into a fist, the metal softly ground against itself like stiff flesh over bone. The machine paused, glancing over the small crowd that had gathered around it. Its head moved slowing, gears inside grinding as it turned from left to right and its servers began to map out the area around it. Technology designed to map out military targets and personnel was simply indentifying the people around it in two categories; Law enforcement and Militia. The Law Enforcement could be ignored, however Militia encompassed a large group of people who could be anything from armed civilians to super powered beings.

Carefully, slowly, the machine tentatively raised a leg and pressed it against the lip of the missile, intent on climbing out onto the dark earth that had been thrown up by the impact of its conveyance. The nervous cop shook the gun in his hand, aiming up towards the creature’s large head with a small determined grin. And then something strange happened. The tube rocked as the machines weight was rested all on its side. The robot was sent forward, tipping out of its cradle. If it had been warned it could have put its hands forward and stopped the decent. Instead, it unceremoniously landed with its face in the mud. It rested there a moment, before raising a hand and placing it in the soil. Then the other did the same, pushing its body up to its knees. The cop wasn’t so nervous anymore as it looked up, like a child who sought comfort from their parent after scraping their knee.

Slowly it put an oversized foot down and straightened its body standing up uneasily as if it were afraid it would be in for another fall; Its legs were spread out and its hand were wide open, it’s head glancing down and it’s systems mapping the ground beneath its own feet.

Three tanks were now pulling into sight as a number of helicopters circled overhead. The cops looked almost relieved as they began to shout, “Move back! Out of the way, this is a matter for the US military!”

Alice watched as the military started to roll in, suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She twisted around quickly to see Ashley, who then proceeded to whisper in her ear, dictating her plan. Alice strained to hear, managing to catch the important points. She nodded slightly, looking up at the wall of... something that blocked the dust from hitting the two girls. She nodded at her words, though she wasn't sure why the girl had picked her... after all, her powers weren't exactly apparent. "I'll try... but why me though?" As she said this, the robot once again stole her attention as it tired to get out of the metal shell it had once called something akin to home Alice guessed.

As it tried to climb out, it fell flat on his face, elicting a small smile from Alice. Inside her head, male laughter rang out, causing her to scowl in annoyance. "Just as I thought you were gone." she muttered, thankful that the spirit chose to remain silent. She once again resumed watching the almost child like robot attempt to rise... child like in behavior anyways. It stood uncertainly, obviously attempting to keep it's balance.

Then the tanks arrived, boosting the moral of the law enforcement as they started to retreat, leaving this matter to someone hopefully better equiped for the job. Alice frowned, this was going to be tough, even with her powers, she could only cover so much ground... and the stupid dust! She couldn't even locate where the civilians were. She frowned, looking at the girl, "We're gonna have to get rid of the dust first." she said, hoping the girl would hear. While the air was clearing, vision was still partially obstructed. Hopefully, with the dust cleared, civilians would get out and the other metahumans would join together... or something like that. Either way, first things first... dust.

Dust flew around the calamitous site. The small girl seemed ready to act on Ashley's plan, but needed to know the details. Taking a deep breath through her nose, Ashley lowered her head to get her message across to Alice. "I trust you, because you're not running away." Ashley surveyed the area to look for the tools to make her trap. "We need to attract that thing to the Reflecting Pool, but first we need to set the trap. I doubt whatever military they mustered up is the A-team of the military."

Hydraulic ligaments roared an impending doom to the military marching into the gates of Hell. The distinct form of the machine lingered against the cloud; it appeared to stumble and fall, but regained it's stature. The police yelled along the chaotic atmosphere, urging all to get back. With the police leaving, the escape routes would clog quickly and create a blocked passageway. That passageway would trap all the fleeing civilians and leave them helpless to the giant robot. Only a stupid plan with almost no chance of hope could save them now.

Ashley kept pressing the air around her to try and grant them some clarity. "We need to get some way of channeling those power generators into the pool. If we can take the main lines from wherever they're plugging into, we can create a large enough backlash in the pool to short circuit that machine." The chaos presented more of a veil than the dust. They would need all the help they could get to pull off Ashley's hack-job plan, but it looked better than running aimlessly and getting run over by a tank. "Do you think you can crawl under that stage to disconnect the wires hooked into main circuit?"