“Good evening, General.” Laurel said, putting General Pratt’s call up on her speakers. All the while, she continued working on one of her other projects on the main screen.

“Evening, Codex.” Pratt acknowledged. “Hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”

“Absolutely not, General.” Laurel said warmly. “I’m just going over some data from the latest training session.”

“The kids are coming along well, I take it?”

“Well enough. They’re amazingly creative with their powers, but their tactical thinking and hand to hand could use work.” She made a suspicious face even though Pratt couldn’t see her. “But you didn’t call me to touch base, General. You have some info to give me?”

“I believe in being polite, Codex.” Pratt informed her, “But you’re right, this isn’t a social call. SI Unit 2 just completed an operation in Philadelphia last week. They bought in a Dr. Susanne Aims, a scientist formerly in the employ of Project Tome. You probably know her by the false name she was supplied with by Tome; Melody Cartwright.”

“Cartwright.” Pratt now had Laurel’s undivided attention. “The ‘doctor’ on the recording we found in Quinn Bluffs.” A growl entered her voice, “The one responsible for the trepanning and for the death of the child they codenamed Thunderhead?!”

“Yes.” Pratt confirmed. “From her we know that Quinn Bluffs was designated Deep Seventeen and that Thunderhead was really nineteen year old Christopher Dodd.”

“Nice to know she learned their names before she killed them for experimentation.” Laurel spat venomously.

“She claims that she only recently found out that Dodd was dead.” The General said. “Apparently, Dodd hadn’t even been cut before the mudslide knocked out the power and Incubus broke free.”

“So she says.” Laurel muttered.

“I’m not disposed to believe anyone involved with Tome, but it is a fact that when SI-2 caught up with her, she was in a hotel room with a revolver and a written suicide note. It isn’t absolution, but it sounds like remorse.”

“She can cry as much as she wants, nothing can forgive what she’s done, what she participated in.”

“I agree.” Pratt said, “But that doesn’t make her less useful and she has given us information.”

“Such as?”

“Such as a credible reason why Deep Nineteen was empty and ransacked when Superhuman Intervention Unit 1 raided it last month.” The general began. “And why Tome has been so quiet following the Redeemer incident.”

Laurel sat back from her work.”Do tell. I’ve been trying to piece that together myself.”

“Aims says Tome experienced a schism following the loss of the Academy and the Enforcers. Someone on the inside shelled out a ludicrous amount of money for Tome’s top researchers to finance their own, private labs.”

Laurel smirked. “And of course, no self respecting scientist leaves his life’s work behind him. They used the money to bribe muscle…”

“In this case, members of Tome’s own private security firm.” Pratt supplied.

“And took their hard earned data and equipment by force. Crafty.” Laurel finished. “Who did it?”

“Aims doesn’t know; she wasn’t one of the ones that were bought. But that spells good news all around.” Pratt said. “Tome obviously lost a massive amount of resources if the extensive looting of Deep Nineteen is any indication. And now they have competition when they try and attract scientists.”

Laurel shook her head. “No, not good news at all.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a Hydra, General.” Laurel explained, quickly. “When you cut off one head, two more grow back if you don’t burn the stumps. Our instigator knew this. He made sure all the pieces of Tome survived breaking off. Now, instead of one organization seeking to exploit descendants, we have maybe a dozen.”

“How certain can you be of this, Codex?” the General asked.

“As certain as I can be.” Laurel said, bringing up a new screen on her main monitor. “Tome’s primary goal is to harvest data about descendants. We don’t know exactly what ends they have in mind, but so far their means have been despicable at best. And most, if not all of those scientists have spent probably their entire career doing it. They aren’t going to stop now that they’re self employed.”

A map of the United States appeared on the main screen, followed by a scrolling list in the corner.

“And the less practical among them will try the same collection method.” Laurel said. “General, do you know how many new schools for ‘psionics’ have applied for accreditation in the past six months following the Academy’s closure?”

“Thirty-eight.” Pratt responded correctly. “And don’t worry; the ROCIC is keeping a close eye on all of them.” He listened to her exasperated sigh. “If it concerns you so much, you could consider the solution I offered.”

Laurel shook her head. “As much as I’d love to and as much as Darkness needs it, we can’t General. Opening up an academy of our own here would involve revealing our identities.”

“I don’t understand,” Pratt responded, “Project Tome already knows you’re in Mayfield—and they may be defunct now—you already have a state of the art security grid—why do you need to maintain secret identities at all anymore?”

“Because the Descendants have made enemies who aren’t Tome.” Laurel said truthfully. “And no matter what help you offer, it’s too big of a risk.”

After a pause, the General spoke again. “Speaking of our help, I’m prepared to mobilize an SI unit to help you with the Mauler problem I’ve been hearing about on the news.

Laurel thought on it. For the past two weeks, Mayfield had been in the grip of fear over a rogue psionic in the form of a serial killer dubbed ‘the Mauler’ by the media. Reports said he struck at dawn or at dusk, always with the victim in view of others. He was a metamorph of some type or other, with leathery wings, a horned head, and teeth strong enough to crack his victim’s bones.

Five people had died. Witness accounts were hysterical messes. And worst of all, in the last two days, the Mauler had changed his MO, at least partially. While there had been a killing on the docks, the Mauler had stalked four students from the same high school the Freeland House kids attended. This time, he had come for them while they were alone, harrying them from the shadows. In those four cases, the victims had escaped – the only victims know to have survived.

The slayings had served as a rallying point for a fringe group led by the Reverend Douglas Stiles to spread their culture of paranoia about psionics in general and prelates in particular. He was all too happy to stump on the fact that the Descendants had yet to stop the rogue psionic. Of course, it wasn’t as if the Descendants could go on TV and announce that their resident empath couldn’t find the villain in the Astral.

It all added up to something bad. But having to call in a military strike force would only make it worse. It might make the Mauler desperate. And it might embolden Stiles and his flock.

“No.” Laurel said firmly. “Thank you, no. we can get a handle on this, sir.”

“Good luck then.” The general said, “And good hunting.”

“Remember when our girl’s night out was actually a girl’s night out?” Kay asked, running a hand over her green and yellow dyed locks. “You know, movies, popcorn, maybe bitching about JC depending on your relationship status with him at the time—the good old days.”

Lisa sat across from her in the neon purple beanbag chair that took up that corner of Kay’s room, carefully double checking her pouches to make sure she had her spell components in order. “Uh, Kay? Who suggested I fight crime with the magic mojo I gained from that crazy witch?”

“Me, but—“Kay started.

“And who came up with the idea of using girl’s night out as a cover?”

“Me again, but—“Kay tried futilely.

“And who just spent the whole afternoon, when I suggested mall crawling, drilling me on my new tracking spell?”

“It was fun chasing stray cats…” Kay admitted. “Okay, yeah, I kind of bought this on myself… and on JC, I guess. But that was when I thought I was going to be your sidekick.”

“You are my sidekick.” Lisa shrugged.

“No, I mean, I thought I was going to get a cool magic bubble costume and kick ass too. I didn’t expect I’d be sitting in the library study room, watching police bulletins online and texting you.”

“Kay…” Lisa said softly. “I’d love to have you right there in the mix with me. You’re my best friend ever.”

“But…”

“But… it’s too dangerous. I can barely keep wards on myself from collapsing; I can’t keep them on you too. Plus, I mean, your powers aren’t exactly combat ready. And we’ve tried the teaching thing—I suck at explaining this.”

“This blows.” Kay pouted. “I’m the one born with powers. How is it that you get a witch to the head and suddenly you’re ten times more awesome than me?”

“Luck?” Lisa asked. “Bad luck. This is all just practice for me, remember? So I can get strong enough to get Aunt Tay back.”

Kay nodded sadly. “I know. I just don’t like the idea of my best friend out there without someone to watch her back. Are you sure about not joining the Descendants?”

“Yeah.” Lisa said, standing up and looping on her belt. “I mean, they’d definitely demand to know who I was then and I’m not ready for that.”

“You can taste the fresh baked irony.” Kay said dryly. “Well, let’s get this show on the road.” She reached into Lisa’s backpack, which was lying on the floor and pulled out a glowing, translucent pink orb about the size of a marble. “Someday, you are least have to make me one of these.”

With that, she threw the orb at Lisa. It popped against her like a soap bubble. Changes took place, first at the point of impact and expanding outward. The first time Kay had seen it happen, she had been amazed. Now it felt familiar to see Lisa’s clothes and face replaced by Occult’s thanks to the power of the glammer bubble.

“If you want to hang out and watch a movie instead of hitting the library tonight, it’s fine with me.” Occult said, double checking her pouches.

“Nah.” Kay shook her head. “I’ve got my sidekick duties. But once we or the Descendants or someone takes out this Mauler guy, we’re having a real girl’s night, got it?”

“Got it.” Occult smiled. “Hopefully tonight we’ll get lucky. For once, I hope he’s out hunting tonight.”

“Are you sure we’re allowed to be here?” Warrick swung his flashlight over the sign for the Glasgow Scrap Yard. It was dark already and the light of the half moon shining on the hills of refuse metal made the place look like an alien wasteland or even South Dakota.

“I have the key, don’t I?” Tina asked, patting the pocket where the aforementioned object was stowed. She had a small flashlight clipped to her belt which kept a steady beam on the ground in front of her. “You worry too much. Come on, I promise this will be fun.”

“It’s just kind of hard to believe that they just let people come and go as the please.” Warrick said. “It certainly feels like breaking and entering.”

Tina fell into step beside him and grabbed his arm, compelling him forward gently. “I do maintenance on their machinery free of charge and I get the key in return. It’s a good working relationship for a hobbyist mechanist.”

Warrick nodded. “Yeah seems like. Though I think we may be the first people ever to go on a date to a junkyard… this isn’t symbolism is it?” The vast hills a scrap metal in all its forms were better than a symphony to his metal sense.

“Not now at least.” Tina shrugged. “But if we ever get serious, my cousin is a jeweler and he has the perfect slogan to make this gooey and romantic.”

“Really, what’s that?”

“More precious as silver,” she pointed to the moon for lack of actual silver, “Stronger than steel.” She pointed to the still intact body of an old muscle car.

“Nice.” Warrick gave a low whistle.

“Yeah.” Tina smiled at him. “He’s got it super imposed over two lovebirds staring dreamily into each other’s eyes.” She looked up to meet his eyes. They only locked a moment before both looked away, blushing in the dark. “Anyway, we need to go this way.” Tina recovered smoothly.

“Uh… yeah.” Warrick nodded. “What exactly are we after anyway, Tink?”

“Special project of mine.” Tina replied. “Glasgow has what’s left of one of the early flying police cars. I’ve been cannibalizing the parts for months now.”

“Cannibalizing them for what?”

“You know how we had to take a cab here?” Not waiting to hear him replied, she continued, “That’s because I don’t have a car.”

“Also because I don’t have a car.” Warrick supplied. Laurel had offered to buy him one, but he didn’t want to beg off her that much. He’d probably get a summer job to afford one on his own. Juniper had had the same idea. Cyn, however, had spent the last month pouring over car magazines and websites looking for something to suit her ‘style’.

“That too.” Tina laughed. “But anyway, I figured since I’m pretty knackful with machines, I’d build something myself?”

“A flying car?!” Warrick asked, excitedly. Civilian vehicles equipped with VTOL propulsion systems went for about four million dollars used and required special licensing.

“We’ll see.” She said. “The VTOL system is pretty trashed, so it might be more of just a hovering car.”

“That’s still really cool.” Warrick said, “Not was cool as a flying car, but…” He smirked as Tina punched him in the shoulder. Mostly, he smirked to avoid wincing as she *just* missed the metal band that was Osp’s dormant form. He had yet to come up with an excuse for wearing them and given Tina’s affectionate little punches, he really needed to come up with a reason.

“You won’t even think of a Muse or Talon when I’m done with this thing. Modern flying cars will be a thing of the past.”

Warrick stopped listening and stopped walking. His metal sense had caught some stress from something heavy moving on a nearby hill of scrap. He concentrated to feel out the exact location.

“Warrick, are you okay?” Tina asked him.

Before he could either pinpoint what was moving, or reply, a snarl came from above.

-- • --

In the dim, Warrick could barely make out the shape that crouched atop a junk pile nearly three times his height. It had thin, batlike wings that were spread out behind it in a threatening display. Its head was ducked low, completely obscured in the shadow of its body. But the long snarl that curled up from it made its intentions clear.

“Tink, run!” Warrick shouted, turning the beam of his flashlight upward with hopes of blinding the creature. It was just his luck; two weeks patrolling with the intention to apprehend the Mauler and not only had the killer found him instead, but with Tink there, he couldn’t cut loose with his powers.

The creature saw what he was trying to do and raised a forearm to shield its face from the light. The flashlight revealed smooth, rust colored skin, a well muscled forearm with twin rows of spiky protrusions running from the back of the wrist to the elbow and the remains of a tattered t-shirt covering a modest, but definitely human bosom.

“Huh.” Warrick muttered to himself. “Girl monster.”

“Come on!” Tink grabbed his arm and tried to pull him behind her.

With a sharp hiss, the creature leapt from her perch, aiming for a pile closer to the pair, huge wings turning the jump into a glide.

Mentally, Warrick violently thrust his power into a lead pipe deep inside the pile, twisting it and causing half the stack to slide sideways in the process. The creature let out a very human yelp as she went down on her hands and spiked knees trying to keep upright.

With a few moments bought, he let Tink drag him into a full run. Together, they dashed down the dirt paths between the dozens of hills filled with assorted scrap. Before the place had looked like an alien landscape; now it felt like a horror film.

After what seemed like an hour of blind running, the front gate complete with the trailer that served as both guardhouse and office, loomed ahead.

It was then that the creature caught up to them. Erupting from hiding behind a refrigerator that had probably been in use at the turn of the century, she sprang directly at Warrick, tackling him at the shoulders with enough force to carry both of them a good ten yards into a tangle of old cables and tires.

She was close to him now. Even with the poor light, he could finally make out her face. The same calcified armor that grew on her arms and legs formed plates along her brow, cheeks and chin, giving the impression that she was wearing a helmet. Her eyes were totally white, but reflected green in the starlight. Lank, inky hair hung in clumps over her face, which was strangely familiar, but confusion and adrenaline were probably playing tricks on Warrick.

“Now you have reason to be afraid.” The creature said in a smoky voice that reminded Warrick of a lounge singer from an old, black and white movie.

“You’d think that.” Warrick said, defiantly. Even as they spoke, he wound her legs in cables, hoping to at least buy Tink time to get away and get help, or, god willing, for one of the other Descendants to happen by. It was a long shot; Juniper was at a classmate’s house working on a civics project and Ian and Alexis were searching the sites of previous Mauler attacks, looking for clues. His only hope lay with Cyn getting bored with whatever she was doing and patrolling on her own. That or blowing his secret identity in front of Tink.

The creature glared at him. The bizarre calm that had settled over its features dissolved into one of rage at his lack of overt fear. “No!” She screamed in his face. Raising up, she surprised him by balling up a fist instead of going at him with her claws.

Still, there was a good chance that she was stronger than a normal human. As in very strong. Super strong. Cave your skull in with a single punch strong. Warrick prepared to raise his armor. He wasn’t going to die to keep Alloy a secret; that would just be stupid on an ironic level.

But suddenly, the creature screamed again, this time in pain. She turned to swing at whoever had attacked her, but the cables tightened at Warrick’s command, causing her to overbalance and fall. Warrick kipped up, already spouting a stream of thanks to his rescuer before he even knew who it was.

Tink grabbed his arm and started running with him again.

Warrick looked back as they went. The creature was slow to rise and try to untangle herself. “What did you do to her—it? Hit it with a truck?”

Tink held up her keychain, which was in the form of an adorable blue and pink kitten holding an LED light between its forepaws. “Every girl needs to know how to defend herself.” She panted as the pair passed the front gate and hit the street. “mini-light, laser pointer, memory stick and one shot taser all in one.”

Still looking back, Warrick didn’t see any signs of pursuit. “Is that even legal?”

“Well, the store version is.” Tink shrugged. “The new circuits and flash battery I installed aren’t standard though.”

“We need to get to the police.” Warrick said.

“Hey, it may be illegal, but it just saved you!” Tink defended.

“No, I mean about that thing that attacked us.”

“You really think they’re going to be able to do anything about the Mauler?” Tink asked, looking back as well. They were still running, but not flat out as they had been. She gave a little shiver. “Even the Descendants haven’t been able to catch up to him and they took out the Brothers Steel.”

“Yeah, but the Brothers are dopes that tried to nail an armored truck in broad daylight. The Mauler, whoever sh—he is, is good at not getting caught.” Warrick defended indignantly. Wisely, he changed the subject. “Look, we at least need to report this. They need to know who and where so they can try and figure out why and where he’ll go to next, right?”

Tink nodded. “True. You know, my brother says it isn’t a party unless it ends at a police station – wonder if it works the same way with dates?”

Two hours with the police later, Warrick found himself back at Freeland House, giving essentially the same report as he and Tink had given to the cops to his housemates. ‘Essentially’, in the sense that a novel is essentially the same as cliff’s notes.

Everyone was assembled around him in the upstairs commons, listening with concern to his recounting.

“Huh.” Ian said. “Girl monster.”

Alexis sighed and elbowed him in the ribs. “So you said she looked familiar, Warrick?” she asked.

Warrick screwed up his face and shrugged. “Well, not entirely familiar, I mean how many flying demon girls can a guy know?” Cyn raised her hand. “Murderous flying demon girls.” Warrick amended, which bought the hand down. “Anyway, it wasn’t like I really recognized the demonic part. I met a lot of protomorphs and metamorphs at the Academy, and she was like none of them.” He thought hard for how to explain it. “I don’t know; it was like seeing someone you know with a lot of stage makeup on. It’s still them, even if its not.”

“Maybe someone you know is a metamorph and you don’t know it.” Laurel offered.

“Someone we know is a serial killer?” Juniper paled. “But every one at school is so nice…”

“Have you like, not met Lilly and her flock?” Cyn snorted. “Or Ollie and Jake, the seniors that spend half their time harassing the lowerclassmen girls?”

“Well, everyone is so nice to me.” Juniper corrected herself with a blush.

“Oh, I’m certain Ollie and Jake were ‘nice’ to you.” Melissa said, putting ‘nice’ in air quotes. “But they’re ‘nice’ to all the girls that don’t get double entendres.”

“Can we get to back to the point here?” Ian asked. “It does fit. I mean four of the last victims were from your school.”

“It isn’t that hard to believe someone snapped and decided to spread their ‘pain’.” Melissa frowned.

“We can’t be sure that’s the cause.” Laurel said. “Some metamorphs don’t have control of their transformations and suffer seriously unbalanced brain chemistry while shifted. This person might be lashing out at people they know without meaning to.”

“Come to think of it,” Warrick said Melissa’s words still in his head. “Everyone attacked before; Holly, Raymond, Josh, and Chris, are all people Lilly and her friends go after pretty often.”

“As much as I’d love, love, love for little Miss Thing to be a chaotic monster, you don’t fit the pattern.” Cyn declared. “Lilly doesn’t mess with you after you made her look stupid that day with Liz.”

“She did used to tease Tink though.” Warrick pointed out. “She even gave her the nickname.”

“But she pounced you.” Melissa said. “And nearly mauled you.”

“That’s the other weird thing.” Warrick wrinklrg his brow in thought. “Why didn’t she come at me with the claws? She could have torn me apart with the first tackle, but she didn’t. Then she balled up her fist when she had me down.”

“Maybe she still has enough control not to kill people she knows?” Ian asked.

“Fat lot of good it did the other people she’s killed.” Melissa grumbled.

“Well, maybe she was working her way up to people she really hates?” Cyn asked. Then her eyes opened. “Holy crap, I’m next!” She pointed at Warrick. “You may have told her off, but I made her ruin her entire Valentine’s day!” Sneering, she got up and started shadow boxing behind the sofa. “Let’s see the preppy bitch come after me. I’ll… I’ll clobber her!”

Laurel sighed. “We shouldn’t marry ourselves to just this theory… no matter how enthusiastic Cyn is about it. We’ll watch her, but—“She was interrupted by her cell phone beeping out an espionage themed tune.

She grabbed it immediately and looked at the screen. “Huh. The CEO of ConquesTech is holding a press conference about us!”

“’Us’ us?” Cyn asked, and then bent into a bodybuilder pose, “Or ‘US’, us?”

Laurel picked up the remote and tuned the TV to the local news provider covering the conference. “The Descendants.”

“Now what?” Alexis asked, “it can’t be good news for a big company to specifically name prelates in their press conferences.”

On screen, Lester Mendel, CEO of ConquesTech, stood at a podium, looking haggard and solemn. The ConquesTech logo, a stylized ‘C’ with a ‘T’ inside, both colored in to resemble a globe, hung behind him.

“Good evening. You all know who I am and what my company means to our great city. Every Year, ConquesTech brings in more jobs and more money for our economy. We participate in environmental and civic projects that have helped make our city the cleanest on the eastern seaboard and the eighth most livable in the nation.”

He paused, seeming to gather himself. While his speech was obviously meant to make him sound like a powerful and benevolent giant of industry, his bearing was more like that of a child begging for allowance; a far cry from how he normally appeared on TV.

“Now, we need to enlist the aid of the people that have made our city safer and more crime free. I am speaking of course, of the Descendants. A recent matter has come to our attention and we… respectfully request their cooperation in dealing with the matter. If they require it, I am personally willing to pay any price they name from my own accounts. I will be in my office at the ConquesTech business campus, Building Four for the rest of the night. Thank you and goodnight.”

Mendel walked off without acknowledging a single question from reporters.

“That was…” Ian started.

“How could he possibly…” Melissa murmured.

“It’s a trap.” Cyn said, breaking up the stunned response.

“Why would you think that?” Juniper asked.

Cyn gave her a look as if she’d grown a second head. “Are you serious? It’s the oldest trick in the book!” She counted the steps off on her fingers. “Powerful head of a massive corporation asks for heroes’ help, powerful dude neglects to mention the nature of the help he wants, powerful dude asks for a private meeting on his home field—a home field invariably filled with traps and evil agents and uncovered vats with rickety catwalks suspended over them!”

“We get the point, double-0 seven.” Ian held up a hand to stop her. “Obviously, this whole thing stinks. The question is, what do we do about it.”

“How is ‘ignore the hell out of it’ not an option?” Cyn asked.

“Ian’s right.” Laurel said. “We can’t ignore it. First of all, we aren’t the only people with powers in this town. If he’s after that, what happened when Occult or worse, some amateur kid who wants to make a name for himself goes in our stead?”

“I like how none of you think he might be telling the truth.” Alexis crossed her arms.

“I’m not discounting that at all.” Laurel said. “But its best if we go into this thinking that. And of course, if he needs help, we should give it to him. He did, after all, go to the trouble of staging a press conference to get our attention.”

“T-R-A-P spells trap.” Cyn insisted.

“I don’t see why everyone is supposed to be evil all of a sudden.” Juniper frowned. “First Lilly, now Mr. Mendel.”

“Lilly is pretty evil.” Warrick admitted. “Not serial killer evil, probably, but still…”

“Only high school evil… maybe.” Juniper protested weakly, “And… and Mr. Mendel gives thousands of dollars a year to animal rescues and wildlife preserves and orphanages. How can a man that likes puppies and orphans be an evil mastermind?”

“Maybe he likes them on a bun.” Cyn suggested. Juniper looked truly horrified.

“Anyway,” Laurel cut in, “We should send someone to meet with him.” She looked over the group. “Alexis, Juniper, you two aren’t biased against him, so you two are probably best. Warrick, you should go too. If things do go south, you, Isp and Osp have the best chance of breaking you all out.”

“What about me?” Cyn pouted.

“Yeah, I’m not about to sit on my duff if Al… all of you guys are in danger.” Ian said.

“You won’t be.” Laurel said. “Lilly Goldenmeyer is our best lead so far. You two are on air patrol over her house. Maybe we’ll get lucky and catch her coming home after attacking Warrick and Tina.”

An evil grin crossed Cyn’s face as she looked over at Ian. “Air patrol? Does that mean…?”

“Yes,” Laurel said, allowing herself an amused smile at the discomfort that had suddenly come over Ian’s features. “You’ll be giving Ian his first in field flying lesson. Ian, time to break out the new suit.”

-- • --

“Would you turn down the wind a little bit!?” Facsimile shouted over the roaring vortex that forced her to back wing to avoid being blown halfway across the city. “You don’t kick up this much wind picking us up during training! And we don’t have a fancy cape to keep us in the air either!”

“I wasn’t trying to avoid falling to my death then!” Chaos shouted back, lightening the gale a tiny bit. The ‘fancy cape’ was a heavy mantle made from the same resistant material his normal costume was made from. Codex had specially tailored it with hidden flaps that caught and channeled the wind Chaos generated with his powers, providing lift. In action, it billowed and whipped around him in truly dramatic fashion.

In addition to the cape and his normal black and red jump suit, he wore a pair of wraparound red sunglasses that were embedded with circuitry that gave him limited night vision in place of his visor. He also wore what the others jokingly referred to as ‘the golden gloves’; a pair of heavy, ceramic gauntlets that extended up his forearms and gave the impression of streamlined sparring gloves. They each had hidden mercury channels inside that added force to his right hook.

Flying high above Mayfield, lit by the glow of the city, he cut an imposing figure – except for the look of utter horror on his face.

“You weren’t trying to avoid dropping us, then?” Facsimile accused, skirting the edge of the cyclone that continued to rage around her elder housemate.

“I’ll point out that I never lifted you guys sixty stories in the air.” Chaos gritted his teeth, eyes constantly on the streets and rooftops below him.

“Neither are we.” Facsimile said, matter-of-factly and pointed at a nearby roof that was quite some distance below them. “That right there is where Lisa lives, Kent Towers – it’s about… eighty stories tall.”

Instantly, the waning currents of air ramped up to hurricane force, sending Facsimile into peals of laughter. “No funny, Facsimile.” Chaos admonished sternly.

It took Facsimile a moment to contain herself and wipe the tears from her eyes. “Sorry, sorry. Look, relax. If you were going to fall—which is not likely from the little video game L put together to show how the cape works—“

“The simulation.” Chaos corrected.

“Sure.” Facsimile shrugged, “Anyway, you’d glide to the ground anyway. And if it failed, the golden girl of the Descendants is right here to catch you, boss.”

“Boss?”

“Well, aren’t you? Without Darkness here, I mean?”

“No one’s the boss. Wait, why am I only the boss if Darkness isn’t here?!”

“You want me to make the whip cracking sounds?” Facsimile did a wing over to hover as Chaos had suddenly done. “Because I totally will. I mean, what kind of fearless field general gets carried into battle by a girl, anyway?”

Chaos glared at her through his glasses. “Hey, it’s fast and comfortable. Better than throwing up a tornado and wrecking half the city which is what I’m going to do if you guys keep insisting I fly. Also, I am not whipped. I am the farthest thing from whipped. I am the anti—“

“I get it, I get it.” Facsimile rolled her eyes.

“Damn right you—hey!” Chaos suddenly noticed that he was only bobbing in a slight updraft, his cape buoying him on the pillar of air. He shot an accusatory glance at the winged girl. “You manipulative little sneak. You messed with me to get my mind off keeping the wind up to full blast!”

Facsimile blinked. “Uh… sure. Hey, come on, Queen Lil’s neighborhood is just ahead. With that, she executed another wingover and headed in that direction.

At the same time, across town, Isp looped around the railing and darted its forward edge back and forth a few times before being joined by Osp.

Darkness gave them an odd look as she landed on the balcony of Building Four on the north end of ConquesTech’s complex. “What are they doing?” She whispered over the edge of the balcony.

“Checking for traps.” Alloy explained as the twins lifted him up and over the railing. Zero held on to his back by a pair of handles extruded from his armor. “I mean if it is a trap, he could have had sentry guns on the balcony or something.”

“Couldn’t he have snipers on the other buildings shoot us while we were hanging from the building like that?” Zero asked. Coming from anyone but her, it would have sounded snarky. For some reason, she made it sound like an honest question.

“Well…” Alloy started.

“There’s still a chance that this isn’t a trap and the man actually needs our help.” Darkness calmly. She scanned the expansive balcony and found the sliding glass door leading into the building proper and headed for it.

The tentacles slithered ahead, tapping the concrete tiles that made up the floor all along the way. Darkness looked back at Alloy questioningly.

“They’re trying to trip pressure plates.” He explained sheepishly.

“Couldn’t that be dangerous for them?” Darkness asked.

“They don’t see how. They’re made of that super invincible inugami metal now.”

“They’ve got a point.” Zero noted. “But I still don’t think there’s anything to worry about. I mean Mr. Mendel seems like a good man…”

“I appreciate that.”

Reflexively, Darkness prepared a salvo of black heat while the tentacles swung up into attack positions. Only Zero remained calm and gave a small wave at the speaker.

Lester Mendel sat in a metal patio chair next to a glass and metal table. He had his hands raised as if to show he wasn’t holding any weapons. When the Descendants calmed down, he lowered them and rubbed his eyes blearily. He wore a suit that was clearly well tailored, but looked like he had slept in it. His all business haircut was mussed, and his eyes had bags under them.

“I’m sorry about that. I came out here to look at the stars while I waited for you… hoped you’d come. Please, come with me to my office.” He gestured toward the door and started toward it.

Darkness made a motion for the others to stay behind her as she followed. “It’s very unusual to be asked for help via press conference, Mr. Mendel. What could you possibly need our help with?”

Mendel led them into his office; a homey, comfortable affair with wood paneled walls, high backed leather chairs and a massive desk, which was conspicuously uncluttered. He walked around the desk to his own chair and motioned to the seat in front of him. “Please, sit. I’m sorry there are only two. I could call down to have another brought in…”

“That’s fine, Mr. Mendel.” Darkness said, resting a hand on the back of one of the chairs. “I’ll stand until I know if we’ll be staying or not.”

Mendel nodded. “Fair enough.” He touched the desktop with a light tap. A panel slid open and a keyboard rose up from it. “What I’m about to tell you and show you, I ask that you not reveal to anyone, especially not the media. This isn’t to protect ConquesTech, but to protect my client and her family.”

“Protect them from what, Mr. Mendel?” Zero asked, coming around and taking a seat.

“You’ll understand in a moment.” Mendel said, keying in a quick sequence on the keyboard. A five foot section of the wall to his right dissolved into static, revealing that it had actually been a monitor. Images of blueprints and schematics along with various complex notations appeared on screen.

“A few years ago, another corporation called Wellness Labs developed an advanced physiology scanning and diagnostic system, but for whatever reason, never applied for a patent. I won’t lie to you of all people; we engaged in corporate espionage to acquire these plans.”

“You mean you stole them.” Alloy said quietly.

Mendel ducked his head and avoided looking at the armored prelate. “This is business. We do things we aren’t proud of sometimes to stay ahead of the competition.”

“You don’t expect us to steal anything for you, do you?” Alloy asked.

“What? No, of course not. I’d never ask you to do anything like that, sir.” Mendel said, flustered.

“Continue, Mr. Mendel.” Darkness urged.

Nodding, Mendel did as asked. “Yes, well, the Biomap system wasn’t perfected, as it turned out. We spent two years in R&D to get it online.” The screen changed to show a remote surgical rig suspended over a stainless steal table onto which a lab rat in a cage had been placed.

“Excuse me?” Darkness suddenly snapped. “What did you call this thing?”

“The Biomap.” Mendel said warily. “That’s what Wellness Labs called it. Is something wrong?”

“We’ve seen this before.” Zero said, her voice just a murmur. She hadn’t personally seen it, but she bore the scars from it.

Igniting her black heat, Darkness stomped over to the desk and towered over Mendel, who cringed. “You built this thing? Did you use it on anyone? Did you trepan people with this thing?”

“T-trepan?” Mendel squeaked. “Of course not! The early trials on lab animals… they suggested we might get a better scan with invasive insertion of the scanning probes, but we overcame that problem before human trials.”

“Human trials?!” Alloy shouted. The tentacles rippled, spikes forming and melting away along their lengths.

“I don’t understand.” Mendel mewled. “They were all volunteers—they were all paid handsomely and there were no complications…”

Darkness regarded him with a critical eye for a moment. She was no empath, but Mendel at least looked genuinely scared and not in the way someone did when they had been found out. She released her black heat with a calming sigh. “Hold on.” She held up a hand to Alloy and the twins. “Mr. Mendel, we’ve encountered this device and this process before, though we never knew what it was supposed to do. The people who were using it were using it invasively.”

Mendel paled. “That’s horrible. The reason why that version never passed animal trial was that the invasive scans caused massive trauma. It interrupted the patient’s bio-electrical field and we decided it wasn’t worth it even for the most complete physiological scans. We wanted to use the Biomap to help people not hurt them.”

“How would something like that help people?” Zero asked with pain in her voice.

Mendel spared her a sympathetic look before speaking. “With a complete Biomap of a person, you get a complete, three dimensional recording and diagnostic of them. All of them; their organs, their body chemistry, even their genome—though a great deal of the genome is still a mystery to us. The software can then use the information to diagnose and even predict illness, dysfunction, genetic abnormalities, anything really. At least, that’s what the software is supposed to do. We haven’t managed to get it working in that capacity yet.”

“Just what have you gotten it to do then?” Darkness asked, looking at the image of the surgical rig again.

“That is the root of the problem I called you here concerning.” Mendel said, tapping keys again. The image changed to show a white plastic chair within a Plexiglas tank. It was surrounded by an amber colored mist.

“What is that?” Zero asked.

“That,” Mendel said, “Is the Becoming Chamber. You see, Wellness Lab’s version of the Biomap system was geared toward measuring variance from the human norm on all levels. We found that it was able to detect psionics and accurately predict their powers after one of our volunteers lied about his nature before being scanned. We thought he was running a fantastic fever, but it was just an enhanced metabolism.” He laughed fondly at the thought.

“After that, we split off a team to focus on the ramifications of this discovery. They determined that the Biomap can not only determine the nature of one’s powers, but also the genes and organs, if any, that control it.”

“Wouldn’t that always be the brain?” Darkness asked, “Thought activates and deactivates powers.”

“That’s what we assumed.” Mendel said, “But in reality, in most cases, the brain is actually triggering a different, unique organ. Most of these organs are undetectable without a biomap – replacing, or being augmented versions of preexisting organs, such as pores, tonsils or appendices.”

Subconsciously, Zero started studying the skin of her arm.

“Our most important discovery, however, was that protomorphs still retain their shapeshifting organs in most cases.” Mendel said. “And with the right treatment, we can reactivate them. I called the project ‘Become More’. I hoped it would give protomorphs the chance to truly develop their God given potential—hoped that maybe a few of them would go on to devote their powers to doing good works such as you had done.”

“Why thank you, Mr. Mendel.” Zero said politely.

“Become More…” Alloy wondered aloud. “Where have I heard that before?”

“Sadly, I find that I have to pull the plug on the project.” Mendel said. “You see, we began human trials in October of last year. We began with a sample of protomorphs from the Mayfield metropolitan area. We screened them for disease and mental illness and performed a biomapping of each of them. Five were chosen to receive treatments in the Becoming Chamber – attempting to reactivate their shapeshifting organs to either advance or regress their genetic potential as they desired.”

“Let me guess,” Darkness said, “Something went wrong.”

Mendel nodded gravely. He brought up another image. “Patient number 4, Elizabeth von Stoker. The treatments didn’t seem to work on her as we attempted to regress her protomorphism and keep her spurs from regenerating. A month ago, I found out that her parents had bribed our psychologist to cover up her severe depression and an emergent persecution complex. I ordered treatment terminated.”

Alloy swallowed. Her severe depression. Her persecution complex. Were they his fault?

“That was the worst call I could have made, it turns out.” Mendel continued. “After reviewing the notes, we’ve discovered that the first treatment had actually advanced her abilities. The following treatments had been keeping them dormant. When the last one wore off… Elizabeth transformed. Her brother saw it the last time it happened, two days ago. He gave a sketch artist the following.”

The screen showed a savage female with wings, thick, spiky forearms, clawed hands and feet, a pigeon toed gait and stringy hair.

Mendel gulped air. “A-as you can see, this form she’s taken is very close to that which has been reported of the Mauler.” He let out a shudder. “Which means we created the worst serial killer Mayfield has seen in a decade.”

Inside his armor, Alloy chewed his lip. So had he.

-- • --

“Is this really where she lives?” Chaos asked, observing the cylindrical cluster of towers, all connected by skyways, that made up Archipelago Estates.

“I dunno.” Facsimile shrugged. “I’ve never been here. Codex gave us the address though and when is she ever wrong?”

“No wonder she’s stuck up. Look at this place; terrace gardens, automated janitorial service – is that a hedge maze on that skyway? You probably have to be loaded to be on the wait staff.”

“Well, you can’t spell Goldenmeyer without ‘gold’.” Facsimile shrugged.

“False advertising.” Chaos clucked. “Platinummeyer, maybe. Blackcredicardmeyer, probably. But not Goldenmeyer. Wonder why she’s in public school?”

“I’m sure it’s mathematically possible for me to care less, but I wouldn’t bet on it.” Facsimile replied. “I just wish he parents had sprung for removing her poison tongue. Though now that she’s a serial killer and all, I’m sure her cellmate Bertha will put her in her place.”

“We still don’t have much proof that it’s her.” Chaos said. “We may be barking up the wrong—“He was interrupted by a scream from the central parking garage. “—Or she could be attacking someone right now. Fly me over.”

“Hey, flying lessons, remember?” Facsimile glared at him.

“I need to call the others and I’m still a rookie flier. Get carrying!” Chaos ordered as another scream split the air.

Every person, from the mightiest king, to the lowliest writer, has one or two things that, above all others, invoke within them that elusive emotion called bliss. It can be an activity, an object, or even just a memory. The method isn’t nearly as important as the feeling it gives a person to experience it.

For Lilly Goldenmeyer it wasn’t, as many of those who knew her would suggest, lording over people. It wasn’t being popular or being rich, and it wasn’t even the rare few who were her actual true friends. Happiness, for Lilly came with night driving. Ever weekend night, after she’d cut short whatever date or other engagement she had, she would drive out into the country and enjoy the peace and utter solitude of being alone with her car on the open road.

And nothing made that experience more enjoyable than her pride and joy; a powder blue 2025 American Motors Scimitar coup. The vanity plates said ALL4ME and she had spent months before even getting her license having custom media players, seats, and all manner of other accruements installed. She’d even had it downgraded to gas/electric so she could road trip out in the country over the summer.

All of the affection she withheld from friends, family and associates, she poured into her car. So it is perfectly understandable that upon finding it scratched with deliberate and brutal intent, she screamed bloody murder.

It took a moment, in all her shock and horror, to notice that the scratches, which ran up and down the side panels, the hood, the trunk, and even the roof, spelled something out: FREAQUE.

Catching her breath, Lilly fumed at the vandal. “Who did this!?” Her shout echoed through the parking garage. “I’ll kill them.” She raged, “I won’t stop until they’re dead. How dare they! How dare they scratch my baby!?”

“Didn’t like my detailing?” A low, almost sultry voice said. Lilly’s head snapped around to see who had spoke. Elizabeth von Stoker, transformed, stepped out from behind a pillar. She was just under seven feet tall, her skin rust red. She walked in a pigeon toed manner, her arched ankles seeming more like backward bent knees. Boney spikes, dried and discolored yellow, poked out from her joints and in a double row behind each wrist. Bone plates were exposed along her cheeks and forehead, making a bizarre widow’s peak. From beneath a crown of still more bone, black hair like coils of leather hung. And from her back rose a pair of draconic wings.

This time, Lilly’s scream was pure terror.

If it bothered Elizabeth, it didn’t show. “I thought you’d like it, Lil.” She stepped forward, claws clicking on the floor. Lilly tried to step back, but wound up just putting her back to the car. “I mean, last year, you wrote it on pretty much everything I owned. My books, my flute case…” She reached the terrified Lilly to scratch another ‘F’ on the car. “You even scratched it into my locker.”

Lilly looked up at her attack and tried to shrink. Her rational brain said that she should try to talk this person down, apologize for whatever she’d done, or at least try to remember who she’d called ‘Freaque’ last year. Her reptilian brain wanted nothing more than to skitter for cover and rethink trading in regeneration for a warm blooded metabolism.

“Who are you?” She managed to squeak.

“I used to be Beth von Stoker. But you gave me a new name—and no one stopped you. Because you’re oh so intimidating. Even when you make up spellings. So I’ll keep it.” She lowered her head so she was even with Lilly. “Call me Freaque.”

“This wasn’t supposed to be this way.” Mendel groaned, holding his head in his hands. “I just wanted to help people, like you.” He nodded to Alloy. “You and Facsimile gave me a second chance on that elevator. I could have died and when I got to the pearly gates, there would have been no good in my book. I haven’t been an evil man, but I hadn’t done a good thing in my life. But then two people saved me and didn’t ask anything in return—took great personal risk to do it. It… it…”

“Don’t say it.” Alloy begged in a whisper.

“It inspired me.” Mendel said, unaware of Alloy’s audible groan. “I don’t have any powers, special abilities—I’m not even especially skilled; I inherited this company from my parents. But I do have this company and… I thought I could help.”

Darkness’s cell phone rang. She checked the caller ID and held up a finger. “Excuse me.” She said and headed for the other end of the office.

“You shouldn’t feel so bad, Mr. Mendel.” Zero said in a calming tone. “You didn’t know any of this was going to happen. And, well it did work for those other people, right?”

Mendel nodded. “I suppose. The others chose to be advanced to full metamorphs, able to assume a normal form or their protomorph form at will.”

“See? Those other people are very happy because of you.” Zero smiled even as Mendel ducked his head. She looked at Alloy and said the next part to him as much as to the billionaire CEO. “Sometimes, bad things happen even when you do your best. That doesn’t mean you should stop trying. You should just try to do better next time and learn from this time.”

Alloy was certain he’d heard that on TV, but he smiled under the armor anyway. She was right. He couldn’t stop because of this. But he did have a responsibility to stop the Liz before she killed again.

“We’re on the job.” Darkness said, stepping back to them. “Mr. Mendel, we’ve found her. She’s at Archipelago Estates. We’re going after her. Can you cure her if we get her back here?”

“We’re not taking her to jail?” Zero asked.

“She’s sick, not a criminal.” Darkness said. “If we can reverse this, maybe we can do it without ruining her life more than she already has.”

“We’ve devised a treatment regimen that should work.” Mendel said. “Just get her back here. I’ll have a team and her parents standing by.”

“Archipelago is all the way across town.” Alloy said, “It’ll take half an hour to get there.”

Mendel dug a set of keys out of his desk. “Here. Take my car. It’s on the roof and I doubt the police will have a problem with you piloting a flying vehicle unlicensed.”

“I don’t see why they were so scared of you.” Freaque said, holding Lilly against her car with one hand. “Of course, now they’ve seen something to really be afraid of—me. Even the one person that did stand up to you—stood up to you for me no less—turned out to be a coward. I’m starting to really hate cowards.”

Lilly flinched.

“Oh, don’t be such a wimp, silly gob. I’m not going to kill you. I just want to do something my old self wanted to do for years…” She pulled back her fist.

A current of wind caught Freaque’s wings like a kite on a breeze and threw her back. She crashed hard into the car in the next space. Facsimile was on her in a flash, delivering a two handed slam that knocked her up and over the car into the vacant spot on the other side.

“Guess it wasn’t Lilly after all.” The golden prelate jumped to crouch on top of the car.

“If you think a super strong punch with a spiked fist won’t kill her, you must really overestimate the kid, Mauler.” Chaos said, floating in through the open face of the garage. “Or can I call you Elizabeth von Stoker?”

“Yeah, even I don’t want to splatter—wait, who?” Facsimile asked. Caught off guard, she then caught a clawed kick to her stomach that sent her flying.

Lilly ducked as the young prelate came to land beside her. “You thought I was that thing?!” Lilly screamed at Facsimile.

“Honest mistake.” Facsimile groaned.

“Mauler?” Freaque queried, kipping up and preparing to charge Chaos.

“Yeah, that’d be you.” Chaos said. “You should read the papers more often, you’re famous. Famous for killing people, but we can’t all be spelling bee winners, huh?” He nodded toward the numerous 'FREAQUE'’s scratched into the car.

“I haven’t killed anyone.” Freaque snarled. She started to charge, but another gale of wind hauled her forward progress. It was all she could do not to be blown away.

“Just like you weren’t about to punch Ms. Priss’s pretty little brainpan in?” Facsimile asked, shifting her own wings away before leaping at Freaque.

“Why are you insulting me!?” Lilly demanded. “I’m the victim here!”

“Sh’yeah, this time.” Facsimile said. She lashed stretched one leg out to twice its normal length and wrapped it around Freaque’s, pulling her off balance and sending both tumbling to the ground.

“I said I didn’t kill anyone!” Freaque roared. With one arm, she lifted Facsimile off her and threw her into Chaos, who rolled under his incoming teammate. “But you’re making me come really close.”

“Then we’d better end this right now.” Chaos said, still down on one knee. He spread his hands in front of him and drew them apart in a smooth, slow motion. “Say goodnight, Gracie.” The air around Freaque thinned and exploding outward as the density dropped to almost nil.

Putting a hand to her throat, the transformed student gasped. “What are you doing…” she asked weakly. Her vision started to fade, but her newly awakened powers rallied against the assault. The bone crown grew downward in segments until a ridge ran down her forehead to her nose, and then encompassed it. Suddenly, her vision sprang back to supernatural sharpness.

Eyes flashing on either side of her biological face guard, Freaque leapt for Chaos.

The air was filled with darts of black energy. Freaque drew up short, letting out an inhuman shriek as the tiny bolts wracked her with pain.

“You don’t want to go there, girl.” Darkness said, flying in from the other side of the garage. “Believe it or not we’re here to help you.”

“Help her nothing!” Lilly shrieked. “Kill that thing!”

“You are really not helping your situation.” Facsimile barked, leaping to the top of Lilly’s car. She shifted everything she had into increasing her strength in hopes of matching Freaque’s power.

“No one wants to help me.” Freaque snarled. “Ever. No one gives a damn about me and now I don’t need them to. I’m stronger, I’m more terrifying than anything people like her are capable of.” She pointed a clawed finger at Lilly.

Isp and Osp lashed out and wrapped her, pinning her arms to her sides. Alloy clanked into view. “That’s not true. And you know it.” He said. “Your family cares about you. You’ve got more friends than you realize too. Hell, Mayfield’s superheroes turned out in force to help you. We could take you out in a second, but we’re not. We’re trying to get you back to the people that care about you.”

“No.” Freaque intoned. “It isn’t true. I’m just a burden on my family. I don’t have any friends. The one person that ever even stood up for me abandoned me!” The words were daggers and she didn’t even know they were hitting their mark. “So don’t try to tell me what my life is like!” She strained and roared.

The tentacles sent tremors of surprise to Alloy as Freaque overpowered them and whipped them away from her.

Blinded by rage, Freaque pumped her wings and threw herself at her perceived tormentor. She only made it to within a yard of him before the air solidified into an icy shield which she collided with. Screaming in bloody rage, she clawed at the ice.

“I can ring her in.” Zero said, starting to do just that. “I can’t believe she sees things like that.”

“Mendel mentioned that the treatments may have further unbalanced her neurochemistry.” Darkness said. “Do it. Close her up.”

“No.” Alloy said. “Drop the shield, Z.”

“Huh?” Zero asked. “But—“

“Please.” Alloy asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Don’t do that, she’s just—“Facsimile started but she was too late. The wall sublimated almost instantly.

Throw me. Alloy thought to Isp and Osp. The tentacles complied, digging into the concrete floor and hurling their friend into Freaque. In a role reversal from earlier in the night, Alloy hit Freaque at the shoulders, but in his armor he was twice her mass and the pair careened twenty yards into the back of a minivan. The rear door gave way with a loud snap and a crash, bending, with the help of Alloy’s powers, into restraints around Freaque’s arms.

“Now listen to me.” Alloy said, allowing his full weight to press on his captive. “It’s Kaine, right?”

“What?” Freaque asked, still dazed from the attack.

“Warrick Kaine, the guy that abandoned you—or so you think.”

“Yeah, how—“

“Thought so.” Alloy said, trying to sound matter-of-fact. “I recognized your name. Remember your face from the Arena last year.” Freaque tried to question this, but he silenced her with an armored glove. “Listen, he didn’t abandon you. He… I made him hang back and make sure everyone got clear. He’s someone I trust to get that sort of thing done. Believe me when I say he was really torn up over having to separate from you—but I pushed him to it, understand?” He removed his hand.

It wasn’t a lie. Not really. After all, he had pushed himself to it and that was why he’d left her. It didn’t make him feel any better though. A lot of people had died because he didn’t tell her the truth before.

“It can’t be.” Freaque groaned. “No. I can’t forgive… I’ll get weak again… forget…” She shuddered. The bones in her face receded. The wings, twitching and injured from their trip into the van began to shrink. She didn’t revert entirely – she still had reddish skin and her nails, though now regular nails were still formidably long. Surprisingly, the bone spurs on her arms disappeared with the rest of her protrusions.

“O-oh my god, what did I do?” Elizabeth gasped as the van’s door melted away from her limbs. “What did I almost do?”

“It’s over.” Alloy said, giving her a hand up. “Lester Mendel is going to fix this and he’s also keeping you name out of the papers. All that’s left is—“

Something huge and dark slammed into the armored prelate’s back, sending him flying across the garage. His armor kicked up sparks as he slid to a stop.

“Whatever you were going to say would have been wrong.” A voice like a crocodile’s growl said as its owner towered over Elizabeth. “All that’s left is for me to put this pretender down and show the world that the Devil has come to Mayfield!”

-- • --

Nearly eight an a half feet tall and broader than any normal man could hope to be, the monster sneered at the assembled heroes and civilians. It was a dark, mottled brown, fading to black in places along skin that was a patchwork of pebbled skin and chitinous plates. Its face was long and stretched, like that of a horse or an antelope with huge, flaring nostrils and a predatory mouth that was all serrated teeth and red tongue. A pair of glossy, black horns curved from its brow back toward its spine. A scaly, black tail easily four feet long, twitched and whipped the air behind it.

Unlike Elizabeth’s Freaque form, this being’s wings wear thin and membranous, with wing claws flexing as if ready to tear into something by themselves and its feet were flat like a regular human’s. Its hands, however, were anything but human – three fingers with a thumb on either side; all tipped with brutal claws.

“I was going to let her kill the other girl first.” It mused. “But I don’t appreciate imitations.”

Elizabeth was too disoriented from her transformation to defend herself or even scream. She just looked up at it in shock.

Stinging needles of black heat washed over the monster. He snapped his attention to Darkness and bellowed, snapping his wings open. “Don’t interfere, Mankind.”

“All I needed.” Chaos said. A hurricane force caught the creature’s wings and hurled it upward, smashing it against the ceiling with a tooth rattling thump. “No one’s dying tonight, Mauler. And now that we’re on to you, I think they’re going to have a very special cell for you at Braddock Island.” As he spoke, Isp snaked over and pulled Elizabeth away from Mauler even as Chaos let him crash to the ground.

The Mauler got to his feet, laughing. “Braddock Island? Is that where they send one of you when you go too far? Where Stiles wants to send all of your kind?”

“Our kind, Beelzebub.” Chaos said, sending another gust to repeat his previous action.

This time, Mauler was ready and closed his wings tightly around himself. He weathered the attack, still laughing. “Our kind? You really don’t know, do you? Compared to me and mine, you and the normal Mankinds are variations on the theme. Different breeds of barnyard animals.”

“This is not happening…” Lilly began to mutter to herself, huddling behind her car. “This is all a bad dream.”

“You think this is bad?” Facsimile asked. “This is cake. Just another insane gob-head that thinks his powers make him a god.” She crouched at the edge of the car’s roof. “Too bad for him it’s the end of the line.”

Standing in the epicenter of a vortex, besieged by nettles of black heat, Mauler stood fast. “And what do you expect to do? I’ll break your little golden body and pick my teeth with your wings.”

“Points for imagery, but I was thinking distraction—back!” Facsimile shouted the last part, whipping an extending arm back to grab Lilly even as she threw herself backward. Chaos and Darkness halted their assault to jump clear that the same time. Zero just dropped to a knee and put her palms flat on the ground.

The much abused door of the minivan behind Mauler melted down into metallic slurry before reforming into a piston head and slamming directly into the killer’s back, throwing him forward. Roaring, the beast stumbled, only to slip and fall on the ice field Zero had created.

“Good job.” Darkness praised Facsimile, “Last week’s combined powers session paid off.”

“I can fly, you fools!” Mauler roared, snapping his wings open.

“God, I love fighting things with wings.” Chaos called up a dust devil to catch one wing. Combined with the icy surface of the ground, the move span Mauler around like a turnstile.

“Finish it, Z!” Facsimile called.

The hooded girl nodded and held her hands out to the ground once more. The rime of frost thickened and the concrete itself cracked. Then it gave way. A five foot section of the deck went crashing down to the deck below, carrying Mauler with it.

Howling with fury, Mauler managed to turn in mid air and last out with his tail. He caught Chaos by the leg and dragged him down after him.

“Chaos!” Darkness shouted, flying for the hole in the ground. Mauler rose up on his black wings to meet her.

Back-winging, he landed on the other side of the hole, opposite her. “You can slow me down, you can disorient me, but you can’t hurt me, Mankind. And if you can’t hurt me, you can’t stop me because I won’t stop until I’m dead. And if you can’t stop me, then chaos—“He gestured down the hole. “True chaos, will follow.”

Darkness looked down the hole, horror struck. “That’s what you want?”

“You haven’t been listening, Mankind. I’m not mad. I’m not boasting. I am of the Sai’n’shree, a demon. You can call me the Devil if you please, but all that matters is that my desire is true turmoil of the emotional plane—true chaos.”

Darkness’s terrified face turned into a self sure smirk. “Good. Then you’re about to get true Chaos.” Mauler’s only warning was the rushing of air and the sound like an oncoming train. Chaos exploded from the fissure to deliver a wind backed upper cut with his new, mercurial gloves.

“Let’s see what the ‘sigh and shrieks’ know about the sweet science, you reject of dime store fantasy!” Chaos demanded, following his uppercut with a left hook and a pair of swift jabs to the gut. “All go, now!” He ordered.

Facsimile launched herself, claws out, at the monster’s back while Darkness and Zero hammered it with black heat and ice daggers from the front. Isp and Osp shaped their leading edges into boxing gloves of their own and aimed to work Mauler’s kidneys.

Taken off guard, Mauler suddenly found himself bleeding. The uppercut had made him bite his tongue and his mouth was filling up with blood. The taste and smell awakened more in him than any taunts or threats.

With a quickness that belied his size, he grabbed Isp and Osp in his massive fists and snaked his tail around Facsimile’s waste. The shapeshifter was thrown first, slamming into Chaos and knocking him out of the air. Then Mauler hauled hard on the tentacles and lifted the heavy armor on the other end. Alloy collided with Darkness and Zero. In an instant, the Descendants were in a heap before him.

“Useless. Even after all this time, even with a new kind of power, Mankinds are still useless.” He easily lifted Lilly’s car to deliver the finishing blow.

“Please!” Lilly screamed, standing from her hiding place. “Don’t! Please don’t do this!” Mauler gave her an amused looked. “Leave my poor car alone!” She wailed.

Mauler laughed. “These people risk their lives for you and you care more for some hunk of metal than their lives? I like you a lot.”

“Or maybe She was just distracting you.” A new voice said. “You seem to have a problem with that.” Mauler turned his head one hundred and eighty degrees to see Occult standing behind him, staff at the ready. “Crystalline Reign!” She brought the butt of her staff down. Where it landed, a line of whitish crystal grew, racing toward the monster in a jagged line and growing ever higher.

“The old way…” Mauler mused even as he kicked the growing crystals down. “weak, but it is nice to know it isn’t dead.” Occult gasped. That was her newest containment spell and her most powerful by far. And this… person?... had interrupted it like it was nothing. “No reason to let you try again though.” He turned and brought the car down on her.

Only instead of smashing her, the metal bent and flowed. Then it came apart in ribbons. Then it exploded outward in all directions in a blinding sea of silver. It was like rain or a cloying mist. Sublimated steel actually rained down in some places. It lasted only a moment, but it was surreal and on many levels, unsettling. When it was over, Occult stood alone, amid torn leather seats, assorted wire covers and other sundry plastic or ceramic items in a puddle of cold, liquid metal.

Facsimile was the first to extricate herself from the pile of prelates and stand up. “Wow.”

“My car!” Lilly wailed, leaning on a nearby vehicle to keep from collapsing.

“I’m sure insurance can cover it.” Darkness said, sitting up.

“What the hell did you do to my car?!” Lilly demanded.

“I was trying to bend it around her so it wouldn’t hurt her.” Alloy explained. “But I couldn’t see her or him, so…”

“You turned it into a freaking puddle, you moron!” Lilly screamed.

“Hey, that moron saved you life from not one but two monsters tonight… sorry, Liz.” Facsimile added after a moment. Luckily Elizabeth had passed out long ago.

“Look, we’ll replace everything.” Darkness said, standing up. “I’ve got an email address here…” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a business card. “Just list the damages; your car, the van over there, this garage… and we’ll take care of it.” She rolled her eyes at Codex feeding her the speech through her earpiece. Even Brant Industries couldn’t cover every instance of collateral damage from their fights.

Lilly took the card sullenly.

“I’m going to need to know why you’re here.” Chaos said, ignoring Lilly’s little scene to address Occult.

“A major magical baddy starts killing people and the only magical goodie needs an excuse?” Occult asked, obviously glowering under her hood. “Of course, I didn’t know he was magical until after the fact, but it does explain why I couldn’t track him. I’m betting Ephemeral couldn’t track him either, could he?”

“He isn’t magical, Broomhilda.” Chaos said. “He’s a psionic. One who’s beyond nuts, but a psionic all the same.”

“I know what I felt.” Occult said. “And it was definite magic. Not like Morganna, but magical just the same.”

“Magic? Really?” Zero asked, coming to stand with them.

“No, Z. She’s wrong and now she’s leaving.” Chaos said, glaring at Occult.

“Come off it, Chaos.” Occult said, “there’s a serial killer loose. He just trashed the entirety of Mayfield’s finest prelates, and you’re still on my back about where my powers come from? I’m here to help, just like you and I’m going to keep going no matter what you say.”

“She’s got you there, Chaos.” Codex said through his earpiece. “Plus, she might be right. We couldn’t track him, even while he was right there hitting you. I think an alliance is in order.”

Chaos grimaced. “Fine.” He said, more to Codex than to Occult. “But only until we bring Mauler down. But right now, you really have to clear out. We’ve got personal business to deal with here.”

“As you wish.” Occult said, with a small bow. Then she headed off toward the elevators.

A medical team rushed the gurney with Elizabeth von Stoker off into the depths of the ConquesTech building, followed closely by her mother and father. Rich, her brother stayed to extend his family’s thanks to Alloy, Facsimile and Zero, who had bought his sister back.

“I don’t really know how to thank you.” He said slowly, trying to keep the emotion in his voice at bay.

“Thank Mr. Mendel.” Zero said. “Without him, we wouldn’t have known and we wouldn’t have reached her in time.”

“I don’t deserve any thanks.” Mendel said, “If it wasn’t for my attempts at heroism by proxy, this wouldn’t’ have happened. And from your description of the Mauler, he may yet be connected to my technology.”

“I doubt it.” Facsimile said, “but just in case, Codex would like to snoop through your files.”

“Of course, I’ll send her anything she needs, how do I—“

“Knowing her, she’s already got them now that you’ve given permission.” Facsimile noted.

“Do you really think you can cure her?” Alloy asked.

“We’ll do our best.” Mendel said, unsure.

“That’s all we can ask.” Zero said gently.

“I’d say a picture is worth a thousand words, wouldn’t y’ say?” The speaker was a tall, broad shouldered woman who sported a cascade of red hair down to the small of her back. She was speaking to a man seated across the table from her who was scrutinizing several freshly printed images with a magnifying glass.

“Are we really sure this really is what we think it is?” He asked.

“Tha’ good doctor wouldn’ta sent us if no for findin’ something that suggests a demonic bent to this ‘Mauler’.” The woman replied in a brogue. “An’ I had tha’ parabolic mic on ‘em, Richter. They had a witch with ‘em. She said it was magic.”

“And you believe her? Do you even really believe she’s a witch, Daria?” Richter asked, frowning at the picture. “Both she and this… thing are probably just psionics with delusions.”

“She was a witch, I’m sure o’ it.” Daria said. “Look a’ the picture; recognize wha’ she’s doing there?” She put her finger on the image of Occult casting her Crystalline Reign.

Richter set his jaw. “The same thing those fellows in Arizona were using – they called it the Stone Crystal Road, their ‘benefactor’ granted it to them.”

“She calls it tha’ Crystalline Reign.” Daria said. “an’ I never heard o’ anyone ‘sides us callin’ somethin’ like tha’ up without ‘help’.”

Richter nodded. “Then there may be two devils in Mayfield. We need to investigate at the very least. Assemble the Sineaters, we’re going hunting.”

End Issue #17