Cannonade's Story

Blaring horns shot from the surround-sound speakers of the room, soon followed by a funky beat. Cannonade's right eye peeled open, their left eye and indeed the rest of the face buried too deeply in the mess of white hotel pillows to react to the sudden noise. "Computer, stop..." They said out of the muffled mouth as James Brown's voice began to blare over the beat. "Jesus Christ, computer... COMPUTER." No response.

Cannonade propped their torso out of the cocoon of sheets, briefly blinded by the day-light that shun through the gargantuan windows surrounding the California King they slept in. "Good morning Atlas City! I'm Ron Clark, and this is your morning news! To start us off on a good note, we're listening to Living in America by James Brown-" A voice began to pipe in over the music.

An automated alarm clock? It was the year 2045, not 2001. "Radio off! Computer- radio off! COMPUTER. SILENCE!" Cannonade screamed. No response, instead the American news anchor kept rambling on like a gigantic asshole as the unrelenting wall of sound that was James Brown played.

Cannonade slumped their legs over the side of their bed, defeated as the music blared around them. Out the windows surrounding their bed was the skyline of Atlas City, golden morning rays shining down onto the metropolis. "Computer, hotel computer," Cannonade said in defeat. "Please... shut the fuck up."

"You may not be looking for the promised land! But you might find it anyway! Under one of those old familiar names, like: New Orleans! Dallas! Detroit City! Pittsburgh, P.A.! New Orleans! Dallas! Detroit City! Pittsburgh, P.A.! Atlas City!"

Cannonade had risen, reluctantly, as the listing of American towns continued. They pulled the massive t-shirt they slept in from their body and threw it across the room before stumbling forward in the nude. From an accent table they grabbed a half full cup of water, downing the liquid before dropping the cup to the ground. Down the hall from the branched off bedroom they entered the living area of the suite- couches, a full kitchen, and entertainment systems setup in the carpeted space. And of course, overhead speakers- which, like in the bedroom, continued to play the radio at full volume.

It was a massive hotel room, and even though Cannonade was the only occupant they had already managed to make it a mess in their short time there. Pizza boxes and cans lined the couch, and the floor of was covered in clothes thrown aside from Cannonade's suitcase.

"Living in America," Cannonade murmured in a nasally tone that sounded nothing like James Brown but was still, for some reason, the impersonation they chose to go with. From the ground they'd pulled a familiarly on brand red-shirt and pair of black jean shorts. Then they took a quick hit of a half smoked blunt before ashing it out on the kitchen island.

Cannonade shambled to the balcony, lifting their helmet openhandedly and placing it on their head- a sweaty palm-print left on the glass where they had grabbed it. They did a small skip forward and their feet rose off the ground, hovering over the jacuzzi and then over the rails of their balcony. The radio echoed further and further away from the open doors of their 25th floor suite as the sound of the city below came into focus. Downtown Atlas city: buildings surrounding them, curving highways below, stretching over and criss-crossing along riverbanks and tiny peninsulas to the bay. Atlanta mixed with Miami mixed with New York- a real bastard of the last hundred years.

In the air Cannonade rotated in their descent, facing the hotel behind them. Floor after floor passed- their helmeted eyes peering into each. Families, couples, old men with much younger partners. The usual. No one of interest. No one that looked to be their mystery competitor in tonight's match- the reason they had travelled all the way to Atlas city, after all.

***

Cannonade touched down beside a fountain outside the hotel to the surprise of the streets passerbys and the hotel lobby on-lookers. Those in the in the hotel cafe lowered their papers to spot the unusual occurrence. Not that unusual, mind you, it was Atlas City. There were many supers about- most just weren't so public about it.

The rotating doors spun open and Cannonade marched bare-footed toward the reception desk. They smelt of slept in sweat and marijuana. "Excuse me, pardon me," They called from under their mask to a red-haired, slightly too slick for her uniform young woman behind the desk. "The... the fucking radio station... started five minutes ago, how do you turn it off? The speech control wasn't working," The helmeted figure explained in exhaustion.

Richard smiled and took Ichiro's hand, shaking it politely. "Mackenzie. Richard Mackenzie. Pleasure to make your acquaintances, Ichiro and Yue." He gave a slight nod in the direction of the waitress. "You two must be regulars here I take it? I'm new to town myself, been here about three days. I have to say though, this place seems to attract some pretty interesting clientele." His eyes flitted over to the shorter girl a moment, as if to indicate to the two next to him just one example. Of course, he also included Ichiro and Yue in that, something about them, and their relationship, seemed odd. Brother and sister duo, with one being the other's therapist?

The waitress now made her way over to Sheri, with a pleasant smile on her face, but a little off put by the strange behavior of the girl so far. "Ready to order yet hun?"



The girl at the front desk did a quick up and down of the tall individual who stood there, a little damp looking from sweat, smelling of freshly smoked weed, and swearing quite profusely about the radio in their room. The girl flushed a little in shock and embarrassment. "The ah... The wake up call ma'am? Is the ah, is the button not working? On the sound system on the bedside table? The umm, hotel switched from using voice commands a few years ago. There were issues with ah, feedback loops from the loudness of the system. Were you... Were you not told about this last night ma'am? When you requested a wake up call?"

Shuffling around some papers, the girl's face continued to redden. She needed to move the papers around to seem like she was doing something so she could avoid any confrontation or other awkwardness.

"You did WHAT?!" Cannonade exclaimed for no reason, placing their palms on the desk angrily. The guest behind them in queue for the desk frowned in disapproved. Cannonade let out a long sigh. "When I get back just... please make sure it's off, eh?" They smiled beneath the red glass of the helmet. "You know who I am, don't you?" They questioned. "If so then you know I'm here for important business. Superhero business." Their voice was androgynous, gravelly and deep - one suited for the silver screen if they hadn't dedicate their life to beating the living shit out of criminals instead. "So please, help me out."

Cannonade released the desk and gave a click of their tongue to the receptionist before turning and beginning to march out the hotel lobby, out into the streets of downtown Atlas city. They were indeed here on business though the importance of it depended entirely on who you were. If you were the shady contacts from Monaco who arranged for a private match between Super Roma PC's own Cannonade and another super powered fighter then it was probably very important. If you were a peace-loving citizen it was probably very unimportant. If you were Cannonade, who stood to make a tidy sum and a free trip to Atlas city for a single night of work, then it was very important. If you were the poor, unknown superpowered individual who the Monaco men hired to be pulverized by Cannonade... well, then the importance was dependent on how much they were paying you.

Cannonade emerged from a subway bathroom, their helmet safely tucked away in a plastic shopping bag. They gave a finger gun on their way out to the subway worker who'd witnessed Cannonade confusedly wander into a washroom and then come out dehelmed. If they gave two shits about their secret identity they certainly didn't show it. Cannonade jogged up the steps of the station stairs, emerging onto the downtown street. Crowds were shifting in for the days work. "Living in America," Cannonade repeated as they swung their helmet-bag loosely...

Sirens wailed at the sudden onslaught of violence in the city centre. People fled frantically, pommeling through the park and side-streets to try and escape the unprecedented violence. The street between Atomic Anne’s Diner and Soldier's Park was occupied by the Witchfinder Generals. Between cars filled with frightened civilians and tossed aside bicycles they lay siege siege to Atomic Anne’s. The black-coats with spiritual rhetoric backed up by bullets. The bangs of the machine guns caused the pigeons to flee, up into the golden morning sky. Clouds rolled between the buildings, coated in pink and yellow hues for the light this day was oh-so rich.

And then, from the sky.

Sonic boom.

A black-coat looked up only to be immediately drop kicked from the sky. His legs buckled and his head flew sideways, banging into the hood of a car. The citizen inside let out a scream of fear as atop the black-coat's body a figure rose. From behind the steering wheel they saw a crimson helmet- one they’d seen before in news footage but never in person. 



“Is’ Cannon!” A man laying prone on the ground cheered.

White kicks, long unshaven legs of olive stretching up to black jean shorts. A red shirt on top. Not Cannonade’s usual uniform, but damn was that helmet unmistakeable. Cannonade had arrived in the centre of the pack. A duo of witchfinders began to fire their machine guns at the super. Cannonade raised their hand, the bullets flying down as they reached them and sparking into the ground. Cannonade had increased the bullets gravity mid flight to drop them to the earth. They then ran forward through the rows of flames on the concrete, formed from the sparks of the gravity bound bullets, toward the pair of witchfinders- the crimson hero in the open middle of the street and clearly not giving a shit.

"SON OF A BITCH!"

Vic went from covering her ears to protect them from the horrid, cicada like screeching to tearing the popping earphones away from them in a flash. She snatched the phone from her pocket, eyes darting between its dead, dark screen and the screaming flesh alien, and clicked the buttons on the side of the screen to no avail. "Hey-!" Her head jerked back up to Jemma, eyes blazing with fury, but the thing was already bolting towards the action. She shook her head and glared at the sky, trying to look for the angel above who'd just let this happen to her. "Fucking shapeshifters," she exasperated. With the same tone of somebody who had just been cut off in traffic.

Business man left, calmer than the average citizen fleeing the park for safety. Tall glass of water took his leave, too, running towards the danger zone. Vic was left behind with no music to drown out the melodic lure of bones cracking and gargled screams in a superpowered smackdown. She sucked in her cheeks, crunching down on them with her molars, dropped her skateboard on the ground, then mounted and rolled the other way.

Hey, she was a rockstar, not a hero.

She had a reputation to keep, sure, a controversial one, but not one where she was labeled an active vigilante. That would be a little too much for her agency to tolerate. Or the law. And it wasn't like she could just stand by and watch the show, either. @Vicki Vortex, is this you watching a terrorist attack and doing nothing?! Yeah, piss off.

Besides, these things got out of hand, fast. Especially in a place like Atlas City where the super per square mile ratio was way out of wack. Think punching a person in GTA and how quick that escalates. Somebody was gonna die. That was pretty much what she thought she could hear going on back there, and if she was being honest with herself...

... it sounded awesome.

Nobody can see your face, anyway.

She didn't think about it as her skateboard lifted up from the pavement and she changed her course. She came soaring quietly over the scene, hands in pockets, like an unenthusiastic Silver Surfer with bad posture. The chaos was even better than it sounded from the park and had its own celebrity guest star. A streak of red hair slipped from being stuffed in her cap, but she didn't think about it. She was fixated on the monster tearing through Witchfinders like they were gore filled pinatas. She didn't take the time to figure out whose side anyone was on. Frankly, she didn't give a damn.

Out of nowhere, a Witchfinder found themselves knocked to the ground by the blow from a heaven sent skateboard to the back of the head. Vic plummeted down from the sky, hand gripping the skateboard's front. As the Witchfinder fell forward, she followed, her wheels grinding their skull against the pavement. She hopped off, snatched her skateboard back up, and turned around as her fallen victim lifted their salt-crusted hand towards her, to deliver one, two, three, four - an exorbitant amount of bashes to the head. If anyone looked now, they'd see a random civilian who'd wandered onto a superhero movie set and was giving it their damn best - bloody - shot.

Witchfinder out cold, she shook the blood from her board, rested it on her shoulder and turned back to the monster. Then gave a little flick of her fingers.

Superhero and Van Helsing wannabe alike suddenly had a wall of air shove them aside, thick enough to feel like a solid force. She cleaved a straight line through the battle - a path straight to the monster. She immediately drew her busted phone from her pocket and ditched it at it. It bounced harmlessly off its hide, but got its attention.

"Hey, creature feature," Vic murmured under her breath, glaring down at it with undeniable murderous intent. "You shouldn't have cut off Bob Weir." Her grip on her skateboard tightened as she prepared to launch herself at him. "Or been the biggest motherfucker at this joint."

Jericho turned, focus locking on a new target; through the blur of combat haze, irritation and excitement built into a roar. The sound of a lion’s deafening call, mixed with the warbling shriek of an elk underwater, and undercut by keening tone that warbled glass and eardrum alike.

Vic's heart leapt as the land shark charged her. It was a non-too-regular reminder that it was still there. Regardless, she ran right for it, taking the skateboard off her shoulder. She pushed it along the ground, letting it run ahead of her and through the creature's legs, as its reach breached just a mere several meters from her. Five. Tw- Without a sound, she was gone. Particles exploded out, then faded into nothing. A gentle breeze wafted past Jericho's face.

Whomp.

Vic materialized behind them, feet plonking down on the skateboard. She skidded around, raised two fingers, and mimicked a little "Pow!" of a gun. The creature was pushed forward by the world's strongest air cannon - that was restraining itself. Just a little puff, enough to stumble it. An adrenaline-spiked grin flashed across her face, hidden by her medical mask.

Man... it had been way too long since the last time she'd nearly died.

Jericho had paused at the sound of Alex's voice, had begun turning to locate the massive man who they called a friend, their very first friend. The stench of super powered individuals was overwhelming. It stank like rot, like flesh and meat and hunger.
It stank like glorious power, sweet glorious satisfaction, like a purpose meant to be completed! They would have their carve! But. Alex would be disappointed, perhaps even angry, and survival would be in jeopardy if Jericho kept going the way they were. They had to calm down, they had to back away from the fight, return to hiding! They-

Something clattered off their haunch, the scent of wind-scraped plains, of dust and gale, caught their attention. The air shoved Alex out and away from Jericho, shoved the prey that surrounded the Polymorph away.
The fog descended, and Jericho gave in to their instincts for battle, for the hunt.

There was a brief black-out moment, where J-3 would not remember even moving to attack Scarlet, where it wouldn't remember having its' haunch shoved by a wall of wind that threatened to topple it over. The meat of J-3 would remember turning, flinging a cadaver at 'Scarlet' and rushing her right after the corpse flew through the air.
It would remember cleaving a path through meat that stood in its' way, ripping a witchfinder in twain with brutal efficiency, sending the halves scattering their contents to the ground as they continued with single-minded determination.
It would remember watching Scarlet blocking and deflecting the corpse of a witchfinder with her skateboard, would remember leaping up, spinning about midair, and flexing its long tail.
The length of meat and metal split apart like a horrifying flower. A multitude of eight thinner but no less armored, lined with iron 'fangs', tentacles spread out.
The tendrils swept through the air like whips, and the first three to come into contact with Scarlet's board tore it in half. Another lashed forward as J-3 landed, spearing through the air with the intent to harpoon and kill.
She disengaged her ‘shield’, holding each skateboard piece by the truck like she was about to start dual wielding them, and ducked. Far too slow. Half her face began to melt away as the tendril shot through it, particles floating up into the sky, but she felt the sting. When the tendril whipped away, and she regained a full solid form, her hat had been knocked off and there was a thick, red gash on her forehead, spilling blood down her face and soaking into her mask.

J-3 Unleashed another roar, their chest ballooning outward and swelling with silver-black ink. The sound was that much louder, like a blast of thunder and animal-fury. The noise was a grating bellow mixed with the chittering whine of an insect, the screaming caw of some parrot-like bird supplemented it all. They shook the ground with the force of it, completely lost to the shift and shake of combat. They spun about, swirling on one armored hind leg, as their limbs lashed out at everything nearby. Another Witchfinder lost an arm, the one who ran to avenge her comrade found her face slashed by a clawed hand that spared no mercy or care for her existence.
Meanwhile, across from the whirling dervish, a certain someone thought to themselves.
Christ, that was a big set of lungs. Would be a shame if somebody-
Scarlet flipped her hood back on and punched forward, air cannon engaged. And concentrated. It blasted the creature, and the sickening noise of ribs turning inward cracked over the conflict. The creature’s chest caved in as it was blown back, the air forced out of its lungs. Vic gladly held onto that. And didn’t return it.

J-3 was thrown back, chest caved inward and starved of air. It locked its' gaze on Scarlet, still blinded to reasoning by the thrill and excitement of the hunt. It stood a solid fifteen or more feet away from Scarlet now. The tails on its hindquarters flicked, and lashed forward with an abrupt speed that left them blurs to the naked- or non super eye. Ink swirled on the tips of the tails as they moved, quills of bone and barb forming and soaring through the air between the two combatants. Four sank into the flesh of Scarlet's left shoulder, right and left forearms, and one just barely scraped by her hip as she once again 'POOFED' to avoid the worst of it.
J-3 thrashed for a moment longer, before shuddering and staggering side to side, desperate for oxygen.
The middle of a roar was no time to have the air stolen from you. Asphyxiation was a bitch.

What unfolded in front of Devon's eyes was nothing short of a scene from a martial arts movie as Yue made short work of the ones left standing after his barrage, though a part of the fight had happened outside of his sight including the last of one standing of the assailants. All he had been able to see of him were the flames he attacked with, not even enough to attempt suppressing fire on his location, who knows what or who else it might hit. Combined with the fast pace and close quarters nature of the fight he hadn't been able to add any covering fire aside from that initial strike.

It took him a couple more moments than he would honestly like to admit to realize what Yue's plan was with moving the disabled crooks into a pile in his line of sight, in fact it took until Yue directly signed to him what she wanted. She wanted him to foam the crooks, though he couldn't quite imagine how one were to get up after sustaining the types of injuries that the both of them dished out. That being said, better safe than sorry. He said as he covered the bunch in foam taking the time to make sure none of their heads got covered by it.

By the time he was done covering the pile of Witchfinders in foam, and turning them in an abstract art piece of tangled limbs, heads and sticky goop, Devon noticed that he now was sharing the rooftop view with his impromptu ally. She was overlooking the area to the front of the diner, to which he had pretty horrible overview from his current perch. Which meant running back over the roof to his original position, to the roof without a raised ledge. At least the fighting should still be relatively close to the diner, which should allow him to get close to that edge without being spotted.

Taking his first peek over the ledge he noticed the familiar face, or rather helmet, of the loose cannon that called themselves a hero. In property damages alone they were nothing more than a walking disaster zone. Another two additions among the chaos had taken their aim at the monstrosity, one of them being a... teleporter? No, that didn't seem quite right, especially after the creatures roar was halted in the middle of it and he seemed to be struggling with some invisible ailment, was it suffocating? Whatever the reality was it seemed they weren't allied to the Witchfinders, given the few that he'd just prevented from performing a sneak attack from behind with a few more well placed shots. Rather they seemed intent on stopping the monstrosity's rampage.

He crouched into a position close to the edge popping up the collar of the trenchcoat and making sure it covered as much of his face as possible without covering his eyes. How he'd love to go in guns blazing, but without proper face protection and gloves that was just asking for injuries or death. Still he'd at least give as much covering fire as possible form his position to those fighting below.

Chaos erupted on the streets of Atlas City. Witchfinders getting attacked by supers from all angles. Burglars with mastery over cold, fighters with superhuman strength, a reckless super crashing through the sky, uh...foam? And then there was that creature...After the Witchfinders, whatever that thing was, was his biggest concern at the moment. It seemed to have turned it's attentions from the Witchfinders to some woman. Perhaps she was a super too? Another super jumped in to provide assistance.

Ugh, this wasn't what he was here for. Stupid, stupid decision for him to return to Atlas City. But he had to. He raised his blaster, using the counter as cover and aimed his shots at the Witchfinders. They were the biggest threat to the populace at the moment. The creature could perhaps wait. And maybe be dealt with. He didn't quite get the feeling that it was something that would require him to step up just yet.

He slapped the side of the blaster once, giving it a blue sheen. Stun would do for now. No point in killing the Witchfinders when he could leave as many alive as they can for someone to question. He fired several shots at any Witchfinders left unengaged, hoping to temporarily neutralize them before they did any further damage to the city's denizens, utilizing the counter as cover should they try and fire something back.

Cannonade ran forward, leaping into the air and flying high into it- as though whatever force was keeping them on the ground disappeared beneath their feet. And just as quickly as they shot up they flew down again, punching one of the two black-coats in the face. His hands let out a spuddle of fire as he splayed out cold on the concrete. The second witchfinder, who had not stupidly injected chemicals directly into his bloodstream, grabbed for his gun. Cannonade ran forward, headbutting their helmet into the man's face and bending his nose sideways. They then kneed him right in the puritans before sweeping his legs out from under him. The witchfinder fell onto the hood of a car, out cold.

Around Cannonade the remaining witchfinders were being mopped up left and right- local heroes on the scene. Between the cars they spotted a man with skin made of what looked like oil and the red eyed face of a demon. Cannonade hesitated at the strange hero but stopped as they witnessed him take out a witchfinder with hand-claws.

Suddenly, a beast of a creature flew into the side of a truck beside Cannonade- blasted by air. It looked like a mutation of an animal, silver bones and unnatural muscles rippling through the beast- and blades growing out of it's face. Cannonade frowned. The witchfinders had brought a monster.

"Ay, dickhead!" Cannonade screamed at the creature as they began to march forward. Their hand reached up to their helmet and after a moment the side speakers began to blaire an announcement in italian:

"PENALE! METTI LE BRACCIA DIETRO LA TESTA E ARRENDITI-"

"No!" Cannonade cursed under their breath as they adjusted the helmet's setting to the correct language.

"CRIMINAL! PUT YOUR ARMS BEHIND YOUR HEAD AND SURREN-" Before the english automated voice could finish Jericho let out another cicada like screech. Cannonade's hands went to the side of their helmet at the sound. The red AR display before their eyes began to flicker as the helmet's power died. "-The fuck is this?!"

Cannonade frowned, their helmet now offline. They did a skip and hovered up into the air. Near the creature, between the cars, was a tall, dark haired man. Alex, unbeknownst to the Cannon. "Citizen!" Cannonade called down. "I'd take cover if I were you!" Cannonade then plummeted, smashing into the earth beside the beast of Jericho and sending a gravity weighted punch into its mutated form.

There had been no response at first. A couple of people had come forward once the racist had been dealt with by Sasha. they checked to see if Akiko was okay and handed the bags of cat food to her. She thanked them, hair covering her eyes, as she had eventually turned towards her savior. However, something had already caught his attention and he was gone.

Screaming and loud sounds of fighting were beginning to emerge and the people around Akiko took off quickly. Some stuck around for video but the scene seemed to be growing with activity, with supers. Calmly, Akiko found a nearby alley and deposited the bags of food. She closed her glowing eyes and disappeared.

Or rather, just turned invisible.

She took off from the alley towards the fighting and took a spot near the edge of the newly formed battleground. Cannonade had just arrived and the fighting seemed to be escalating even more. What struck her most at the moment was how familiar some of the supers looked. Akiko's eyes widened and she realized she had seen some of these before. At the park and at the diner, Akiko had nearly run into a good portion of them.

Now, though, now she could see them more clearly. Akiko adjusted herself and kept a close lookout on the way the fighting was panning out. The writhing feeling in her chest returned and she could see a shadow in the corner of her eye.

Help!

Akiko's eyes glowed a light blue but no one would see. She knew though. She knew her eyes had changed but made no move to step forward.

Not yet.

“And you’re sure about this?” Klaus quirried, his eyes darting over the strange wrist-mounted device before him, taking in every detail of its sleek design. The glass and steel gadget before him hummed to life with a blue glow.

“Absolutely, my friend,” With this we can experience all of history,” The wide-eyed scientist began as he eagerly strapped the device to his wrist before reaching for Klaus’s hesitant arm, “We can watch as the Great Pyramids rise and while Rome burns. Experience the birth and death of those who have shaped the modern world, experience the first democratic vote in Athans, the sky's the limit! Anywhere within time is ours to explore!”

Klaus smiled as the tech was applied to his wrist, “Well, I’m all for adventure.”

“That’s the spirit! I knew you were the right man to tell about this! My students you see, they haven’t been made aware of this experiment yet, my TA has been covering my lectures ever since I had a breakthrough,” He stopped for a moment, quickly looking at his datapad, “here we are, this should be good!”

Klaus watched his colleagues' fingers dance across the small display on the device, the words “Chrono Dialer” appearing before being replaced with four input fields: Date, X:, Y:, Z:. Implying they worked by inputting the desired day one wished to travel to as well as the geographical coordinates. Klaus understood the real technology must be housed under the glass display, and the inner workings were a complete mystery to him, though he could see many charts and notes strewn about the lab, all of which made no sense to him, yet.

“Here, yours is ready,” the scientist eagerly handed him the Chrono Dialer before strapping a second to his own wrist. With a smile and nod to encourage Klaus to do the same.

“We stand at the forefront of a revolution my friend, those novels you teach your classes will simply cease to be fiction, and become reality. The possibilities are endless!” with that he gripped Klaus’ wrist, clicking a button seamlessly built into the side of the Chrono Dialer before clicking his own.

A flash of light and a rushing sense of nausea replaced the world as Kalus lost all semblance of reality.



A flash of light erupted in front of Atomic Anne’s diner and from the light a figure appeared on the sidewalk amidst all the chaos going on around the sleekly suited super. Static sparked against his suit as the pressure around him normalized. In a flash he began tossing small disks that then attached themselves to the various WitchFinders, slowing their movements as they became out of step with time.

The other Supers would notice their enemy's reaction times were seemingly non-existent, their trigger fingers slow on the draw, their fire, and salt extinguishing, and crashing to the pavement below as the concentration needed to maintain their power and that power was no longer in step.

A final disk would attach itself to Jericho, slowing the out of control shapeshifter enough for Alexander to apply some pressure. Of course, the effect of the disk on a creature like Jericho wouldn’t last long as its biology would destroy the foreign invader with ease, but against a shape-shifter, every second counted.

With disks dispersed and time shuttering for the WitchFinders, The Cobalt Clock got to work, his fist collided with the face of a WitchFinder stuck with an expression of disbelief at his appearance. The contact between the two rendered the timeshift moot as he crumpled to the sidewalk, Cobalt securing the disk from his coat as he fell.

Before relief even set in as it looked like Jericho was coming to their senses something sent Alex flying. The feeling was disorienting to say the least. it wasn't impossible to throw Alex around but he wasn't used to the sudden lack of stability. He took a moment to reorient himself and cursed. His barrier armor had dissipated from the sudden attack. He would have to work on that better, cant loose focus even when tossed around if lives were in danger. He was snapped out of his thoughts by the roaring. Jericho. Shit he had to get back in the game, it wouldn't take long before someone came along that could hurt him badly. or worse, kill him. Alex pushed himself to his feet with a grunt. He had landed between some cars so nobody had a clear view of him just yet. Fighting was still happening around him, but the sounds of the witchfinders zealous screaming wasn't as load as before. at least that was something.
A quick glance around one of the cars showed Jericho, A rippling beast of flesh and metal fighting . . . Scarlet? why was she attacking him? she kept disappearing and reappearing while some invisible force seemed to damage Jericho's body. Alex almost though it was some form of teleportation coupled with telekinesis until he heard it. the whistling and howling that accompanied each strike against Jericho. Okay, not psychic powers. It was wind, or was air more accurate? Didn't matter, he had to act now.

And that was when Cannonade of all people decided to just show up, who also seemed to think Alex was a citizen. Alex clenched his jaw but held back the urge to correct the celebrity hero. He wasn't in costume after all and hadn't had the time to make his temporary armor again. the fact she was here was a good sign thing were going to get wrapped up soon, hopefully. Or at least Alex THOUGHT that was going to happen right until Cannonade sent a punch aimed straight at Jericho. oh no. No no no NO. That was the last straw.
In a split second, Alex's eyes flared with incandescent blue energy as he threw his hand open hand towards the gravity hero with a loud yell. His outburst sent thick wall of force field energy manifested itself while flying fast towards Cannon, practically blindsiding her with the force. The wall kept going for a few feet after the initial impact, pushing Cannon away from Jericho.
With no time to waste anymore Alex charged towards his friend, tackling the polymorphing beast near what he hoped was their neck and held on for dear life. With another flash of energy Alex began to form a dome around Jericho and himself. Effectively trapping the two together in an increasingly fortified dome.

Jericho seemed more sluggish in their thrashing, for what reason, Alex wasn't sure. Worry flooded his mind that he had taken too much damage. He had to get him to focus. Holding on to a panicking shapeshifter's body was not easy in the slightest. Jericho didn't like being trapped but Alex was left with little to no options. Tendrils of sinewy muscle covered in all manner of bone and metal protrusions whipped at Alex's body in an attempt to get him off. Even with nothing so much as bruising or breaking skin the pain was starting to pile up. He had to take it, Jericho would just get worse if he stopped now. After a moment of searching he found an eye the size of a dinner plate blinking and darting around frantically. "Jericho! Look at me! its Alex! Hey, hey hey hey its going to be alright. I got you. I need you to calm down buddy. look, its just you and me all domed off, nobodies hurting you. Without thinking he began gently patting and rubbing his hand across a patch of still shifting flesh, trying his best to be gentle. "I'm gonna get you out of here, but i need you to get your head in the game. Shit's still going down and we have actual Hero's starting to show up."

Before Cannonade's fist could connect they were hit. The black haired man giving a scream was the only warning they got before a sudden smash of energy consumed them. Caught off guard and with no time to brace Cannonade's body flew sideways over the heads of those present, smashing violently into the window of a nearby shop like a ragdoll.

Sasha had backed off from the fight, allowing his power to fade, taking in the confusion of the battle. Blood splattered Sasha's face as Jericho and the others tore into the supposed villains, holding nothing back and seemingly having no hesitation in murder. Sasha wiped his face, his mouth twisting in disgust, wondering if fate was playing a cruel joke on him.

Cannonade went flying past Sasha, prompting the Russian super into action. Crossing to the shop, Sasha leaned down to check on the veteran superhero.

"You all right?" Sasha asked, frowning. "That guy seems to pack quite the punch."

Yue rose to her feet, clenching her fists. It was going to be now or never, she had to step in and stop that shifting mass before more people got hurt. She inhaled sharply, her eyes flashing red.

Ginr- The creature was gone. One single spark of crimson energy escaped her chest and spiraled down her right arm before vanishing. Her eyes darted about the battlefield until she found it again fighting... Vicki Vortex? Yue ran along the rooftops to follow the fight, jumping across the gaps where necessary just in case she still needed to intervene. Vicki's aerokinesis was the primary reason Yue had tech install a backup respirator into her armor, and Ichiro had so much Vicki Vortex merchandise that there was no way Yue wouldn't recognize her when the hood came off.

Yue crouched back down on the ledge to observe, although she came halfway to her feet when the large man blasted Cannonade away with some sort of force, telekinesis she guessed. One of the combatants that had come to help went to check on them and Yue settled down a second time, seeing the large one wrestle the creature into a dome of sorts. At least it was contained for the time being. She exhaled slowly.

"Nante fuyukai (How unpleasant)," she muttered, scanning the rooftops briefly to locate Devon and then surveying the battlefield. She didn't find Ichiro in the fray which was a relief. He was probably helping civilians get out of danger and treating anyone with injuries. Most of the Witchfinders had either been incapacitated or killed, and it looked like the fight was winding down. That uneasy feeling hadn't gone away though, and she couldn't help but think she was missing something important.

The leader of the Witchfinder General hit squad coughed out yet more blood, his vision becoming hazy as he laid on the ground, the life slowly draining from his eyes. "*HACK* B-B..... BALTHAZAR! BALTHAZAR THE DESTROYER!!!" His cry echoed out across the street. As he gazed up into the sky above him, he felt his life leaving him, but the last thing he saw before it was abruptly cut short was a car falling on top of him.

The tall, monstrous Witchfinder from earlier stood on the street again, now alone, all his other comrades now either dead or captured. His outstretched arm remained in the air a moment longer after it had tossed the car that landed on the now deceased Hit Squad leader. The Giant's other arm was next to his side, fist closed, but as it opened it released seven hypodermic needles.

Empty needles. The Boss fight had begun.

"PUUUUUUURGE!!!"

The Witchfinder roared with the low, monstrous bellow. He aimed his arms at the various heroes and supers around, unleashing a torrent of fiery, molten salt at the enemies that surrounded the area. The flash of blue had particularly caught Balthazar's attention, causing him to rip the door off the truck Cannonade had previously been thrown into before being tossed into another building. Balthazar flung the door in the direction of Cobalt Blue, following it up with more salt and fire.



Richard looked to the right side of the diner, standing outside was the giant of a man that had thrown Yue through the window. His eyes widened slightly as he tensed up. This guy was not human, not even close. He waited to see how the other heroes would respond, but the new comer (Cannonade he thought he heard? Sounded kind of familiar) had been tossed into another building, and some of the others seemed caught up in their own fights.

"Hey pal?" He called out over to Henry. "Hope that thing has a kill setting on it. You're going to need it."

After Richard quickly reloaded his gun, he vaulted out the diner window and onto the street, firing off three shots at Balthazar's head. Two went through, the third knocked his hat off.

As the hat hit the ground, Balthazar's massively deformed head became visible to all. The place where the two bullets had hit was a now dented steel plate sewn into the monsters scar covered head. His entire face was a patchwork of stitches, decaying skin, and bits and pieces of metal and wires. The Witchfinders had employed a monster to hunt other 'monsters'.

"Guess you're going to take a little more work."

Balthazar roared at Richard, and the two charged toward each other. As the two closed the distance, a glittering blade formed on Richard's right hand and forearm, coming to a sharp, knife like point that protruded 3 or 4 inches out from his knuckle.

The beast of a man swung a right hook at Richard, but he quickly dipped down and dodged to the left, sending his right fist up into Balthazar's jaw, puncturing it and tearing through his mouth. Richard broke off the shard of ice and pulled away from Balthazar a few steps.

As the giant turned to look at the masked ice wielder, the ice blade fell from his mouth and shattered on the ground. Balthazar's jaw was split vertically into two, loose hanging halves that swayed as he moved. He swung his right arm and sent it crashing into Richard, tossing him backwards and sending him into a roll across the pavement.

"PURIFY!!! PUUUUUUURGE!!!"

He reiterated with fiery hated.

"As you wish." Richard muttered through gritted teeth, as he got back up, firing off three more shots.

The bullets passed through Balthazar's neck. He seemed unfazed as a trickle of thick, brown liquid began to make its way out of the holes in his neck.



Maxwell smiled as he pulled out his cell to amuse himself and the girl, but he soon noticed it wasn't working anymore. That was... Odd. And unexpected. He'd have to get that dealt with later. "I'm sorry, seems like I'm at a loss for that too. How strange." Maxwell looked the girl over, and then Kingsley once more.

"Since I can't help you, perhaps you can help me. I'm rather curious what it is you want with Mr. Kingsley?" He smiled kindly at the girl, intentions well hidden behind the soft face.

"Okay...okay, okay, this is good," Henry sighed. Heroes had seem to crawl out of the woodwork in order to put a stop to the Witchfinders. He stood up. Now would be the perfect time to make his escape. More than a few people had seen him, but if he moved some of his plans up ahead of schedule....he may be able to secure a safe place to hide out in. At least for a moment.

"And I'm outta here...." he thought to himself as he began to run out the back, same way the civilians had exited the diner, out the back entrance. He poked his head out the door and froze right before he could turn the corner. Some of the diners and wait staff were being spoken to. He couldn't see the figure fully, but he caught the shoes, caked in dirty water. Dress pants, not too cheap, not too expensive. A woman was speaking to the civilians, her voice, sharp and direct. "Damn it."

Henry slowly closed the door, careful to not even make the slightest noise, even though the battle outside was making a cacophonous ruckus that drowned out nearly every miniscule sound. In fact...if the Witchfinders were too preoccupied with their foes, perhaps he could escape through the front, unperturbed! Henry began to turn around and....and once again, things happened too fast.

Perhaps he was too lost within his own thoughts to pay attention to what had gone on outside. But now, it was clear the situation may have gotten worse. The large Witchfinder, the one who had tossed the woman out the window. Seems like he was some kind of patchwork monstrosity, far more of a threat than his cohorts. And he's supposed to be one of the clowns that call other supers demons?! This shit was unreal.

"Hey pal?" He called out over to Henry. "Hope that thing has a kill setting on it. You're going to need it."

"I don't know if it's needed..." Henry looked up at the for everyone was engaging . "Not sure if it's make a difference either way..."

The frozen burglar had already gone to engage him. Henry was sure the other supers would join him soon, but if this thing proved to be a challenge, then....well. Henry's hands balled into fists. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that. But for now, he could provide support. He draws out his blaster, firing some blasts at the mutational's legs. Probably would feel like an inconvenient sting in the long run, but a distraction could be beneficial to the others hoping to engage the bastard.

Jericho found themselves slammed about, asphyxiating at first and then abruptly able to breathe once more. The sound of battle was fading from their hearing, and a quiet- in insistent- pounding was echoing against their mind. The Hunt kept calling out to them from some unknown distance, and their vision and focus was disoriented. It felt as if they were pushing through mud, but the mud was existence, and their body just wasn't right. It was a vaguely familiar sensation, as if they were dreaming... Their flesh shifted, swirling yet again with ink before a maw filled with tombstone shaped teeth formed on the patch of skin that held a strange device. Some sort of power was being emitted from it, and the cicada scream from their EMP generator was doing nothing.
So they crunched it. The abrupt opening and closing of a jaw with the strength twice that of a hippo flattened and destroyed the object attached to them.

The world was still blurry, and their vision was suddenly filled with Alex's! face.
A gentle pat across the 'unarmored' part of Jericho's ribs brought them further back to reality, farther away from the siren call of the Hunt. They knew he was talking to them, and they understood the words, but the meaning behind them just wasn't computing. Their mind was foggy and sluggish, the rush of combat was only just bleeding out of their system.
The sound of Alex's voice was filtering in, and the calm-panic in his tone shook Jericho to the odd core.

The first friend they had ever had, and they sounded fearful, but of what? Of them? Of the battle? They needed protection didn't they, shit. "Nrh. Hold on. Will protect you. Make you safe." They grunted out, their voice distorted and mixed together with the sounds of a tiger growl and a boar's grunt. They shifted then, dropping the combative form and instead switching to the shape of a large, amorphous metallic... Blob. Jericho swooped upward, surrounding Alex and cocooning the other super in a protective shell. They extended upward from there, forming a small, humanoid torso on top of the metallic sphere. The torso had no eyes, no mouth, no nose... But it did have a multitude of arms that were lined with jagged blades. The torso swayed back and forth, and was turned towards the squabbling group of Supers.

'Protect.' Said Jericho's instincts. So Jericho positioned themselves to protect.

Vic thumped down onto the sidewalk like a passed out drunk, her clutch on the monster's lungs released. She looked down at the pincushions that were her arms with a quiet, monotone "Ahhhhhhhhh" of pain. They stung like crazy. There had to be some kind of venom in these quills, something sourced from the biggest, angriest wasp. Vic pulled down her mask, hissing out a string of curses, and tore each quill out with her teeth, spitting them out to the side. Her eyes flicked across the battlefield towards her opponent as she did, in time to see Cannonade blasted across the street. ...Damn.

She hauled herself up to her feet, blinking through the flow of blood dripping down into her eyelashes. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand then smeared it thoughtlessly across her chest, giving the NSFW print of a 90s style cat girl splayed out there a bloodbath. Her target was bubbled by an impenetrable force and just ate the man who'd done it. Well, that was a shame, she supposed, as her gaze already locked onto the new biggest brute on the field. She pulled her mask up and disappeared...

... reappearing half a second later between a truck door and some guy who looked way better equipped to deal with the threat. She tapped her foot, which was entirely unnecessary in her power using process, like every movement was, and the hurtling truck door was sent flying upwards a good fifty feet and sent soaring over their heads to become somebody else's problem. Her hands then shot out, and a wave of air tore through the onslaught of fire and salt. That wave swiftly built into a powerful vortex, charging at the behemoth and contesting his control of the salt. It crashed into him. Small, stinging grains of salt tore through his attire, bit at the skin beneath and assaulted his eyes, while the roaring wind obstructed his hearing.

Vic glanced over her shoulder to the man behind her, as she nonchalantly rolled her wrist with a finger pointed skyward, like she was conducting the tornado, other hand in pocket. That suit's technology looked state of the art, NAHLA worthy. Her eyes flicked up and down it, then she quirked a brow at him.

"Hey. You packing a laser beam in that?" She asked, with the same tone of someone asking if you have a lighter. Her shoulders jostled with a small shrug as she turned her head back around to Balthazar. Still struggling and failing to escape the salt flinging tornado following him around while Vic kept on moving her finger in a continuous circle. "Think we could all do with a classic right about now."

"There it is," grumbled Yue, snapping her fingers as she pushed back to her feet. The leader was calling in his trump card, the enormous brute that had thrown her through the window in the first place. Somehow she'd lost track of him during all the fighting. Yue's eyes darted across the battlefield, taking stock of everything that was happening. She couldn't help but flinch as the car landed on the Witchfinder leader. She didn't feel bad, these were people that had not only threatened her, but her family as well... still that would have been a promising lead to bring back.

She clenched her fists. This was it, do or die, no turning back; this was the time to take action and end this. She took a deep breath, filling her chest with energy and- Vicki was already there, intercepting the truck door and pushing back the stream of molten salt with blasts of wind.

Yue deflated slowly, slipping her hands into the pockets of her track pants and observing from the rooftop. Vicki was a lot stronger in person than her database file had implied. In fact Yue guessed she was the most dangerous super on the field at the moment. Lacking imagination maybe... or perhaps having skipped a few too many science classes. The thought tugged the corners of her lips into a frown. Perhaps it was just jealousy that Vicki had an ability that didn't destroy everything it touched, herself included. She was just pushing the notion from her mind when she noticed the shapeshifter slurp up the young man that had gone in to contain it and adopt a defensive posture. Yue clucked her tongue in thought, glancing from one battle to the other.

That's when she dropped from the rooftop onto a lamp post, sliding down gingerly and then striding purposefully across the street. She paused only momentarily to casually step on the groin of a Witchfinder that was trying to get up.

"Stay down, or I'll break it," she warned in a tone that suggested she was just... done.

Yue approached the metallic creature, stopping at the edge of what she'd guessed its striking range was and locked... she couldn't find its eyes, but she leveled her burgundy gaze at it purposefully and prepared herself with a breath, just in case. She was still for an excruciatingly long moment, as if observing its reaction. The morning light glinted off the fragments of glass embedded in her arms and blood dripped slowly from her fingers to the asphalt. Her shirt was torn where she'd been hit by the salt, exposing a deep, bleeding scrape in her side, and the flesh on her right shoulder was already red and peeling from where she'd been burned by flames.

"'Oi, Cannonade! They have a bruiser, 'Windbreaker' needs your help so get off your ass! I'll take care of... this," she called out in the direction Cannon had been thrown without taking her gaze off the creature.

As Sasha peered into the broken window a queue of frightened civilians burst out the door beside him. Cannonade lay sideways in what was once a display of produce, bananas mashed against their form. The bodega shopkeeper coward behind the counter. Cannonade let out a long sigh before giving a thumbs up to the unknown voice of Sasha. "Ya. Ya I'm good."

WIth a grunt they pushed themselves to their feet, brushing some of the mush off their body. WIth their forearm they wiped their helmet clean and gave a huff. They were bruised up from toe to back. "Oh god, this sucks," They exclaimed as they began to walk to the exit, their helmet swiveling to face Sasha as they moved.

The bodega's shop bell rang as the the door swung open. Cannonade exited miserably, looking out onto the scene with the strange oil-slick demon of super. "Whoever did that was a literal dickhead," Cannon commented.

"'Oi, Cannonade! They have a bruiser, 'Windbreaker' needs your help so get off your ass!" An authoritative voice called. Their eyes narrowed onto a woman circling the creature Cannon had tried to take out when they had been suckerpunched from behind, though it's form was shifting into something silvery. Gross. The woman taking this thing on had the voice of someone who'd done this before. NAHLA or a lesser government agency, maybe even a private company.

Cannonade's gaze shifted to the front of the diner. The massive leader of the witchfinders blasted out fire and salt at the surrounding supers. He screamed as his attacks were interrupted and he was caught within a chaotic looking whirlwind. They saw their opportunity.

Cannonade cracked their neck before leaping into the air. They hovered high, sailing across the battle-field until they reached an apex. And then they plummeted, down into the eye of the Vortex. Bits of banana flew outward and sprinkled onto the surrounding supers as they descended within. Boots first they collided with Balthazar, making contact with the witchfinder's back, smashing him into the earth then leaping off the man and landing beside Violence Vic. Cannonade breathed heavily, their knees feeling like they were ready to collapse.

The situation had seemed relatively under control, however the leader of the witchfinders just had to open his damn mouth, unleashing the giant from before who decided to take about 7 times the recommended dose of that drug they carried along with them. The monster roared and threw attacking in the direction of the most recent addition to the battle, all while suppressing a few other with burning molten salt that he launched in similar ways to what the other Witchfinders had done.

It all had been a flurry of heroes trying to contain, first Mackenzie stepped up to the plate trying to use good old gunfire, and a bladelike ice shard when those failed to kill. A secondary attack with modern ballistics proved more successful, except Devon just couldn't feel quite comfortable about that brown liquid that was 'bleeding' out of the monster, he had no clue what that stuff was and no intention of finding out. Meaning explosives and anything else that would cause that liquid to splatter all over the place was out of the question. A few more shots from an unknown source were fired from an attacker he couldn't quite see, though their projectiles did reveal they were using something rather extraordinary.

The second attacker was the skater girl, though upon closer observation of her powers and the few red hairs that escaped her disguise in all likelihood he was faced with either miss V herself, or a copycat who had been ever so 'fortunate' to receive similar powers though would such a person actively try to hide their identity, he doubted it. She had thrown the truck door into the air, no doubt with no particular destination in mind, so while she was busy keeping our drugged up Frankenstein's monster from killing anyone Devon made sure that the door wouldn't squash someone like an overripe watermelon. Of course the best solution to this problem was a 'moderate' course correction caused by a hail of high kinetic bullets allowing the door so 'gently' land against an already damaged nearby vehicle. The vehicle in question may or may not have been reduced to scrap value in the process.

Yue then agitated the loose cannon into action, who almost as if it were it's instinct to disregard anything other than the adrenaline rush, jumped into vortex of scorching hot salt performing a move straight out of super mario... And causing a spray of banana mush to fly everywhere, as if they couldn't make a single move without causing a mess. They subsequently jumped out of harms way, quite visibly fatigued.

With miss human cannonball out of the way and the vortex keeping any other potential melee attackers at bay there was finally a window to unload on the ironically named berserker. Devon did not waste a moment and lay siege to the brute with a hail of bullets. First there was lightning arching wild after each and every impact ravaging the nerves and ceasing up muscle to the point where muscle fiber started to tear itself apart.

The beast roared in agony unable to move more than it's face without tearing up it's own muscle, but even that thunderous roar was cut short when the second wave hit... Frost, the first of which was aimed at the homunculi's windpipe which he had conveniently exposed with it's roar, because Devon was quite honestly getting a headache from hearing the only words it's peanut brain could form and a nice chunk of ice forming inside there should help keep it quiet. As the other cryo ordnance impacted the patches of frozen flesh and cracking metal started to form, forming new inhibitions of movement.

Finally the third wave a nice and friendly mixture of high kinetic rounds aimed at the frozen spots hoping to shatter them like an ice cube under a sledgehammer, Armor piercing rounds aimed where one normally would expect vitals to be and more electrical bullets just because he liked how it made the slab of rotten meat twitch the first time. However it seemed the creature had both spotted his position and hadn't been fully restrained as a wave of that burning salt was sent his way. Devon ducked away as best he could using his trenchcoat as a shield, but it could not prevent a few of the grains gazing him on his left cheek. God damnit, that hurt! Throwing salt in the wound and trying to cauterize you at the same time, yeah... This thing wasn't going to leave this place without being destroyed to the point to where you'd need to mop up the remains.

Cursing under his breath Devon ran away from the ledge that had been his vantage point, back down the fire escape. If he had been in his whole suit instead of just the trenchcoat he would have happily stood there taking the brunt of the damage and laughing it off while dishing out a torrent of destruction, but this is the real world there are no what if scenario's, you just have to roll with the punches and that meant pulling GTFO and finding a new firing position.

As the goliath Witchfinder turned its attention to Devon, Sasha reviewed the situation, activating his power once again as he waded into the hailstorm of superheated salt. Balthazar had taken a lot of damage, and his head had begun to take on more of the shape of a potato than a human skull. Despite this, the savagery and insanity in the Witchfinder's eyes was no less intense.

"You're certainly big," Sasha growled, impervious to Balthazar's salt and seemingly unbothered by the heat. "But drugs were the wrong way to make yourself stronger."

Balthazar turned at Sasha's voice, and threw a punch the size of Sasha's entire body at the calm Russian. Sasha sidestepped the blow almost faster than the eye could see, his own fist lashing out to connect with the giant's knee, creating a loud crack that was followed by an even louder bellow from the Witchfinder.

As the knee buckled, Sasha twisted, his foot lashing out with a blur, slamming five times down the midsection of the giant, each blow striking a vital point. Grasping the collapsing Witchfinder's coat with a roar, Sasha flipped what remained of Balthazar over his shoulder and into the concrete, cracking the pavement.

"Surrender," Sasha said to the downed cultist. "Don't make things worse on yourself or your... friends."

Richard raised a hand to cover his eyes as Cannonade came crashing down into Balthazar, soon followed by a flurry of attacks from some guy up on the roofs, and another fellow who approached looking like something from Dante's Inferno. The monster of a man looked almost inhuman now, his flesh melting and dripping to the ground like thick mud or rotten fruit. Richard flicked a few bits of banana off him as that realization kicked in.

Balthazar gazed up to the demon man that stood before him, the Witchfinder's face was now a nearly bleached skull with metal and wires stitched around, keeping his warped looking head together. The creature could no longer speak, but it wasn't hard for Sasha or others to tell that it was laughing, up until its loose hanging jaw-halves dislodged from its face and fell to the ground.

Its chest burst open as a torrent of thick brown fluid fired out at Sasha, who managed to dodge in time for the liquid to hit the ground, causing toxic burns on the pavement. Before Sasha could do anything else, the group noticed Balthazar was holding something in his hand now, which he had pulled out from under his coat.

A grenade launcher.

As the long tube aimed up at the group in front of Balthazar, Richard quickly got to work firing back at the monster again, hitting it in the arm, chest and neck, with the pistol in his left hand. Richard's right hand was empty, aimed towards the grenade launcher now, his eyes widening and heart pounding against his chest as he tried to prevent-

Balthazar pulled the trigger. As the grenade inside hit the ice wall that was built in the barrel, the whole device exploded, tearing through the Witchfinder's arm and reducing it to ribbons of flesh, and shards of bone. The creature swayed a moment, its flesh and body parts beginning to steadily fall from its body, a result of all the damage sustained by the onslaught. It toppled onto its back, laid there a moment not moving, before Balthazar began to violently spasm and shake, ending in a crescendo as an explosion tore through its chest and the rest of its body.

Richard gazed upon the shredded remains of the monster, then took a quick look around at the rest of the group. No one seemed to have moved for the last moments of its life. The explosion had come from something inside of Balthazar.

"Nice bit of teamwork." He muttered to the others, giving an approving nod to everyone who'd helped in the battle of Atomic Anne's. "Everyone okay?" He asked sympathetically. It soon became apparent to him he'd not been fully aware of other events in the battle, taking notice of the other monster that had seemed to absorb some big guy who'd been here only a short while. Richard took a short few moments to take some breaths, and plan his next move against this... Thing.



Maxwell sighed as Sheri made a call, to whom he wasn't entirely sure, but it was evidently either law enforcement or a hero organization. "I do believe I was quite clear on communication devices." Maxwell muttered over to Kingsley, a soft smile on his face, but great agitation laying in his eyes.

"Well Miss, it appears you've interfered with my business transaction with my client. Normally I would take a different approach with a situation like this, but it appears there is no rectifying this situation." Before Sheri could react, he pulled a gun from inside his jacket, aimed, and fired.

The bullet went through Kingsley's head, sending it back to the ground as blood quickly pooled out. "A shameful waste of time and money. And for what I wonder?" He smirked as he turned back to Sheri. "I assume you're being paid for this. Well, I congratulate you on that. For what it's worth though, I expect the pay could be far better. Indeed, the pay I offer is almost certainly far better. He smiled warmly at her as he placed the gun back in his jacket.

"At the very least, your powers could be put to far better use than... This."

The battle was over and an opportunity was created as Sasha walked towards the others. The main Witchhunter was dead and Akiko could see a small glowing orb where it had stood in its final moments. None of the others seemed interested. They didn't see it after all.

Akiko's breath grew slightly colder and she began to walk cautiously but quickly. She had a couple of minutes before the orb would disappear and she knew the others wouldn't be still for much longer. The strange monster was now the one carrying the attention but it wasn't for a good reason. There was tension in the air and Akiko wanted to be out of the area if things went sour. Not that it would affect her much but it was better to be careful.

Her steps were light and Akiko navigated the debris with ease. Her movements were deliberate and practiced because ghosts can't make sound. Akiko could however.