Summary found here


“You do know there’s a reason why my door was locked?” A woman’s voice heavy with irritation said from a nearby room.

Closing the door behind him, the man towering a few inches above six feet slowly looked around the spacious living room. Taking off his darkened sunglasses, the man slipped it into the inner pocket of suit as he walked towards the source of the voice. “I’m guessing it’s the same reason you're way up here in the middle of nowhere.” Reaching the first room that branched off the hallway, the man saw a woman in her early thirties sitting in a recliner in the library with a far-off gaze in her eyes.

“Yes and the same reason I had a security system in place that you and your men destroyed.” The woman said, still with an off distance stare.

“We wouldn’t have to do that Tia if you responded to us and don’t even give me the excuse that you didn’t receive our messages. We’ve seen you messing around with our files since we contacted you.” The man said as he walked towards the window and peaked through the blinds.

“Don’t worry, there’s nothing out there except for your support vehicle waiting at the front gate, like where you should be.” Tia said before closing her eyes. Opening her eyes again, she looked towards the man, giving her attention to him for the first time since he arrived. “Listen Carter, I’m not going back. We ended all this six years ago for a reason, why are you trying to get the team back together now?”

“I wouldn’t be here trying to gather the team if the situation wasn’t severe.” Carter said with a sigh.

“Why don’t you send Pearson and his team, they can handle it.” Tia said with a disgusted snort as she recollected past events.

“They haven’t been informed about what happened. Technically the Sierra Project is still decommissioned and who knows what issues will arise if Pearson got wind of this. The military is still not happy with everything that happened last time.”

“So let me get straight, you want the team to become rouge? What the hell are you thinking?” Raising her voice, a look of dismay was written on her face.

“You need to look at this.” Carter said as he handed the woman a file. “You haven’t seen this yet since it was kept in a handwritten format.”
A silence filled the room as Carter patiently waited as the woman read the report. “How long ago was this?”

“Yesterday. Someone stolen three of the ten remaining vials of the serum. However, the surveillance system is corrupted so we don’t know who has taken it nor do we know where the serum is now. You know as much as I do what one vial can do, I am concerned what events will unfold with three.”

“So let me get this right, you want to cover up this mess before it gets out of hand.” Tia asked handing the folder back.

“I want to stop this before something serious happens. Not only the States, but the world is not prepared to know about the Sierra Project. Not only can we not allow this information reach the general populace, we can’t have a bunch of people with abilities running around. Do you know chaos that would cause?”

“Not to mention what would happen if Cameron is behind all of this.” Tia said with a clenched fist. “Oh god, but this means I’m going to have to leave the mountains.”

“When’s the last time you’ve been in the city?” Carter asked. Although he wasn’t a person that was affected by the serum, he spent many years and understood the drawbacks that some of their powers caused.

“I think it was two, maybe three years ago when I visited Arron and Annie for the afternoon. It’s hard to focus when I’m bombarded by all the technology in the city. Out here, I’m able to grab and chose what I see.”

“Well, you better start practicing. We have work to do.”




A sigh escaped Jenna's lips as she stood holding tightly to the overhead strap above her. One things she didn't like about riding the bus on Saturday, especially during the afternoon was how crowded it got, especially with tourists and rowdy teenagers. After the disastrous taco night yesterday with her friends, Jenna was glad to be going out to eat later that night after spending the afternoon with her friends at the mall. Feeling her phone vibrate, Jenna pulled it out and checked the text that she received. It was her friend Emma wondering where she was. With a chuckle, Jenna released the overhead strap as she carefully kept her balance as she stood on the moving bus. Over the years she spent riding the public transportation, her balance as well as her confidence without holding the overhead strap grew to the point that she wasn’t afraid of falling over.

While she was busy typing away at her phone, she noticed that her balance was suddenly lost as the bus suddenly tried to stop. “Crap!” Jenna exclaimed as she quickly tried to grab the overhead strap but was too slow as the bus abruptly halted as it crashed into a FedEx delivery truck in front of the bus and slid forward on the floor. “Oh god.” Jenna muttered as she sat up. Her hands were bloodied from being scraped across the ground and she could feel a bruise waiting to form on her right leg due to someone accidently stepping her during the crash but overall, she was fine. Her phone was missing but that wasn’t her biggest concern at the moment.

“Are ya’ alright.” The bus driver said slowly getting up from his seat as he assessed the damage. She heard a few mumbles from a few of the passengers and a few had minor injuries but overall it appeared to her that there were no major issues.



With a briefcase in one hand, a man in his late-fifties walked down the sidewalk. He could already feel his back start to tighten in protest due to the crash but he knew he couldn’t stop. He was already behind schedule due to the bus crash and since Cameron doesn’t carry a cell phone due to Tia, he couldn’t contact Cameron to say that he would be late. It was a challenge retrieving the vials and took a lot of preparation to make sure that the vials wouldn’t lead Mr. Carter to them but things seemed to be working out.

It didn’t take long before he arrived at a small park with a pond at the center of the park. It was a simple park without much to attract people to visit but it was perfect for them to use. “You’re late Dr. Wilson.” A man in his mid-thirties said looking at the scientist with a briefcase as he joined him on the bench in front of the pond.

“It was unintentional Cameron, the bus was in a wreck which caused a delay.” The scientist said as he handed the briefcase to the man. “However, I have the vials that we need.”

“Perfect. It amazes me that no one has done anything about the corruption caused by the Sierra Project. However, if things go according to plan, we will be able to fix things Wilson.” Relived that things were going smoothly, Cameron grabbed the briefcase and rested it on his lap before he opened it. The man’s look of relief quickly faded as he looked at the content and noticed that one of the vial was broken. “Wilson, do you know what happened here?” Cameron asked in a venomous tone as he tried to hold back his anger.

“H-how did that happen?” Dr. Wilson mumbled mostly to himself as he looked at the broken vial with confusion. “The only thing I can think of is that it broke in the crash.” He couldn’t believe what was happening. Their plans would be screwed up with civilians getting involved. “We need to find them quickly. The serum doesn’t show it’s affect until about four hours with a migraine followed by a flulike body ache four hours later due to the transformation. The first signs of their power appearing should occur twenty four hours after being introduced to the serum.” Glancing at his watch as he tried to remember exactly when the crash occurred, he quickly calculated when the first signs would show. “That means around seven they’ll start to have a headache and the body aches will start about eleven. It’s going to be hard to find them before three since many people will have aches and pains due to the crash.”

“We can’t delay. Carter is probably already trying to figure out what is happening. We have to stay ahead of him Wilson. We have to find the people that were on the bus.”

”Ugh...” Ranae leaned over the counter, placing her hands on her head and closing her eyes. She had told the ambulance workers or whatever they were called that she was fine. Besides a few scratches and bruises and the embarrassment of stepping on a beautiful woman’s leg, she had been fine. Maybe it was the after-effect of the crash, but now she felt this sharp, crushing headache throbbing through her head that made it hard to think or concentrate. Ranae was trying her best to focus as Saturdays were always busier, even at night, but this damned headache ...

Suddenly she felt her shoulder being tapped, forcing her to open her eyes and feel the sting of the store's lights in her eyes. Her gaze turned to the would-be disturber to see it was the boss, a handsome if geeky looking young man with modern glasses. He always been a nice and understanding guy and didn’t hold the fact that she was a lesbian against her, which made Ranae respect him despite the city was starting to go down the drain lately. ”Hey... You know, don’t worry about your shift. Just go home and get some rest, okay? You can come back Monday.”

How could she really argue in her current state? Well, even if she could, she simply didn’t care to at this point and simply nodded. She felt a bit guilty for not replying verbally, but she just felt too much like shit to care right at this moment. The ironic thing though - she needed to catch the bus back home.



Beep! Beep! Beep! Her hand quickly fumbled for her phone as she slide her finger across the screen to shut the alarm off, breathing a sigh of relief as the room filled with silence again. She hated that alarm, but she had to consistently remind herself that it was one of those alarms that never failed to wake her up on time. She slowly slide up against the wall, sitting up and rubbing the sleep away from her eyes. Ranae hadn’t slept too well last night, though she began to realize she was feeling a whole lot better, which was a bit odd. The night before she was beginning to feel sick and cursed her luck seeing as today she needed to go to the dojo - but now whatever sickness she had experienced was all but completely gone.

’Should count my blessings,’ she thought to herself before a small furry animal jumped into her lap and started to purr. The cat instantly brought a smile to her lips and she started to pet the animal. “Hi kitty,” she greeted her companion in a happy tone, scratching behind Alixs’ ear. She leaned forward and placed a small kiss on the cat’s head before crawling out of bed and yawning. “Gonna be a long at training - didn’t sleep so well, Alixs.” Her eyes went down to the cat, whom only replied with big eyes and a loving ‘meow.’



Ranae had found this little gem of a dojo about a year back. It was a small gym placed in between buildings and never got much attention, but unknowing to most people in New York city the instructor was a humble manthat was also an absolute master of mixed martial arts; Aki Himura. Though none of his students really knew a lot about him, he only took on students he believed to have a ’light’ in their hearts - people with morals and courage. Ranae had always been flattered to be one of only seven students under his direct mentor-ship and had surprised the older man herself by picking up his teachings so quickly.

Of course, she was no expert and really only budding into a skill level of journeymen, but she found a lot of techniques and exercises that she learned from paid tutors were flawed and clumsy - Aki taught her better ways of controlling her movements. Today was a test between him and her, to see if she was ready to setup into a journeyman’s skill level, as Aki used actual skill as opposed to the tried and true belt colors. He didn’t mean to glorify their accomplishments by material things but rather give them a real sense of where they stood as ever-learning students.

The other six sat on the sidelines below the main mat which was raised on a platform only meant for sparring and class. The two stood opposite of each other, bowing low as a sign of respect before shifting their feet and bodies into ready positions. ”Are you ready, Ranae-san?” While his teachings were often honest and unforgiving, Aki himself was a kind and understanding man that truly cared for his students.

“Hai, Sensai.” With that phase, they began to move and circle one another for a few moments before Aki did something unusual for him - he attacked first. Usually the older man was content on being on the defensive, often explaining that a true master didn’t use his power to bully but to protect loved ones, but there was purpose behind his actions. Often people you had to fight did not share the same ideals and would attack first. As he darted forward, sliding his foot forward as if he was going to kick her, she felt a little weird.

There was something in the way he moved, a shift in his body, the angle of his foot - Ranae was sure she would’ve caught that normally and blocked the incoming punch, but somehow she saw it much faster than she could before and snapped her eyes up before opening her palm and grabbing her master’s fist. Both of them instantly blinked in surprise as they stared at each other for a brief second.

’How the hell did I do that?’

Vida woke up form her comas like sleep with two purring cats on her back. One had the nerve to keep touching her face with it's paw over and over even though she had been swatting it. "I'm up!" she groaned and rolled over knocking the two cats off of her. It didn't really seem to bother them as her old cat, Co-co Bear, made his way to head butt her 'good morning'. Her younger cat Baby sat just out of hands reach meowing over and over again until Vida had to sit up and pet her. After the cats had both had enough she pressed her phone to see what time it was. Noon.. a whole hour before she had to be awake. "Great. I guess this means I have to play with you guys, right?"

She threw the covers off of herself and looked down to her ruffled clothes. She groaned again and took a wiff of what she was wearing. "Gross" She stated as she peeled off the layers and made her way to the bathroom, of course followed by her loveable minions. After her shower and a game of shoot the cat with a water gun she got out of the shower. Making her way around the mess of an apartment she picked up random articles of clothing and sniffed them to see which ones were clean enough to be worn. Picking out a pair of jeans and a shirt that had a small stain at the bottom she put them on. No one really cared what she looked like. She was going to wear a uniform later any way. Feeding herself and her cats she left her apartment for her shift at the restaurant. "I guess this means I have to apologize for yesterday and work twice as hard."

She made a run for the bus hoping to catch an earlier one so that she could show up to work early. Nothing made a boss happier than a punctual employee. She made it in time for the early bus, thank goodness. Everything was going perfect. She was on time, she was clean, she forgot to brush her teeth. "Crap.." She mumbled to herself. Though brushing her teeth was the least of her worries when the bus decided it wanted to be part FedEx. FedEx, now delivering your mail and people. She was sent into one of the railings followed by a few other people that pressed her hard into it. She thought she heard a snap, but she was sure it had to be the breaks or something.

Everything was chaos after that as people were asking if everyone was fine. Some of the people were bleeding others holding limbs that had been hurt. She heard someone calling an ambulance and people outside yelling to us inside. Pushing on the people that were on her she noticed a man opening the doors to the bus. "Good." She said to herself. She didn't have time for this. She was going to be late for her shift if this kept up. Crawling over a couple of people she ignored the names they called her as she exited the bus. Making a break for it before someone tried to stop her she bolted down the street in the direction of her job.

Luckily during the wreck her face wasn't injured and she could still work. Steadily throughout her shift though she could feel a headache coming along with a pain on her side. When she had changed her clothes she noticed a bruise on her ribs, but had dismissed it since work was more important. She waited on all her tables throughout the pain and the splitting headache. After her shift she changed back into her street clothes. While she was changing one of the other waitresses spotted the bruise on her side.

"Oh my god!" She announced loudly. "Girl, are you ok?" Vida didn't acknowledge that she was talking to her until the girl grabbed her shoulder. "What's your name... Vianna?"

Vida looked at the girl confused and a bit shocked she was talking to her. "No." She said bluntly. "I am not a mini sausage. My name is Vida."

"Whatever." The girl spat back at her. "What is up with your side?" She sounded less concerned now.

Vida looked at her side as the bruise that had gotten much worse. "Nothing. Got into an accident."

"Did a bus hit you or something?"

"Well..." Vida hesitated. "In a way."

The conversation ended with the girl has Vida abruptly left the changing room to leave. Somehow Vida made it all the way back to her apartment without passing out from the pain. She was sure now that she had broke something, but she didn't have the money to afford the medical bill. Making her way into her apartment she got a far as closing the door before she passed out on the floor. So much for her good day...

John was in the middle of listening to 'There is a light that never goes out' when he was launched headfirst into one of those pole-things that had those buttons that made the 'ding' sound to tell the bus driver to stop at the next stop. Of course, the bell didn't stop the bus as much as the fed-ex truck did. John woke up confused and with a splitting headache. The headache wasn't nearly as bad as the pain in his wrists. His eyes fluttered open slowly to reveal the underside of the roof of an ambulance. He attempted to sit up, only to fall back down out of fatigue. He tried a second time and was exponentially more successful. He moved his hands to stead his balance only to feel a searing pain in his wrists as he did so. Much worse than the one he had when he woke up. He made a short groan before quickly moving his hands in front of his face to reveal the fact that his hands were bandaged from the bottoms of his fingers to the bottom of his wrist.

John closed his eyes and attempted to recall the past events that led up to his newfound inability to give high-fives. He was soon greeted by a medic who informed him of the events that had happened about half-an-hour ago. The medic also informed him that he had smacked his head off of a metal pole and in the process sprained his wrists while trying to stop the impact by raising them. The medic then gave him some painkillers and returned to treating the more seriously wounded victims. John snuck off soon after and walked the way home.


John woke up a lot better rested and with a lot less pain than he did the night before. He just lay in bed, staring at his ceiling for a minute or two before sliding around and getting out of bed with a groan. He rubbed his face with his bandaged hand and made his way to the kitchen. He poured himself a bowl of cereal or whatever the correct terminology was for making a bowl of cereal. This thought had never really passed through John's mind until now. He would be more intrigued if the subject were bacon. The mighty pork scratching known as bacon, god of all foods, god of all meats.

John snapped back to reality with a firm palm to the forehead. His thoughts had been ... random in the past, but thinking about how great bacon was when he had to leave for work in a few minutes was just ... strange. He thought nothing more of it and finished his cereal off quickly before getting into his 'uniform'. Strictly speaking his uniform changed for each case he was on, but usually he could wear just about anything he wanted. He did dress at least semi-formally usually though. Soon enough, he was out of the door, waving to the old woman that had agoraphobia and often thanked, John way too much for picking her mail up for her, and leaving for the bus. Just in time this time. A lot of people may have had some sort of trauma after what had happened the night before to John if it were them. John thought nothing of it though. He didn't let a lot of things get to him.

His bus journey was relatively straightforward. And, by straightforward I do mean that in the literal sense. The route the bus took had hardly any twists or turns and probably could be mistaken for the number nine down the yellow brick road. The places John passed on the way though were rather mundane and bland. He did pass his old boxing gym on the way to work while on the bus. Aah, what memories of being beaten up and beating others up in the name of good fun he had at that club. He practiced boxing a small bit in his teen years and then practiced it a lot when he first came to America before stopping altogether.

Eventually, John reached his destination. He sighed as he realized the amount of paperwork that had to be done on the case previously and the case he was about to take on. One of the many downsides of investigating a homicide case. He trudged his way into work and then to his desk before staring at the giant pile of paperwork that his boss had probably gleefully placed earlier. His boss had a bad habit of 'mistakenly' placing some of his own paperwork on John's pile. He leaned back in his chair for a second or two before getting to work.


John had finally finished the behemoth of paperwork that was before him a few hours ago. It could have probably been done a lot quicker if he hadn't dilly-dallied quite so much. Regular breaks to go to the bathroom where he played on his phone, drawing doodles on scrap paper, heck even staring at the ceiling was better than this. He exited work gleefully and headed to the Chinese place down the road from his work to get early dinner or late lunch depending on how you look at it. The guy who ran the place also served you your food, mostly because it was a family run business that scraped by each month. John liked the owner, he was relatively friendly with John other than the casual racism he threw around while assuming that John was actually from China like himself. John just kind of took it as a joke and went about his day without getting worried about it.

John entered through the 'authentic' oriental doors. The wind chimes jingled as the door bumped against them but were soon interrupted by the callings and arguments of the owner and his daughter. They both worked in the kitchen and took turns operating the front desk which was actually rather baron at the moment, par a few more 'authentic asian decorations. The store owners daughter was American born and had an accent as such. She was still in school and was kind of forced into the family business by her father. Soon enough, John was greeted by the middle-aged asian man dressed in a raggedy chefs outfit.
"Welcome! John, always great to see you! The special I presume?" John grinned
"What else could I choose, Wei?" He asked rhetorically. The old man just grinned before returning to the kitchen and returning around ten minutes later with John's meal, prepacked in a plastic bag. John had the money ready and laid it on the counter before making small chit-chat while, Wei got his change.
"Had much business recently, Wei?"
"Same faces really, a new guy moved in across the road, some stoner or something, he comes here a lot with his stoner buddies" He made a hand gesture in anguish
"If you ask me they should be thrown out for stuff like that, but then again it puts more money in my pocket" he laughed. John laughed a tiny bit along with him, but it was more of a courtesy laugh than anything. Wei handed John back his money while he responded.
"Not really my department, Wei, I'll see you later" To which, Wei nodded before returning to the kitchen as, John exited.

It was hard for Adam to tell if his headache or his boredom were more painful. For what seemed like hours he had waited in the emergency room lobby, too 'hurt' to be allowed to leave yet not bad enough to warrant immediate attention. The events of the crash that had landed him here were already fading, which was strange to him; it seemed like such an event would leave a terribly lasting impact upon his mind, but already the image was slipping away. He remembered sitting comfortable in the back end of the vehicle after thoroughly thanking a young lady who had given her seat up for him (she insisted that her stop was imminent, but Adam was sure she was being kindhearted--a true Samaritan. Not that he was of such an advanced age to explicitly need it, of course, but refusing the offer would have been poor manners) and peering out at the bustling New York cityscape through a smudged window. Suddenly there were load noises, crunches and steely shrieks, and a bone-rattling impact. Adam had been spared severe injury by propping himself up with his legs, having been involved in a collision while aboard public transportation about three years prior, but the woman who had bequeathed to him her seat wasn't so lucky.

Though the emergency squads appeared promptly, somehow cutting through the dense traffic congesting the busy streets, they were preceded by flocks of gawking onlookers who offered no assistance to the people in the accident. That much Adam remembered. Before long the civilians had gone their separate ways, dismissing the collision as merely another casualty of their city. Adam marveled at the callousness of it; did the big city strip its countless inhabitants of compassion for their fellows? Adam had concluded he wouldn't stick around to find out and would depart back to Pennsylvania at the next opportunity. The bus crash put something of a dent in his enthusiasm for touring the Big Apple.

For now, though, he was stuck in the emergency room...or the lobby, rather. While there had been no major issues on the bus, the paramedics had insisted some of the passengers be screened at the nearest clinic for less-than-obvious injuries. Adam had been at the forefront, rushed to the dreary-eyed medical personal to make sure none of his elderly bones were broken, and left to sit in the waiting room while the more perilous hurts were assessed when he was found to be uninjured. The 'doctors' were almost all young, barely out of college if Adam judged correctly. A few hours in and he couldn't help wonder that if, in their youthful rush, they had forgotten him. A headache accosted him in the meantime, starting out tolerable but growing more intolerable with every passing minute. Finally he could stand it no more, and with a brusque wave in the general direction of the person behind the counter he left the clinic. He had hoped to stay until he could make sure that the young lady who'd been so nice to him on the bus was alright, but he assured himself that her kindliness would bring fortune to her side.

By God's grace the lot were he had left the family car was only a block away from the emergency service clinic. On the way he popped an ibuprofen from a little metal case in his wallet and downed it, careful not to allow the crowd to jostle the object from him. He felt an obligation not to mentally label some of the people around him as suspicious, but the suspicions lurked in his mind nevertheless. He was finally alone when the roar of the city was muffled by the frame of his car, providing a hint of relief from his pounding migraine. Drawing strength in the assumption that he was on the road to recovery, he slid his key into ignition, shifted into reverse, and eased his way into traffic. The outdated GPS flickered on and he inputted his desired destination into the device as he waited at the first red light. A few seconds later he was homeward bound.

Hours passed and Adam was forced to pull into a roadside motel at about dinnertime, feeling terribly ill. Home would clearly have to wait until tomorrow, but since he had originally planned to head back to Pennsylvania tomorrow evening it mattered little. Dinner would have to wait as well; the very notion of eating made his gut convulse. He bought a room for the night from a clerk who managed to look even more decrepit than Adam felt, though this individual's hands was neither sweating nor shaky like Adam's. Was this some sort of flu? Perhaps he had gotten it in the emergency room. Not long after Adam shambled inside, waves of stifling warmth and nauseating cold washed over him and the energy drained from his body faster than bathwater down an unplugged drain. Wondering why God would allow him to survive a bus crash almost unscathed only to suffer at the hands of some sickness, he collapsed into bed after placing his valuables in a bedside drawer, and gradually drifted into a fitful sleep, still in his clothes.