[center][h2][b][color=#23F794]N[/color][color=#21F19D]a[/color][color=#1FEBA7]t[/color][color=#1DE5B1]u[/color][color=#1BDFBA]r[/color][color=#19D9C4]a[/color][color=#18D4CE]l[/color] [color=#14C8E1]S[/color][color=#12C2EB]e[/color][color=#10BCF5]l[/color][color=#0FB7FE]e[/color][color=#10BCF5]c[/color][color=#12C2EB]t[/color][color=#14C8E1]i[/color][color=#16CED8]o[/color][color=#18D4CE]n[/color] [color=#1BDFBA]A[/color][color=#1DE5B1]r[/color][color=#1FEBA7]c[/color] [/b][/h2][/center] 

[b]Location:[/b] Ironworks
[b]Present:[/b] Present 

While the battle within the Ironworks had been going for some time, Gene Corporation rolled out. From somewhere near the docks, four large and unmarked trucks barreled their way toward Cowl’s coordinates. Their wheels moving at steady speeds while they navigated the winding roads and highway systems through Maine. Never once did they stop off before reaching their destination as time was a critical factor. 

Hidden within three of the trucks was about a hundred men, each stood upright and waiting for deployment. They all looked identical with no identifying mark to connect them with Gene Co. Their figures were all dressed in black, head to toe, with only minimal differences in apparel. The chest, arm and legs were covered with pliable armor made to withstand projectiles. Their facial features and heads were covered in a thick helmets with a reflective visor for vision protection. All of them were armed with plastic guns and several rounds of anti-meta rounds, each a tranquilizer filled with serum that was able to neutralize the natural occurring meta genes within individuals.

The trucks rolled into a short distance from the Ironworks when a loud explosion erupted. Metal and concrete rumbled from the conflict occurring within as sounds of guns and explosions fired off randomly in the background. Each truck immediately grinded to a stop in its tracks. A loud clicking happened when the back end fell down with a thump and several men filed out. A few individuals held back, their arms reaching in for several bags and turret like devices. They tossed them down as flash grenades tumbled out then abruptly snatched up by passing men. 

As the men scrambled to aid Cowl’s hired muscle, Tristan Abel propped open the door and jerked out from the driver side of one of the trucks. His boot hit the ground with a gravelly thump. Straightening upright, the blonde haired man smirked at the commotion starting while he reached up then flicked off the cherry red tip of his cigarette. 

“Sounds like someone is tossing a hell of a party.” Tristan remarked, his tone filled with confidence and a cocky nature. His accent sounded British in origins, his figure pulling around the vehicle’s front. He was dressed in a polo shirt, ironed slacks and covered by a tan colored duster. 

The man’s shaded eyes turned upon hearing someone else exiting the truck. Tristan's lips widened in a crooked smile upon spotting Dr. Black moving out of the passenger side and gradually coming to stand behind him. 

“Doc,” he began using a common nick established by the experimental volunteers, his arms raised in a harmless gesture, “get back in the vehicle. It's too dangerous out here and can't do my job with that on my mind.”

“Oh, Tristan. I didn't know better, I would say I had grown on you…”

“Nay, it's not that. Who's going to fix me when I break and that's why I value your life.” Tristan corrected. 

Dr. Black simply smiled then turned on heel back to the truck, leaving the would be on-loaned Merc to his own task. Tristan inhaled, his pinky shifted a lone bang from his face then hopped to business. 

[center]****[/center]

[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/uvX201s.png[/img][/center]

The concrete bindings immediately crumbled when she was placed within. For several seconds, Racheli just laid there and waited. Her tongue finished mending as she grunted in pain, her arms aiding her rise to her feet. She was weak and wobbly like a new fawn. Twice she nearly collapsed back to start, her weight leaned upon the smooth wall while she struggled to remain upright. A cough rattled through her system making a fresh wave of pain overwhelm the old ach. 

[color=indianred] “Fucking bitch. When I get out here...Argh!”[/color] Rach’s hand smacked into the metal plated interior causing more hurt when it impacted. Hissing in frustration, she cradled her injury then examined her surroundings. 

Pure metal or so it appeared to, her mind trying to recall the information during her captor’s little speech. Her silence didn't last long. There only a low rumble of warning before her cage suddenly lift and swayed causing her to crash into the floor, her figure curled into a defensive ball. She slide to the nearest, her hands pressed down to magnetically stick to any purchase she could find. 

Without warning, sound pulsed through her little prison. Her hands lifted and covered her ears, eyes squeezed tightly and trying to block out the source of her torture. 

She screamed. 

[center]***[/center]

Tristan edged in the perimeter, his hand reached out to gently skim the outer fencing. The steel glowed red hot then melted into liquid, crumbling enough to leave a gap for a makeshift door. He smiled then stepped right through. Several Gene Co, unregistered, employees quickly followed in his way while he dealt with the overgrowth that was menacing the Ironworks perimeter. He blinked at the local ‘defense’ system set up the opposition. Tristan was surprised at the oddity and lacking data, unsure where or who set them up. There was one thing he did know: these didn’t originate from the virus. Sighing when the plants’ attention turned upon him, the man turned up the heat. His arms raised at his sides while flames erupted along their length. They sprouted from nearest his hands and wrists, gliding down to his shoulders until both of his limbs were engulfed. Crackling and hissing in his ears, his expression became rather delightfully wicked at the impending chaos he was about to create. “Time to clear out the weeds, chaps.” 

Tristan tossed out his arm and tossed a horizontal wave of fire in one direction. The watermelons had been about to pellet him with seeds when fire caught upon their leaves, their lush green become curled and blackened by the heat in moments. Focusing his attention on the next row, he fired another shot of pure liquid like fire upon the next turret creating another blackened husk. His arms pushed flame wave after flame way, clearing the way for his fellow allies to make their way toward the building. A small particle beam impacted on his shoulder causing the man to jerk back. His shaded eyes glared at the source’s direction while his flesh sizzled then regenerated back into a solid mass, the material underneath wasn’t bone and muscle but pure molten rock. When his blood hit the ground, it hissed then burned through a few inches into the ground. 

Three of Icarus’ LEGION drones were hovering there. Their guns aimed and charging for another round, their laser lights set while the man merely stood there unafraid. 

“Nice hit. Now it’s my turn...” Tristan commented. 

His hand came up and shot a viscous liquid upon the nearest LEGION drone, the metal man’s shell unable to withstand the intense heat. It started to crumple into molten metal and pool on the ground before drying into rock hard granite. He jerked out of the way of the second one’s shot as he then melted into his liquid form when the third followed the second’s lead, cleverly waiting until he had moved. Tristan snarled in frustration when the third beam clipped his head. For a few seconds he was blind when his figure broke down into his other form. It glided across the dirt and grass, leaving scorch marks and worse in his wake when he shifted behind the drone. The thing turned to fire and swing only to have Tristan’s hand rise up and catch it. Heat shimmered and wafted off his skin, the palm hard as rock, and absorbing the strength behind the drone’s strike easily. In a few moments the drone’s hand was melted off as he reached up and ripped the particle beam off its stand at the drone’s shoulder. It made a loud, metal screech when it gave to his superior strength. 

He then flipped it upward at the other drone, readying its laser, catching it on the shoulder. The particle beam fired just moments before forcing him to shove his current victim in front him for a shield. The metal was enough to deflect the damage as he tossed the now charred remains aside. Straightening his coat, he started to make his way toward the building with the rest of the Gene Co men.