[center]Aquaman looked around the murky waters he had claimed as his own, fighting against a rising feeling of anger and despair. There was much here to deal with, and the battle on the surface still waged on. He needed to be faster. Stronger. Better. Pulling a comm shell from his belt, Aquaman flipped it open and began to speak, confident that the transmission would connect him to his palace. [color=LightSeaGreen]”This is King Orin. I am in the Persian Gulf. Send our fastest envoy with Neptune. I have need of its power.”[/color] He said, scarcely waiting for confirmation before shutting off the communication device. Though his envoys were still not as fast as himself, Aquaman was confident they would arrive soon enough, and he would be able to help more...

Orin cut through the undersea current like a hot knife through butter. Using the his innate control of the seas, amplified by the trident he carried, it was a simple matter to manipulate the chunks of wreckage as they sank to the bottom of the gulf, minimizing their impact and twisting their orientation so they would not crush the precious sailors they imprisoned. Looking around the briny depths, Aquaman could see the shapes of incoming sea creatures, animals who had elected to answer his call. The undersea king breathed a sigh of relief as he sent out a mental push to rescue any drowning sailors and begin bringing them to shore.

Aquaman closed in on the nearest of the broken pieces of what were once ships, swinging a powerful fist at the thick metal hull. Like punching through a piece of wet tissue paper, Orin breached the hull and dove inside, pulling a shell-like device from his belt. Atlantis was the oldest civilization on earth, and even though their fall into the sea had set them back a bit, they had recovered and even found ways to thrive in their new environment. Orin activated the handheld tracking device and watched as a holographic screen lit up, sending out a pulse of energy before settling into a barebones map of the ship. As the map settled into place, a few red dots lit up; warm bodies. People that needed saving. Holding the map in front of him, Orin took off, speeding through the water faster than any living thing had a right to. This wasn’t the only wreck in the gulf. These weren’t the only trapped sailors. He had to be fast...

[hr]

The normally sandswept streets of Tabuk had been blasted clean by the rapidly advancing armored vehicles of the Arab Federation. Cleared not by treads, but by whatever unseen force suspended them above the ground and gifted them with their incredible mobility. Able to strafe and change direction on a dime, they had quickly proven their dominance over the comparatively slow and unmaneuverable NATO tanks and IFVs.

Strafing in a steady zig-zagging pattern as it weaved around the oncoming armor-piercing sabots fired from the nearby Challenger 2s of NATO, the Federation [url=https://i.imgur.com/jifdX78.jpg]tank[/url] trained its own main gun upon the western armor. Burning with an almost blinding light, a beam erupted from the barrel and instantly reduced the target into a ball of flame. Immediately focusing on another target, this action was swiftly repeated.

Federation IFVs had likewise swarmed into the city, unleashing their devastating, plasma-based weaponry against the forces of NATO. Their APCs had deployed infantry likewise armed with “rifles” that far exceeded what was available to their opponents.

It was, in truth, difficult to even call it a fight as they carved a swathe of destruction through the city, brushing aside the opposing army as if they weren’t even there.

[color=forestgreen]”You know what’s unfair?”[/color] Celerity said, his Bluetooth device hooked up to his ear, as usual. He zipped through the battlefield, in a circle, observing the Federation’s new toys for a brief moment. While he’s mostly dealt with their infantry earlier, he’s never gotten around to dealing with their armored vehicles, mainly because phasing through things makes him a bit sick. Seeing their futuristic toys in play, however, changes the game completely.

[color=forestgreen]”We’ve got people who can shoot lasers out of their hands and jump out of planes. And what can I do? Run [i]really[/i] fast.”[/color] Celerity complained, before springing to action. Instead of dealing with their new tech, Celerity decided to start playing damage control. He ran through the city, pushing soldiers out of the way from enemy fire as he made his rounds while at the same time observing just how the enemy’s weaponry worked. How fast they fired, what made them work the way they did, just how much of an edge these weapons had over the others. Normally, Celerity would just be fighting them head-on, whether they were armed with assault rifles or loaded with explosives, but to fight an enemy with alien-looking tech? Celerity needed to know exactly what he was dealing with, and if it was even fast enough to catch him.

The tanks and other vehicles were much more nimble than their NATO counterparts indeed, but still nothing compared to the speeds at which Celerity could move. In fact, as he darted about removing soldiers from the danger zone, they hadn’t even noticed him due to his speed yet. They seemed mainly focused on destroying the military forces that desperately continued to oppose them, as well as attacking the hero known as “Tank”, a far more obvious and glaring target than the nimble speedster who had yet to engage them.

The soldiers on the ground, however, had taken notice of Celerity and had taken their fair share of potshots at him with their beam rifles. Although the beams themselves were plenty fast - far quicker than any bullet - the men behind them were not, and didn’t seem truly capable of lining up a clear shot on the Brown Blur or the people he was evacuating.

For the most part, Celerity was being ignored for the moment. The Federation forces had neither the time nor luxury to focus on targets that were not actively engaging them.

Girard gritted his teeth as another beam from one of the hovering vehicles parted around his arm as he advanced attempting to close the gap between himself and the armor ahead. He was finding the weapons were hurting some and that they were moving fast enough to keep him on his toes, not something he was used to so far which was worrisome. With a quick leap he managed to land close enough to get a hold on one of his quick moving adversaries delivering a solid punch to where he guessed a thruster might be attempting to disable its movement. The big guy also managed to get a hold of the gun as the turret tried to face towards him snapping it like a twig in his grip. He picked up the solid remaining piece like a club dashing forward at the next closest enemy placing a downward strike onto the gun mantle of it crushing the metal down enough to where he hoped firing would be impossible, would probably backfire if they tried with any other gun he knew of so it was guesswork.

Tank threw away the now severely bent barrel looking for another target among the absolute mess of soldiers and armor moving about. He was doing his damndest to make a big target of himself wanting to draw in as many enemies as possible so the others could capitalize on the rest of the more lightly armored forces. Taking hits was what he did best so putting that skill to use seemed appropriate with all of the firepower being slung around which was a big problem. The big man caught a volley of laser fire from a nearby group of infantry to which he retaliated by jumping closer and slamming the ground to disrupt them making them easier targets for a few low power hits as they were getting back up. His attempts to cause less collateral damage were probably limiting his overall effectiveness but if he made too big a mess of the surrounding area there wouldn’t be anything left for civilians to return to, it was already bad enough without his input. He knew the speedster was zipping around evacuating anyone who could be so it was another reason to hold back for the moment because the last thing he needed to do was get in the way of anyone but the Federation forces which he had done well at so far.

[color=A9A9A9]”How are the rest of you holding up? Got the main tank column here somewhat tied up at the moment but think I saw some light troops get by.”[/color] Girard said through the earpiece curious as to how the others were faring and giving them an update from his position on the front. [color=A9A9A9]“Not of fan of the guns on these guys, they are kind of unpleasant.”[/color]

[hr]

“Yeah yeah! Just some, uh, minor technical difficulties! The job will get done, just a little slower.” The more Emerald Knight chased down those fighters, the more he began to realize that he was indeed needing to put more effort into flying just to be able to keep up with them. Future tech or not, he was able to cross the universe at unbelievable speeds. This shouldn’t be happening. 

He could still fly and shoot. He could still use the ring as intended, but he was moving a little slower, and his constructs weren’t as strong as they normally were. This made it rather difficult to corral the jets together and force them down. 

“But, I would appreciate help from just about anyone right now.” He didn’t want to make it sound like he wasn’t capable of taking them out on his own, only that it would be easier to do it with more people. Surely he wasn’t the only one dealing with these advanced vehicles and weapons. He’d need to talk to someone about them once this was all over.

A screeching whistle screamed through the air, seemingly echoed by counterparts. It took only a second after the sound started for explosions to rock against the hulls of the jets, eight taking direct hits, one jerking enough to only graze, and the tenth unscathed.

[color=IndianRed]”That should slow them down,”[/color] Grim muttered, her mask deepening the words as they broadcast to the others. The missile launcher was already reloading, sadly only able to hold nine at a time. Rather than do a concentrated volley and remove one threat, the Gotham hero had opted to lock on to nine of the ten aircraft, currently focused on Cabbage Patch Kid. A single missile to each jet wouldn’t be enough to remove them from the fight, but damage them? Definitely.

The autocannons spun beneath the Grim Jet as the speeding black aircraft joined Emerald Knight, blazing to life with a flurry of armor-piercing bullets. They tore through the closest jet’s left wing, nearly cleaving it in two. When the magitech jet dipped the Grim Jet shot down, keeping speed with the spinning wreck. It was only when the pilot ejected did the black jet once more jerk up, just in time to twist out of the way of a barrage of lasers. Looks like her presence was adequately announced to the skies.

An alarm blared to life in the cabin of the jet, Grim’s eyes flicking down to it. She cursed.

[color=IndianRed]”Ground them, Moss Patch. Two more will be on us soon.”[/color]

With an affirmative nod that Grim couldn’t see, Emerald Knight closed in on many of the damaged jets and forced them down by creating large clamp structures that dug into the hull so they couldn’t escape. They should have known by now that trying to get out of his grasp was impossible, but that didn’t stop them from fighting him on the way down. He had to make it fast, though. Apparently two more were en route. 

He added a little more damage to each of the crafts as he brought them down to the surface, making sure they wouldn’t be able to fly again before he joined Grim up in the air to bring the rest down. 

Like Grim had predicted, two more entered the fray. It was rather fortunate that their appearances were predicted, because it made things leagues easier for Emerald Knight to get started on wearing them down with laser fire.

Suddenly, an idea came to mind that would put an end to this little dogfight much sooner. He beat himself over the head for not thinking of it sooner. 

Emerald Knight matched the speeds of the jets with a little more push, and used his ring to create constructs to break a hole in the windshield of the cockpit. A tiny hole, but one just large enough for him to worm a construct through so he could break the console they were piloting with, and activate their parachutes. He didn’t even need to break the planes down if he could just force the pilots to leave!

Slowly but surely the magitech jets were dwindling in number between the two flying heroes, the ones already damaged being picked off. Their speed and lasers were dangerous, but what was quickly becoming obvious was that these weren’t trained pilots. At the very least, not trained for the power of magitech.

Really, that fact was currently saving Grim’s ass. For all the advanced tech packed into the Grim Jet, the magitech seemed to have the edge in terms of specifications. Grim, however, had a far finer control over her machine than the Arab Federation pilots had over theirs. As two more untouched magitech jets joined the fray it’s what was currently keeping her ahead of the lasers on her tail.

A quick aileron roll avoided another barrage of the deadly lasers, the black jet turning sharply to double back to the injured craft. Of course even the precise turning capabilities of Grim’s jet wasn’t enough to shake her pursuer, as it too turned on a dime. A barrel roll this time, jerking the nose of the Grim Jet up - and on the descent another swath of those armor piercing bullets taking out one of the already injured craft, immediately after another volley of missiles bringing down another.

With that the damaged aircraft were out of the way, leaving only the three ones still in perfect condition. One was still doggedly pursuing Grim, another focused on Emerald Knight. Seeing an opportunity Grim shot off towards the one focused on Emerald Knight. Coming up behind it Grim’s gaze flicked between directly in front of her and the monitor showing a rear view. As soon as the magitech weapons on the aircraft behind her lit up Grim once more performed a sharp aileron roll, the lasers passing by and slamming into the jet in front of her as she passed by, cleaving it in two.

[color=IndianRed]”Idiot,”[/color] The Gotham hero muttered in contempt, dipping to watch and make sure the pilot ejected safely. Yep, there he went. It was a [i]really[/i] good thing these were inexperienced pilots, a single strike of those lasers would do some serious damage to her hull.

Where was the jet that was after her?

Grim spun around, quickly spotting the jet that had previously been on her like a dog on a bone. It was currently focused on the pilot descending to the sands below. Zoey’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, only for those steel-blue eyes to widen in alarm as the lasers on it lit up once more.

[color=IndianRed]”Fucker!”[/color] Jerking her controls forward the Grim Jet took off at full speed just as the lasers of the enemy jet ripped through the parachute on the back of the pilot with a precise strike, sending him plummeting to the ground. Grim had no idea if it was anger or desperation that fueled the move; anger at his fellow pilot for getting in the way, or desperation with only two of them left. Either way, with the magitech jet still focused on the pilot Grim knew his gambit was going to work.

Now knowing where the Grim Jet was doing to be the lasers once more lit up, blasting at high speeds towards the pilot. The black jet was over him with less than a second to spare, the laser tearing into the reinforced metal of the hull. Inside the cockpit Grim was bathed in red as alarms started going off, the nose of the aircraft turning to the ground as she, too, plummeted. Smoke billowed from the pierced icon of the grim along the side of her plane, but she wasn’t going down that easily. Twisting the craft her left wing caught the falling pilot, him not needing a second gesture as he quickly clung to the black metal. It was going to be painful for the both of them, but better than slamming unprotected into the sands.

Pulling back on the controls and activating the hover mode the Grim Jet’s descent slowed, preventing it from crashing into the ground beneath them. Becoming parallel to the ground the right wing bumped against the sand beneath it, causing the craft to shudder as the right side bounced up once more. A normal jet would’ve been torn apart.

With the Grim Jet now hovering a foot off the ground, tilted slightly so the right wing rested in the sand Grim cursed into her voice modulator once more, rushing to grab a large toolbox stored in the back. Flipping the cockpit hatch open she climbed out. The pilot on her left wing was shaking and disorientated, when he glanced up to her Grim just looked down at him with that emotionless mask. Her glove sparked. He didn’t need telling twice and slid off the wing, quickly scrambling back. With him gone Grim turned to try and repair what she could of the burning metal and wire.

[color=IndianRed]”I’m banged up but alive. Hope you can get the last two, Magenta Mage.”[/color]

“Alright… you.” He didn’t have any quippy nicknames for Grim at the current moment, so his response was already nowhere as cool as it could be. 

Two left. Emerald Knight didn’t need any cool one liners to beat up some untrained pilots. If Grim was anything to go by, the vigilante was superior when it came to flying and even dogfighting, even if these planes did have the better tech. No matter. 

Emerald Knight was barely scratched by the jets. He was rather angry with himself for not having been able to finish off these planes faster, but that was more because of his own skill rather than them. He wasn’t afraid. He had blown himself up for christ’s sake!

He flew around in a green blur, now creating a construct around him to cut through the final two planes with his own body. It was rather fun darting around and cutting them up, but like the others, his focus on forcing them down safely took priority.

He forced himself through the wings of one of the planes, but before it could start spiraling out of control, Emerald Knight locked the plane in a construct and led it down to the ground. As soon as he knew the plane wouldn’t explode, or the pilot wouldn’t die, he set off to do the same thing to the other plane. 

The second plane led him through a small chase, but it was only a matter of time before he sped up to the plane and took it out in the same way. He was almost worried that his construct wouldn’t hold all the way down, but he was lucky to see that he was able to keep the plane from becoming a big fiery ball.

With the planes gone, Emerald Knight smiled to himself in satisfaction. They had done a good job today. Maybe the next time something like this happens, they’ll all be better, and they can keep even more lives from passing away.

[hr]

Despite their advanced technology, the various armored vehicles of the Arab Federation were finding that they simply stood no chance in a direct confrontation with the giant - practically naked - man who had chosen to make his stand against them. Thus, their commander had ordered for them to try and keep their distance as he quickly formulated a strategy.

Thus far, this towering individual had proven to be their only real opposition on the ground. The NATO forces had fallen like a house of cards before their new weapons. If they took him out, then surely the city would follow!

“Liquify the ground beneath his feet!” Lt. General Yasin barked into his command console, displaying the battlefield in a complex 3D hologram that looked straight out of a science fiction film. “It would appear he cannot fly, so let us make him an easier target!”

Following his instructions, several of the tanks and IFVs turned their beams onto the streets below. With concentrated fire at the man’s feet, the ground more or less instantly began to liquify. Like quicksand, it made getting a solid footing to jump difficult, so long as it wasn’t allowed to harden.

“Now, every other vehicle open fire on him before he can get loose! I repeat, all remaining weapons focus fire!” Yasin commanded, watching every vehicle that wasn’t focused on keeping the street melted turn their beams on the giant man directly.

Scorching the ozone before them, the beams began to hit the superhuman from every side as tanks, IFVs and infantry quickly moved to surround him, his entire form quickly becoming obscured in the mass glow of the concentrated plasma.

Tank had expected the forces to keep away from him but it was just to attempt an effective self-defense against him though it had proven less than useful as he could close a gap fairly quickly. This time it seemed almost like they were lining up for a big barrage which he expected would hurt a fair bit as well as slow him down a lot by sheer volume alone. What he hadn’t been expecting was the ground caving out from underneath him which left him hard pressed to find any good footing while him trying to trudge through the now liquid asphalt was difficult. That was before the main volley aimed directly at him hit home stopping him dead in his tracks as shots from all directions started connecting faster than he could now react. If the big guy could speak it would be hard to accurately describe the pain he was in as the beams poured on not to mention the fact he couldn’t see or hear anything from under the assault so it heavily disoriented him on the shifting ground.

Girard fell down to a knee whole body tensing up severely as the onslaught kept on coming almost forcing him further onto the ground. His whole mind and body were screaming at him to fight back harder against his attackers. It wasn’t as much a matter of disabling them as making it stop, he needed it to stop and was growing more determined to end it. The big man started struggling back up feeling an intense anger boiling up pushing him on enough to fight getting him just about to standing as he drew his arms back through the lightshow. There was no way he was giving up, that meant a lot more people than just him were going to pay for it and forbid he was seriously injured or worse people he knew would be hit by it. He had to end this right the hell now and prevent all of that suffering so he let the strength flow into his arms before bringing them together below him in a massive thunder clap intent to send them flying away from him. There was no proper gauge on how much he was actually putting into it that he could have thought of but one thing he knew is that they were not going to enjoy it anymore than he was being focus fired.

The immense thunderclap brought a sudden end to the concentration of plasma that had been brought against Tank, a powerful blast of heated wind hammering the battle-scared out structures on either side of the street, toppling many of them as tanks and IFVs alike struggled to remain stable, the crews still somewhat unfamiliar with the strange technology that kept them suspended off the ground.
 
Most of NATO had been routed within moments of meeting Asad's magitech, flaming wrecks littering the roadways just to the north of the city and on the path of retreat back into Tabuk. Few remained intact, their crews fighting from street to street against Federation soldiers. At least with the assistance of Celerity pulling most out of the way of kill-shots, and Tank keeping the attentions of the main force, the wounded could safely retreat. It was there in the base camps south of the city that the remaining commanders came together and assessed the situation at hand.

"Asad has almost undone all of our efforts, with just the introduction of these damned tanks and space weapons." The French commander cursed, though it was notable that he had lost most of his force on the first attack.

"Lasers and magic, what a time to be alive. At least we've got these 'heroes' out there keeping the body count down."

Their eastern fleet sat at the bottom of the Persian Gulf, much of their air superiority had evaporated with the loss of air bases to operate from, and the western fleet had retreated back to the Mediterranean. Reinforcements would be lacking, and very hesitant until this threat had been contained and countered, something which seemed quite unlikely from the standpoint of the very mortal elements of this intervention. Even Raymond was having a difficult time marshalling his forces and holding his ground against the magitech pit against them. Several black Challenger 2s sat propped against buildings where they had made a stand, smoking holes revealing the interiors and the cooked ammunition inside. Charred uniforms were stark reminders of the crews that once operated them, and precious few wounded managed their way back to the medical tents.

Raymond himself ripped his way from the crushed interior of his command tank, arcane energy rolling off his form in waves as he drank deep from the leylines. He let it fuel his rage, striking back with lances of searing magic fire against Federation troops, immolating them and their damned magitech. Cries of anguish mixed the air, and he was not too focused on his enemy's suffering to notice that some of those were his own. Shifting directly from a war-stance, he spoke the command words to a spell of shielding, barriers forming around his wounded and deflecting just barely the plasma that was meant to end their lives. Yet as soon as he had gone on the defensive, it was clear that was where he was going to remain. Some of the other Federation soldiers not pinning down Tank had directed their attention to the new threat, as displays of magic tend to do.

Thankfully, the thunderclap intended to end their barrage against Tank had also staggered the Federation soldiers engaged with Raymond, blasting infantry several meters through the air and sending tanks and IFVs sliding into nearby structures. It was a critical pause in the battle, but one that was ripe for exploitation by a savvy commander. 

The savvy commander stood ready, arcane lightning rippling from his fingertips as he partially revelled in the first chance in millennia to truly utilize his powers, and felt immense anger at those who followed him into battle being so casually slaughtered by Federation troopers. All it took was that one pause, and well-drilled discipline took over in the black-clad men and women of LIS, guns up and firing as they moved forward to engage. It didn't matter that their guns were but toys compared to the lasers and plasma that spat back at them. Nor did it matter that they couldn't hurt the tanks and IFVs that seemed proof against such mundane arms. They had resolve and courage to endure despite everything, and that began to eat away at the confidence Asad's troops held in what was thought to be an easy victory. A concentrated volley of gunfire ripped through a squad of the Federation soldiers, putting them down with no less than six shots on center-mass to each of them, the mercenaries reloading behind cover even as the line behind them moved up.

Raymond advanced along the center, partly counting on the chaos of battle to conceal his true powers from all but the very distracted Lady Arcana, and the rest not caring one bit as long as he saw his people through to victory. He strode through plasma fire, deflecting some with well timed barriers, and others thrown off through the sheer determination of his advance. The look in his eyes was that of war-given-form, a terrible avatar of destruction brought to the mortal realms to do his work. It was enough to break the lesser-willed, those pitiful conscripts swept along in Asad's desire to conquer. Others took more convincing. Each step brought his team closer to the main armored column, and the greatest threat to their defence of the city. Each one reunited pinned down squadmates with their teams, their guns joining the steadily advancing line that stretched from street to street, taking full advantage of even the slightest lull in momentum from the Federation troopers.

Ahead he saw another group of his people pinned by a fusillade of plasma, searing beams piercing holes through their rapidly dwindling cover. They were in pretty rough shape, a few laying still on the pavement, and others clearly wounded but giving back the best they could. One in particular caught his eye in a flash of plasmic fire. Her helmet was glanced by the blow, ripping it off her head and vaporizing her arm below the shoulder, but still she raised her pistol and held it steady against the Federation trooper who advanced to deliver the finishing blow. He recognized her stern features at once, and a fury was stoked within like none his enemy had yet seen.

In the space between himself and the pair across the street everything went silent, the air deadly still as his lips parted to draw in a light breathe and speak the first syllable of a language he had reserved for only his most hated foes. Immediately those around him recognized the shift in air pressure, the way it felt like the breath was drawn from their lungs and their ears popped. The dozen men behind him turned and ducked, firmly placing their hands against their ears in every measure possible to block out the sound they knew was coming next. Across the way time seemed to slow, the woman glancing to the side and recognizing Raymond, but moreso what was about to befall the Federation soldiers. She placed her hand against an ear and braced the other firmly against the remains of her shoulder, and watched the glow building from within the plasma rifle, a searing inferno preparing to discharge directly into her.

It never happened. Raymond leaned slightly forward, a word leaving his mouth soundlessly in a language that defied all mortal tongues. At first nothing changed, there was just a whisper in the wind, a strangeness that shouldn't be possible in the middle of a warzone. Explosions detonated just meters away, but not even the heat could be felt within that space occupied only by Raymond and the object of his hate. Then the word was spoken. It ripped from his throat in a violent cacophony of a thousand melded voices all speaking at once, yet in different languages and not one at all. Blood flecked his lips as it left his mouth, screaming across the short distance to the man who didn't even realize his fate was written.

[color=0072bc][i]"Die."[/i][/color]

At once the man's body shuddered, the sound of every bone in his body breaking at once clear over the grunt of confusion and agony. It was just the raw impact of the True Word that knocked him to the ground, the bow-wave hitting the other six Federation soldiers who were part way through opening fire on the LIS mercenaries. Though they were not the target, they heard the word spoken and immediately felt the effects. Two collapsed as they became violently ill, limbs paralyzed as their central-nervous system shut itself down. Another simply fell over, eyes wide in shock as he tried to breathe but his lungs refused to listen. One of the men caught fire, his clothing igniting in arcane fires that only fed on his attempts to put them out.

His target fared far worse, his own body becoming his enemy as he spasmed on the ground as best his struggling muscles could. It was only momentary, but the word was obeyed to the letter. One by one his organs shut down, the man confused as he couldn't understand what had happened until finally his struggle was over. All in the span of just a few seconds, the damage wrought was terrible and the few Federation soldiers who were out of earshot and witnessed what he had done broke and ran.

Raymond closed the couple meters, unconcerned with the retreating enemy for once, and offered his hand to the fallen woman. She accepted gratefully and glanced down at the man who had just a moment ago had her dead to rights. "Surprised you still know the words, father." The rank pin marked her out as one of the captains of the unit, and while the others were clearing the street the two could speak privately. Despite seeming to be of parity in age, she spoke with soft reverence towards the man, bowing her head slightly to him.

[color=0072bc]"I practice every now and then, just to make sure I still can."[/color] He was not left unharmed after the True Word, his lips split and bleeding from the force of the command, and his throat quite sore. Though the words could not kill him, and wouldn't hold the same effect, they still left their marks. [color=0072bc]"Reverie, I'll need you to pull together the wounded on the street just south of this position. Try and get yourself to the medics as well."[/color]

"Understood." That was all the reply she gave, a few other soldiers coming closer to lend fire-support to a group up the road. A moment later and she was gone, disappearing into the haze of battle.

[hr]

8:20 PM
Riyadh

[color=orchid]“Gekh!”[/color] Lady Arcana grunted as she was sent slamming into the lower floor of the [url=https://static1.squarespace.com/static/5667ec30a2bab88225a5f596/t/57fe11ea8419c2d82f7630a2/1476268528068/]Faisaliah Tower[/url], hotel patrons who hadn’t been able to evacuate the capital screaming at the sight of the woman who had just smashed her way through the eastern wall and then face-dived into the marble flooring.

Pushing herself up again, she watched Asad hurl himself through the freshly made hole on a direct collision course with her. Reaching out to catch his oncoming fist, she dug her heels into the floor, which buckled beneath their mutual strength.
“You see, woman?” Asad’s voice hummed from within the warsuit. “My Lord has given me the power to personally dispose of you! Me, the Lion of Babylon!”

Intercepting his second fist, she held him firmly in place with their impromptu grapple. She had figured out exactly how strong his warsuit of his was by this point. Twisting his far larger arms down to the side as whatever metal this thing was made out of screeched in protest, she now felt confident she could overpower this thing!

And then his eyes began to glow.

[color=orchid]“Oh right,”[/color] She muttered, the azure light engulfing her. Blasting her back away from him, she would’ve surely smashed through the opposite wall if he hadn’t quickly seized her by the ankle and instead hurled her up through several of the floors above them.

Grasping her by the throat as he followed, they continued to smash their way up through the great tower. Blows were exchanged, with a flash of sparks from the warsuit indicating that she was coming out the better between them. In one of the dining areas of the upper floor, an elderly couple continued to happily eat their dinner, apparently so hard of hearing that they didn’t see them smash through the floor, nor did they see Asad slam her head through the stove in the kitchen.

Forcefully grasping the hand around her throat, she threw him up through yet another series of floors until they were once again in the open air. Issuing a moderately forceful kick to his chest, she turned and seized the golden ball that sat near the top of the building. Her fingers biting into the sphere, she wrenched it free and hurled it after the dictator, smirking slightly as it slammed into him and carried him the rest of the way out of the city.

Chasing after him without another thought, she slammed into Asad just as he was ripping his way through the gleaming orb. Forcing him further out to the desert, she began to rain a storm of blows down upon the warsuit, her fists becoming a blur. Sparks began to fly, an uppercut diverting a blast of his eye beams away from her and into the night sky above.

Slamming her knuckles into the “face” of his armor with enough force to crack the lense its left eye, it was sent meteoring down to the sands below; a great pillar of desert erupting on impact. Showing no hesitation this time and bursting through the storm of sand, she landed firmly on the waist of the towering armor as it lay prone on its back.

Pounding away at the head of the warsuit until the eyes began to flicker out, she knifed her hand and jabbed it into the chest. It indented, but it took several more tries before she was finally through. Pursing her lips, she forcefully ripped the torso open to reveal Asad.

[color=orchid]“Heeeeere’s Johnny!”[/color] She smiled down at him, though her mask obscured it.

Asad coughed as the systems of his warsuit sparked and began to catch fire, smoke belching forth. Alarms weakly blared, but they too were on the verge of death. “D-damn you, you filthy imperialist whore!”

[color=orchid]“That’s like the seventh time you’ve called me that,”[/color] she noted. [color=orchid]“You’re like a bad Family Guy caricature.”[/color]

Reaching down to lift him from the warsuit which he had strapped himself into, the dictator gritted his teeth. “This...this wasn’t supposed to be how it ended. He said it could beat you, that...that…”

Hesitating for a moment, Lady Arcana drew her hand back. [color=orchid]“‘He?’ Wait, you mean the guy who gave you all this magic stuff, right?”[/color]

“He...he never cared which side won,” Asad muttered in apparent realization, eyes drifting to the side. “He used me...used all of us to simply create further conflict! He was our God and...he betrayed us...”

Frowning, Arcana wasn’t sure what she could say in that moment. Maybe saying nothing was the best solution, since he seemed to be providing her with an interesting bit of information.  Hopefully, he would keep providing it when she brought him to...where the hell international criminals went. She’d need to google that.

When she once more grasped for the front of his uniform, Asad’s hand tried to desperately fight her grip as he practically snarled at her. “NO! Even...even if I was thrown away like trash by my Lord, I shall not allow you to parade me around like some trophy! I am Arabia’s greatest son, Basil Al-Asad!!”

A sharp whine filled her ears, her eyes immediately noting that his opposite hand had hit a switch inside the warsuit.

Asad narrowed his gaze upon the Wizardess, a manic grin slowly spreading across his face. ”Come with me to hell, Lady Arcana!”

[hr]

King Orin scanned the bottom of the sea one final time before his grip tightened on his new trident and he felt a surge of power. There were still bodies down there. Broken and mangled. Some had died in the initial blast, others ripped apart or crushed by the wreckage of their own ships. But everyone who had survived was being rescued. His friends in the sea were making sure of that. Now, it was time to find those responsible…

Rocketing back to the surface, Aquaman channeled his power through the Trident of Neptune as he neared the surface of the waters. A huge column of ocean water extended out of the gulf  and pointed itself in the direction of the city where all the fighting was taking place. Aquaman swam through his water-tunnel with near-incomprehensible speed, shooting out of the end and sailing through the air. The Trident allowed him to control the currents of the wind as well, speeding his forward momentum and slowing his descent. Though not flight in any sense, this ‘glide’ would allow him to cover a lot of ground before needing to sprint into the city itself.

A few scant moments later, Orin had arrived among the burning husks of military operations and shells of buildings. The destruction was immense, though it looked as though his new allies had been doing their jobs. Advanced magitech vehicles and weapons lay broken and unused, and the destruction of the city was nothing compared to what it could have been. The sounds of battle still roared in the distance though, and Orin set off through the streets looking for their source.

King Orin turned a corner, having heard sounds of fighting dull and come to a stop as he arrived. With luck, it was allies. If not… He would deal with it. What he saw when he turned the corner though, surprised him. Mercenaries, from the look of them; some kind of fighting force. A one-armed woman leading her troops away and a man with the bearing of a commander left behind. Bodies on the ground, some immolated, some bleeding from the eyes and ears, one who appeared to have been crushed completely from the inside out. A faint aura hung in the air, only perceptible to Orin because of his familiarity with the twin tridents he used to channel his magic. Orin turned his attention back to the man, noting that he did indeed have his own fighting force with him. Orin stepped forward, trident slung over one shoulder as he approached what he hoped was a new ally.

[color=LightSeaGreen]”Hail, commander!”[/color] Aquaman called out, holding his free hand up in greeting. The soldiers with him turned and trained their weapons on him, and so Aquaman halted, flashing the group a disarming smile. [color=LightSeaGreen]”I come to offer aid. I am King Orin of Atlantis, and I fight with Lady Arcana and the other heroes. Much of the work seems to have been done, and in no small part thanks to yourselves. I wish to help. Where do we go from here?”[/color]

Turning even as his men trained their guns on the approaching Atlantean, he very nearly loosed a spell on him. What restrained him was both the presence of mind to recognize a friendly, and that it seemed he had arrived to continue liberating the city. Raymond discharged the building magic within his fingertips, the barely visible sparks dissipating as he nodded slowly to the man and motioned for his troops to continue sweep and clear efforts.

[color=0072bc]"Raymond von Lüneburg, NATO Ground Forces and head of Lundgrau Intelligence Services."[/color] The trident looked quite familiar, bearing hints of arcane force around it. It took little more than Orin's title for him to determine what it was, the precious few manuscripts that survived the fall of Atlantis depicting the artifact often prominently.

[color=0072bc]"I've got people pinned down across the northern end of the city, and I am fairly certain the main armored column up ahead is responsible for tying up another powered individual. Anything that can remove that armor would be appreciated, though assisting the wounded in getting out of the combat zone also helps."[/color] Raymond turns as a shift in the battle catches his attention, the slight silence preceding a devastating change.

[hr]

The battle - already winding down - was finally put to rest as the night was cast aside by a blinding flash of light, soon to be followed by an almost deafening roar in the distance as a powerful blast of concussive force slammed into Tabuk, almost strong enough to topple the already battered structures on the outskirts of the city. The very ground rumbled beneath their feet as man’s greatest weapon displayed its terrifying power.

As the light slowly faded, the unmistakable appearance of a massive mushroom cloud rising over the far horizon could be seen, its might still being felt in spite of the great distance between them and the monstrous explosion.

When the ground at last settled and the winds calmed, soldiers and civilians alike ceased to focus on the battlefield and instead stared at the great pillar of destruction - an oddly misshapen one, compared to the recordings many had seen of nuclear detonations. From within the Grim Jet, one of the lights on the console had gone dim, signalling that communications had been lost with one of the earpieces it was connected with.

The alarm echoed on the computer against Grim’s arm, the hero tearing her gaze away from the plume of destruction in the distance to check the screen. Immediately a feeling of dread built in her chest, and she grabbed the box of tools to climb back into the cockpit of the Grim Jet. Dropping them carelessly by the pilot’s side, the red light of various alerts still washing over the interior, Grim immediately focused on the console. Earpiece one was down - the first she had given out today.

[color=IndianRed]”Arcana? Arcana are you there?”[/color] It was futile, she knew, to try and get a response, but part of Grim couldn’t help but hope it was just her damaged jet making a mistake. Her voice broadcast to the others with their own earpieces, soon making it obvious that something was wrong. [color=IndianRed]”Arcana! Fuck, Arcana?!”[/color] The side of the Grim Jet was still scarred, the lasers of the magitech having torn through the black metal like paper. In the time she had Grim had repaired what she could, but knew the patch job wouldn’t last long.

Nonetheless she didn’t hesitate to put it through its paces. The engines roared and the aircraft wobbled as it rose up. The Grim Jet listed to the right even in hover mode. Grim merely grit her teeth and tried to correct it as best she could before the engines burned and the aircraft took off towards the fading mushroom cloud. The controls in her hand jerked and fought against going straight the faster the jet went, and Grim could hear the metal groaning in protest along the right side. Didn’t matter.

Girard had slowly crawled his way out of the still cooling ground back onto solid pavement again thankful for his disruption having worked enough to give him a breather. It occurred to him that the sheet had probably been disintegrated off of him during that last attack or whatever was left of it at least, Zoey was going to be upset with that for sure. He turned over onto his side noticing the shockwave he put out had sent quite a few vehicles and soldiers plenty far neither of which seemed to be intent on fighting nearly so hard as they had been before. He was relieved that the fighting had ended for the most part since if it got drawn out casualties could’ve skyrocketed and quite honestly he needed a rest after the beating the battery gave him. Maybe just a minute would do...or ten, ten sounded really nice right about now.

That was until the huge blast erupted from far outside the city where he remembered the dog fighting had been happening, might have been further still. Really huge didn’t do the explosion justice because he could easily feel it from where he laid while the odd mushroom cloud rose above the horizon in clear view giving a truly disturbing vision as to what happened to the area. The big man felt inclined to get up but it turned out he was hardly in a position to do so, the excruciating pain took a lot out of him and hadn’t entirely faded yet leaving him stuck for the moment as his body refused to respond to him. For the moment he would leave it up to the others to check it out having full faith in the rest of them that things would be alright. He hoped.

Ground zero of the explosion drew near. The middle of the desert, sand kicked up from the explosion and obscuring the glass of the cockpit. Even with that it soon became obvious that there was [i]something[/i] in this stretch of barren land. A crater. No surprise, considering the force of the nuclear explosion that had rocked the area. There was something odd about it, however. Flying over the area as she was it was obvious there was a darkened area splashed across the scarred land, almost … humanoid in shape. A shadow scorched into the very earth itself. The Grim Jet immediately pitched to go to the center, a new alarm joining the fray battling for dominance from the spike of radiation.

There was something there, at least. The Grim Jet shuddered as it came to a stop mere feet from the black object in the center of the crater, and finally the engines used for hovering along the right side died and the wing once more fell back against the ground - along with half the aircraft. Grim’s curse rang along the communication lines but she merely threw the hatch open and climbed out, her wrist computer immediately going crazy as it tried to alert her to the danger.

Twisted metal was all that greeted Grim as she practically climbed into the husk of the war machine that she had left fighting Lady Arcana. Nothing but charred metal remains. Grim merely stared down at it for a moment before lifting her head and looking around, the lenses of her goggles swapping rapidly as she looked around. Nothing. Her heart plummeted.

[color=IndianRed]”...Arcana?”[/color]

The area around the crater had been completely glassed over by the explosion, the former desert now glistening under the sun. It had been far enough into the open wastes that the destruction was mostly confined to the sands and any unfortunate creatures that left within them. Fallout could potentially be an issue for any settlements within both Arabia and the Federation, but that was neither here nor there.

The important fact was that nothing remained within a forty mile radius.

Grim’s wrist computer continued to warn the heroine against the danger, even as the Gotham hero ignored it. Her suit provided enough protection for these precious moments, searching across the shining landscape. Her boots slid against the glass before she scrambled up to the nose of her jet once more. She had to keep searching.

The controls groaned as she urged the machine to move, the Grim Jet vibrating as the damaged aircraft tried to rise up. The left side lifted, but the right side merely scraped against the glass as it slid against the ground. Finally the machine shuddered and banged against the hard surface beneath it as it collapsed. 
Grim’s cursing was clear, angry as she climbed out once more. Her gloved hands ran against her hood, eyes darting around under her goggles.

Not again. Not another one. There had to be… Lady Arcana was practically invincible! Yet the twisted, fallout-scarred desert around her hit home just how much pure destructive power was dropped, probably directly on top of the woman. Why hadn’t Grim stayed?

[color=orchid]”Hey, isn’t there like a [i]ton[/i] of radiation here? Let’s go somewhere safe!”[/color] Lady Arcana gently reached her arm around Grim’s waist, lifting her up along with her Jet in the opposite hand. With her speed, it took only a brief moment to clear the point where any potential fallout could endanger Zoey.

It was only then that the superheroine sat her friend down alongside her battered plane. Her mask was gone, along with her leggings, both having been destroyed in the blast. That was fine, though...she’d frankly had enough of this place for the time being. [color=orchid]”Ugh, I was completely [i]covered[/i] in a bunch of melted metal from the armor I think, so I had to spin around [i]really[/i] hard to get it off.”[/color]

She was seriously glad that she hadn’t beaten Asad in a city, though. The very thought of just how many people would’ve died if that’d gone off just a little bit sooner sent chills up her spine.

Grim could only stare at the other heroine, vaguely noting that her elbow throbbed from where she had instinctively lashed out at an arm going around her. Lady Arcana was speaking, but to be honest Zoey wasn’t exactly listening. Instead she just drank in that her friend was there, [i]alive[/i], seemingly none the worse for wear…

A wave of relief washed over the Gotham hero. The tense pressure in her chest eased. Karen was [i]safe[/i]. Grim suddenly lurched forward, arms almost of their own accord going around the shorter girl’s neck to hug her. She pressed her forehead to the blonde’s, her mask bumping against Lady Arcana’s mouth and nose. She was safe, she was safe - not another life lost to this horrible, fucked up world, she was [i]safe[/i].

And she had worried the fuck out of her. Grim abruptly pulled back and slapped her.

[color=IndianRed]”If you ever - and I mean [i]ever[/i] worry me like that again I swear I’ll kill you myself,”[/color] Grim practically snarled, her voice modulator rumbling. Her palm stung from what was essentially hitting a brick wall, but it was the point of the matter. Against her words however Grim began to look over the other heroine, brushing her hood back as she checked and double checked that she wasn’t hurt at all, finally turning off broadcasting to the other heroes.

Lady Arcana’s eyes widened when she felt the mask pressing in against her lips, her body going stalk still as a bridge of red worked its way across her face. When Grim pulled back again, her mouth tried to open in order to speak but any idea of the sort was quickly vanquished by her sudden and piercing slap. While she couldn’t see her face, there was no doubt to be had that she had been worried about her. Had she thought she was dead?

Well, that’s understandable. She’d never been hit with anything that powerful before, and honestly even [i]she herself[/i] hadn’t know whether or not she would be able to survive it. She once read that the center of a nuclear explosion could reach temperatures comparable to the core of the Sun, and now she honestly believed it. She had felt the heat of the blast as it engulfed her at point blank range, instantly obliterating her earpiece along with the temporary additions she’d made to her uniform.

Worse, it had [i]hurt[/i], like being badly scalded...though it hadn’t lasted long. It was the first time she’d ever felt true pain in this form. She really didn’t care to repeat the experience, to say the least. At least thinking about it finally gave her something to say, though.

[color=orchid]”Zoey, I really hate nukes.”[/color] She exhaled, lowering her head. [color=orchid]”And I’m sorry for worrying you. I was just a little overwhelmed by…y’know, impossibly hot atomic fire.”[/color]

[color=IndianRed]”I’ll forgive you this time,”[/color] Grim muttered in return, finally releasing a harsh exhale. Her gloves fingers went up bringing the mask down to hang around her neck and the goggles up to rest against her forehead. She had been wearing the mask for hours now, and hadn’t slept for even longer. She was getting too old for this. [color=IndianRed]”I’m just glad you’re alright. I don’t know about you, but I’m about ready to go home after this bullshit. Let’s clean up the magitech and get going - think you can carry my jet? It’s kind of fucked.”[/color]

Lady Arcana eagerly nodded, wanting to put the thoughts of this place and that painful heat behind her. Of course, rounding up all the magitech would have to come first, just like Zoey said. That was the original reason for coming here after all. Making sure the Arab Federation no longer had it was important, but she didn’t really want NATO to get it either. At the end of the day, after all, nations and alliances just tended to look after their own selfish interests before anything else.

Thankfully, she had already worked out how she was going to retrieve it all. Having learned how to access the Rock of Eternity from Samantha back during the harpy incident, she could just quickly store all of it in there once she’d found it all. That was, after all, something the old Wizard was apparently fond of doing, judging by all the magical junk that was in there.

[color=orchid]”Okay, let’s hurry. I’ve...honestly had enough sand and heat for one lifetime.”[/color][/center]