[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/TjK9IKd.png[/img][/center] Travis Murdock stood in front of the massive computer bank that lined the inside of the Hounds of Humanity’s command center just outside of Lost Haven. This was where he would monitor the numerous operations that his subordinates would carry out across the country. At the very beginning, things were going very well. The Hounds of Humanity had eliminated a number of metahumans targets all over the US, including the very organization which had been tasked with keeping the meta threat at bay, S.T.R.I.K.E. Unfortunately, Director Anderson and the pencil pushers in Washington had come out decidedly soft on the metahumans. However, recently the metahumans began fighting back. They had suffered losses in Pacific Point, Crown Ridge, and Lost Haven, among other sites. In fact, with the exception of Captain Dahl, Murdock had been extremely disappointed in his subordinates. Murdock had watched as his forces suffered loss after loss, and the leader of the Hounds of Humanity found this string of defeats to be utterly unacceptable. He knew that there must be something that he was missing, so he took a seat behind the main computer terminal and began to analyze the data. He knew that if he just looked hard enough, he’d find a way to turn things back in the Hounds’ favor. However, after several moments of going over the information before him, his eyes began to gloss over, his mind became somewhat foggy and he was no longer in the Hounds’ bunker, he was someplace else, in another time altogether. The sun was shining brightly on this bitter cold day. The day before saw a snowstorm that had covered the streets of Lost Haven in a blanket of crisp white snow that had transformed the city into a true winter wonderland. The holidays were only a few weeks away, and with the newly fallen snow, Murdock had been reminded of the Holidays of his youth, and he wanted nothing more than to relive those memories with his own family. Having recently moved to Lost Haven from Arizona, his daughter Judith, nor his wife Lilly, both being native Sun Devils, had never experienced anything like this. The city streets were lined with Christmas trees, each decorated and illuminated by row after row of lights. The shops were also festively decorated; lights and tinsel adorned the doorways of some, while others chose a more naturalistic look, choosing instead wreaths and strands of pine. Judith rushed enthusiastically from tree to tree, looking at all of the decorations, which had been provided by the local elementary school children. Only taking her attention from the trees long enough to look in the window of The Toy Case, a local toy store which had an impressive display of MyGirl dolls in the front window. “Look at this Daddy!” She had gleefully called to him. Then in an instant, everything changed. There was no warning of any danger in the vicinity. There was just an explosion. One moment Lilly and Judith had been looking at the “North Pole” MyGirl doll display in the window, then an instant later, there was a loud noise, and then nothing but darkness. At first, Murdock had thought he was dead. However, after the initial shock of the blast had worn off, he tried to get to his feet. His legs were like spaghetti at first, making it difficult to get firm footing. His ears were ringing. He stumbled as he tried to get over to the spot where his wife and daughter had been standing just moments before. “Lilly! Judith!” He cried out, frantically searching for his wife and daughter. “Sir! Are you alright?” a voice stirred him from his daze. He looked to his left and saw one of his subordinates, a young man named James Clancy, who, do to his taste in dessert pastries had earned the unflattering nickname Creampuff. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Murdock said as he shook the memories from his mind. “Is everything all set?” “Yes Sir.” Clancy replied. “We’re just waiting for you.” “Good, set the targeting computer for Nautican Island, Paris, and Philadelphia, as discussed.” Murdock told the man. “Yes Sir.” Clancy did as he was told. “The coordinates are locked in, just waiting for your order.” “No. I’ll do it myself.” Murdock said as he stepped over to the console that Clancy was standing in front of. He looked at the coordinates, double checking their accuracy, and then entered the command which would initiate the bombardment. [center]***[/center] [i][b]Nautican Island, Massachusetts[/b][/i] The small island located about forty miles off of the coast of Boston had an interesting history. The island had once a whaling powerhouse on the world stage. Then, in the 1860’s, Nautican Island became one of the greatest assets of the Underground Railroad, a place so far off of the beaten path that the southern bounty hunters never thought to even look there for escaped slaves. Eventually, the island became a resort community that was frequently visited by the rich and famous. In the decades that followed, the blue collar working class residents were forced off of the island due to the rising costs of living that came about as a result of the rich driving up the cost of housing. Desperate for a new working class, which became necessary when the residents that had previously served that purpose being priced off of the island, the Nautican Island tourism board reached out to the rising meta human population around New England. The island businesses sought to bring in a large number of meta humans with the promises of cheap and even sin some cases free housing, and high wages. And they came in droves. Over time, Nautican Island took on a whole new identity separate from the playground for the rich and powerful that it had taken on in the decades prior to the influx of meta humans. Kristine Grant waded in the waters at Surfside Beach, which was located on the south side of the island. She and her boyfriend, Cole Pierce had come at sunset to partake in what had become somewhat of a tradition among islanders, skinny dipping as the sun seeming sinks beneath the waves. The two young lovers splashed as the frolicked in the churning surf beneath the majestic multicolored sky. The pinks, purples, oranges, reds and blues that canvassed the early evening sky were utterly breathtaking, and as Kristine looked up and the marvelous colors, she couldn’t help but think that she was the luckiest woman in the world. Then something changed. The brilliant colors were blotted out, overpowered by an odd red glow. Kristine and Cole watched as the strange red glow grew brighter and brighter. Then, an instant later it was almost like the sky fell, the last thing that Kristine and Cole saw was a massive wall of red light crashing down on them. For an instant there was a searing pain that was like nothing that either had experienced, and then there was nothing. [i][b] Paris, Texas[/b][/i] In recent years, there was a growing problem in Paris, Texas. The city of less than 30,000 people, which had once been named “The best small town in Texas,” had seen an influx of gangs and crime. Under normal circumstances, the increase in crime would prove to be problematic for a city the size of Paris. At only 44 square miles, the violence that would typically accompany the arrival of gangs was magnified. However, the crisis that Paris found itself embroiled in was far from normal. The city had been utterly invaded by super powered gangs. Some of the gangs had moved in from Dallas and other larger cities to the south. The gangs used brutal tactics adopted from gangs such as Mara Salvatrucha, otherwise known as MS-13, and Death Squad in order to take control of the city. The gangs were too much for local law enforcement to handle, and quickly took firm control of the city. Then they turned on each other. Over that last eighteen months, a bloody war was waged on the streets of Paris. The Belmont Crew and the 7th Street Hustlers took pot shots at one another while the Bloods, Crips, Latin Kings and the Lone Star Syndicate made Paris a complete war zone. Unfortunately for the residents of the city, which had seen it’s local and state police forces all but give up on reigning in the violence, they had little hope that the war would end anytime soon. Unlike other cities like Lost Haven or Pacific Point, Paris didn’t have much in the way of heroes or vigilantes to stem the tide. There were no colorfully dressed heroes to stop the gangs so the people simply stayed out of their way as best as they could. However, now all that remains of Paris, Texas is a smoldering crater. One minute, the people who called Paris home were going about their daily lives, working, sitting in classrooms, shopping, and in some areas of the city, fighting and killing one another. Then the entire city was engulfed in a strange reddish hue as the skies turned red. Then a massive wall of energy came down from the sky, incinerating everything within the city limits. [i][b]Philadelphia, Pennsylvania[/b][/i] It had seemed like a normal day when Carrie Smith crawled out of bed that morning. She showered and made her lunch and mentally prepared herself for another day at Parker and Associates, where she toiled each day as a glorified secretary. Her boss, Gerald Smith, who was of no relation was a pig. At 70 years old, he came from a different era when sexual harassment and casual racism were just a fact of everyday life. He wasn’t going to change, and even the partners at the firm had given up on making him try. She would just continue ignoring his off color comments and focus on getting through the day, which is exactly what she’d done every day for the last three years. When she first started, she found him to be somewhat off putting, but nothing that she couldn’t handle. In recent months he had become completely unbearable, which was part of the reason that she had as of late, been discretely searching for a new job. She had a few leads and felt that she would soon be moving on to greener pastures. And as much as she was looking forward to giving her two weeks notice, she was very much looking forward to her exit interview, where she would tell her superiors what a lecherous old prick Gerald really was. However, she was looking forward to the end of the work day for another reason. She had managed to score tickets to the Phillies game for later that night. When she was a girl, her father took her to the ballpark every chance he got. And while it had been years since she’d been to a game, she was very much looking forward to taking her girlfriend Lori for her first time. Once Carrie had finished her morning chores, she gathered her belongings and headed off to work. Carrie was very much the embodiment of what it means to be from the City of Brotherly Love. She was a woman who knew exactly what she wanted in life, and she had a pretty good idea of what she had to do to make her dreams come true. She worked hard so that she could play hard, and she loved to play. There wasn’t a bar on the east side of the city that she couldn’t maneuver blindfolded, and she was a loyal devotee to the city’s pro sports teams. She believed that the culture of the city, as well as its liberal views and policies made it one of the greatest cities on Earth. During her lunch break she had read an article on the city’s plans to introduce a new municipal ordinance which would grant metahumans special protections, much in line with the protections offered to other protected minorities. The plan was making headlines all across the country as Philly was the first city in the nation to explicitly make metahumans a protected class. “Good for them.” She whispered to herself as she gathered her belongings and prepared to go back to her desk. As she made her way down the hallway toward her desk, she noticed a small cluster of people gathered in front of the large bay windows which offered a spectacular view of the city. Dread washed over her as she saw the panic on the faces of those gathered there. Something was going on, and she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know what that was. When she got to the window and was able to see exactly what it was that they were looking at, she couldn’t believe her eyes. The entire city was bathed in a ruby colored light. And while it was oddly beautiful, Carrie knew that something wasn’t right. In fact, something was terribly wrong. However, before she was able to give voice to her concerns, the window exploded, sending glass and bodies flying in every direction. [center]***[/center] All across the country, people were glued to their television screens as every major television network was covering what was believed to be the latest attack by the Hounds of Humanity. They watched in horror as news reports rolled in, detailing the devastation that had been wrought upon the country. “Again, Nautican Island, Massachusetts and Paris, Texas have been completely destroyed. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania was also devastated in the attack which government officials have confirmed originated from the satellite weapon that destroyed the home of billionaire industrialist Christopher Arthur. Please stay tuned, we’ll provide more information as it becomes available. But as of now, thousands have been confirmed dea…..” The voice of the news anchor was cut off by static as the live news feed was interrupted. Replacing the various newscasters on television screens across the country was a familiar sight. A single man shrouded in shadow, apparently looking directly into a camera. When the man spoke, his digitally altered voice did not give any more warnings, and he did not offer some grand explanation of what had just happened. Instead, he had a simple message. “We warned you. We told you that compliance was non negotiable. Yet you chose not to listen.” “The time for talk has past. From this moment on, you are either with us or you are against us.” “We are coming, and you will either stand with us, or you will burn with them.”