[center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/315998304305545227/315998637735936004/coollogo_com-39941120.png[/img][/center] [center][sub]An Unwanted Eye[/sub][/center] [center][sub]Day of the Catastrophe[/sub][/center] [hr] A movie and dinner was their plan, but rarely do those accord. Pantheon was several hundred feet in the air as he flew behind the grey Honda. The trek to Lost Haven’s downtown area seemed a lot longer than usual, perhaps it was because of rush hour--as Manuel and Shati obeyed the rules of the road, Pantheon had to follow suit. He couldn’t lose them after all. When Manuel and Shati finally reached the downtown area, Pantheon landed softly some feet behind them; it was hard to remain inconspicuous given Pantheon’s size and strange costume. In a town like Lost Haven, though, it was easy to pass for a cosplayer. Shati and Manuel made their first stop a donut shop. Pantheon procured a bench across the street, eyes pinned on the two as they walked inside the small donut shop with hands joined together. They smiled and giggled, Manuel planted a kiss on Shati’s cheek. Hassan nearly puked. Hassan wasn’t going to make his move just yet--he had to let them believe they were truly alone before he made himself known. When they exited the donut shop and headed for the movie theater near the downtown square, Pantheon followed. Weaving through the downtown crowd was irritating. Eventually, Pantheon managed his way through the wave of bodies and caught up with the two teenage lovebirds. It was a shame they had both only ordered single donuts and not a dozen. Hassan, too, loved donuts--especially those with extra glaze and sprinkles. The couple finally reached the movie theater after a considerable walk and went inside, Pantheon followed behind. When Shati and Manuel reached the register to purchase tickets, Pantheon towered over them both; his shadow cast a cloud over them both. “Two tickets for--” “Three,” Pantheon added “Oh. . . my. . . FUCKIINNNGGG. . . GOD!” Shati burst! Hassan giggled and waved. Then he continued, “Three tickets for [i]Black Panther[/i], my man!” Hassan was brimming, “FIRST: We didn’t even come here for some stupid superhero movie, and SECOND: WHY ARE YOU HERE?” Shati rebuffed, volatile as could be. Hassan stuck a finger in his ear, her shouting made them sensitive. “Come on, Titi--you’re gonna give me a headache. Let’s stop all this shouting about things we can’t control, huh?! Let’s [i]enjoy[/i] ourselves!” Hassan shut up a chuckle. He wrapped Pantheon’s large arms around the two teens and escorted them toward their theater: 10 on the left. This was before he lay eyes on the concession stand: popcorn, hotdogs, pizza, soft pretzels--a dream. To the counter Pantheon went, Hassan was giddy! A young woman with shoulder blade length french braids walked up to the counter, “What can I do for you?” a smile wrought on her face, less because of her genuine desire to serve--as attested by puffy eyes and dark bags beneath those eyes--and more because of corporate protocol, “I’ll taaake. . .” Hassan tapped his chin, “two soft pretzels, two large popcorns, two nachos, and three hotdogs!” the young woman at the counter was shifted from her malaise momentarily and issued several amused--or perhaps offended--blinks, “That will be… 35.72.” Hassan twisted and pleaded with Shati in silence. He wasn’t getting paid for being a superhero, not yet anyway. “No. No, no, no! I’m not giving you anything! I’m calling ma!” -- Downtown traffic was still infuriating. Rahna’s large black SUV was a gas guzzler anyway. She had just filled it and it was already on a half tank. She was less than enthused. With grad school looming around the corner, she couldn’t afford to fix that dump of a car again. Looming in the back of her mind was more doubt: doubt about whether she should even be going to school, it wasn’t like she was keeping up with the loan payments she already had; there was doubt about what would happen to her family if her cousin were to ever become a target. If he did, could she protect him? Worse, could she [i]stop[/i] him? Pantheon, the warrior, was always violatile, violent, arrogant, aggressive. No other possessor of the entity had been able to subdue it when merged with it. She doubted her well-intentioned and bombastic cousin would fair any better. Her bottled fears were exacerbated when she heard the radio fade into the foreground of her conscious, “We warned you. We told you that compliance was non-negotiable. Yet you chose not to listen.” “The time for talk has passed. 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.” [i]No.[/i] That couldn’t be coming from who she surmised. Not the Hounds! They already had Lost Haven in their clutches with the attack on the University a while back. They struck again? Where? What had they done this time? It was then that she got a text from Bibi, [i]’Did you hear the news’[/i] ‘no what happened’ The video Bibi sent was grainy, but one could make out the audio well enough: “A tragedy has occured in our nation today. The entire city of Paris, Texas has been wiped out, and millions have lost their lives in Philidelphia this afternoon. We have no word on how man”--the black figure then appeared on screen and delivered the message Rahna had just heard in her radio, “We warned you. We told you that compliance was non-negotiable. Yet you chose not to listen.” “The time for talk has passed. 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.” Rahna’s gut twisted. She put a hand to her mouth to prevent herself from screaming. She couln’t veil her tears. Her phone slipped out of her hand. Her mind re-focused; her babies were out there. She had to go get them. The Hounds wouldn’t attack downtown would they? It was her dread of that unsurity that caused her to command the road in front of her: she weaved in and out of traffic, pushing well over 90. All the while, she grabbed her phone and called Shati. [i]Wee-oo, wee-oo, wee-oo[/i] The cops were already on her. -- Shati’s phone blazed a-ringing from inside her jeans’ pocket. After her outburst at Hassan, she answered it, her voice still salted with ire, “HELLO? WHO IS THIS?” Rahna pulled the phone away from her ear, “Why are you yelling? Is Panth--Hassan there?” Shati let out an exasperated sigh, by now Manuel and Hassan had struck up a conversation. Shati had a strong desire to murder them both. “Yeah, he’s here. Did you and ma send him here just to fuck with me?” “What? No, first of all: watch your mouth. Second, just put him on the phone, Ti.” “Pllth!” Shati wished she could punch Rahna in the face, too. Acquiesce, she handed the phone to Hassan. “It’s for you.” Hassan took the phone from Shati, he held it to his ear like a 40 year old businessman trying to work a bluetooth for the first time. Then he spoke, “Rahna. Are those sirens? Are you in dan--” “I’m fine, Hassan! Listen: something terrible is happening--I think the Hounds are behind it. I-- ” one could hear the burst of the truck’s engine utilizing all of its horsepower and the police sirens humming in the back, several horns honked in syncopation. Rahna screamed out the window, “make sure Titi and her boyfriend are alright! And Hassan, I’m counting on you. Keep [i]him[/i] under control. Don’t fuck up.” When the line went dead, Hassan stared at the phone. A surge of frustration rippled through him and he crushed Shati’s phone in his hand. And just as subtle, fear. These Hounds had before killed innocents without mercy, taken away people’s rights to enact their lives and liberties on their own accord, and the Hounds had done it again, this time millions of bodies were destroyed because of them. They would be responsible for mothers weeping over their children’s closed caskets; because of them there would be children who were now orphans; there would be lit and silent vigils--useless thoughts and prayers. And there would be no telling how many more would die, or if Hassan’s own family would be subject to their wrath. No. He wished he could destroy these Hounds himself, but that would be foolish--he would need help, but he knew of only the Alchemyst and Terra Firma. He would find others and there would be justice. He would take down these Hounds of Humanity--even if he had to give Pantheon control to do it.