[center][h1][b][color=dodgerblue]Wards:[/color] The End? No. Only the Beginning[/b][/h1] [@Old Amsterdam][@yoshua171][@Gardevoiran][@BCTheEntity][@Lugubrious][/center] The Wards came together in a coordinated assault from multiple directions. Messiah knew it was time to unleash everything she had on him to burn away his excess mass. In the midst of his transformations, Mastar dropped another large load of the black flammable substance from above, giving him a nice coating which caught ablaze. Even Margrave, who lacked the sheer damage output of the others, could still lay claim to assisting as the various tools he tossed grew back to full size and chipped away at small amounts of flesh. The projection came barreling toward Protean, its energy field further intensified, burning flesh up into black smoke all around. That was the biggest indicator that Protean wasn’t out for the count yet. [i][color=darkgreen]They haven’t noticed the thin membrane I’ve spread across the whole floor and walls. How I’ve been feeling their presence while otherwise blind. When that projection expanded across the whole hall I thought my plan was done for, but once it shrank and I reconnected with my severed tissues I knew they had no idea what’s in store.[/color][/i] The containment foam grenade landed nearby, signalling its presence to Protean as he felt it strike his membrane of flesh. This was it, then. No turning back now. Do or die. All across the hallway, from the floor to the walls to the ceiling, thousands upon thousands of little bumps grew out of the flesh membrane. [i][color=darkgreen]Colobopsis cylindrica: the exploding ant. With a cocktail of five different venoms and hardened carapace shrapnel mixed into the explosion…[/color][/i] [color=darkgreen]”I’m not going down alone!”[/color] he cried out, the sacks of flesh vibrating with contractions. [i][color=brown]This is it. This is… The crucial moment![/color][/i] Director Kens’ eyes intensified, as though he were burning a hole in the wall with his gaze alone. He took hold of the pistol tossed toward him by Tiger Lily, took aim, and fired on Protean… Completely missing the brute’s main body, instead striking the floor near his foot with the experimental foam bullet. Both the grenade, and the bullet, began expanding in a mass of patented containment foam. Truly a marvelous invention, strong enough to restrict the movement of all but the most dangerous brutes, spread on contact, and yet still porous enough to breathe through. It quickly spread up the turncoat’s legs and waist, expanding ever further up the torso and his nearing his neck line. Protean seemed shocked, as though something was wrong. [color=darkgreen]”What happened? Why haven’t my b-”[/color] And thus the changer-brute was silenced, his entire body encased in the foam. He knew not to try to break free by changing shape, as it would only pop the cells of the foam and cause more expansion. He was truly and utterly beaten. The thousands of bumps coating the walls, ceiling, and floor shrank back down, inert and inactive. Soft footsteps signalled the arrival of Director Kens, pistol still in hand as he clutched his wound. The bleeding had only gotten worse, and his skin was turning white. [color=brown]”Good… Job… Wards…”[/color] Their boss slumped over onto the floor, the pistol skidding along until it hit the wall, stopping to be just as motionless as the director himself. No doubt about it, the man needed [i]immediate[/i] medical attention. Still, he pushed himself far harder than any man his age, or as injured, should. [color=brown]”Secretary… Community. Shot me… Got her back.”[/color] He wheezed, not looking up. [color=brown]”More important. Patriarch… Confirmed master… Not their fault… Brainwashed.”[/color] The director slipped into unconsciousness. [i]9:03 a.m.[/i] [hr][hr] [center][h1][b][color=red]The Jacks:[/color] The Destruction Continues[/b][/h1] [@yoshua171][@BCTheEntity][@Eklispe][@Old Amsterdam][@Crusader Lord][/center] [i]Bang. Bang. Bang.[/i] Bomb after bomb dropped, only to be immediately destroyed safely thanks to Headhunter’s absolutely invaluable power. The Jacks could not have asked for a better answer to the problem at hand, which meant they only had to figure a solution to Doctor Dean himself. The pattern was simple, predictable, and easy. Tracked and reported by Chatterbox’s loyal fans, Thunderbolt had little trouble in chasing down his target even with his two burdens. Skipping past one bomb to be better prepared for the next opportunity, the chance came exactly as the rest of the pattern suggested it would. A bright white light signalled the opening of a portal, and Thunderbolt was ready for it. Thanks to Whimsy’s power allowing him to interact safely with the portal, the brute’s massive hand reached in and grabbed the villainous tinker by the face, shoving him straight into the ground. The palm attack came with an audible [i]crack[/i] as the power armor helmet snapped, and probably some bones as well. As Thunderbolt reeled back to slam his fist into the murderer, Doctor Dean attempted to press another button located on the palm of his hand, only to be interrupted by another bolt of electricity from Alloy. Once he stopped convulsing, the readout on the inside of his helmet went black: his equipment had finally completely died. He was alone, injured, unarmed, and helpless against the onslaught of the Jacks. A pummeling which he rightly deserved for casually killing hundreds of people just today alone. For the first few hits, the tinker tried to mount up a defense, to block with his arms, but it proved fruitless. He may as well have been tissue paper fighting back against a tidal wave for all the good that it did. Only two more slugs from the 6’10” goliath and Dean couldn’t muster up even that much strength. He was barely alive, bleeding out within his broken suit, bones splintering, and going into shock. But there was still one trick left up his sleeve. [i][color=lightseagreen]Defend me from these villains![/color][/i] The mental command echoed through the annals of reality, pulling into possibilities of never-weres and always-there. The command reached a recipient chosen at random, thrusting that one out from where they stood. [url=https://i-h2.pinimg.com/564x/fb/4a/f8/fb4af81cc61d6d813b2ce66e2858acb3.jpg]A new arrival[/url] now stood nearby, in striking distance of Thunderbolt, Whimsy, and Alloy. They held two curved blades, glowing with a neon blue energy, bronze ornate armor, a featureless reflective mask, and red leather costume with matching cape and hood. With one sword they quickly jabbed toward Thunderbolt, only to stop just short of slicing the brute’s neck. They paused for a few seconds before speaking. [color=lightseagreen]”Something is wrong.”[/color] His voice sounded perfectly identical to that of Doctor Dean. The man pulled his blade away, looking around at the carnage and destruction, then back to the Jacks. [color=lightseagreen]”I see. Well, I think not.”[/color] He plunged his right blade down into Doctor Dean’s arm, nailing the tinker to the ground. It sliced through his armor and body like air, as though it weren’t even there. The murderer gave a final sputter, then died with a whimper. [color=lightseagreen]”He summoned me to kill you in a last ditch effort to defend himself, but my power informed me of the destruction he has wrought, and I refuse. I cannot offer enough of an apology to you all for the trouble this one has caused.”[/color] The newcomer kicked off Doctor Dean’s mask, revealing his [url=http://mspabooru.com//images/31/0e657cd804830531eb8fec7f798ecd70ce1998d8.png?30058]true face beneath.[/url] He then pulled off his own mask to reveal an identical face, though he wore a scar over his left eye, which appeared to be blind. [color=lightseagreen]”We are both Dean Ryder. Different versions of the same person from different realities. Some Deans carry the ability to summon others to battle for them, but this is a death sentence. Paradox kills us in under a minute, and the power transfers to the last living Dean. I suppose I now possess this unholy ability, as I am now stranded on your earth. I do not know what name this vile creature went by, but you may call me Chivalry.”[/color] Chivalry placed his mask back on and reclaimed the sword he left buried in his doppelganger’s arm. [i]9:03 a.m.[/i] [hr] [center][b][h1]I Own This City[/h1][/b] [@Spiffy][/center] [color=7d0552]”Are we all set?”[/color] An angry voice inquired of several people running about the television station. “Very nearly, father,” answered a harried man as he quickly flipped a number of switches. [color=7d0552]”Remember that the broadcast needs to be cloned across every local station! No excuses!”[/color] he snapped back, the rage boiling just beneath the surface, threatening to lash out at anything that might displease him. “Of course, sir! Connor is on it right now!” The man went back to his work. “Almost ready. We’ll be on the air in 2 minutes!” [color=7d0552]”You have one.”[/color] And so the exchanges went back and forth, until they were fully prepared. The station’s security were posted just outside the doors, allowing the operations within to occur. Media personnel ran about the station making all the adjustments that they could. Nearby two well know, powerful villains, Sonika and Xolotl, oversaw that things were progressing according to the timetable. Finally, it was ready. “We’re live in five. Four. Three. Two.” The man silently mouthed the word “one” then pointed at the man they were filming. All around cameras lit up. The broadcast had begun. All across Denver city proper, all the adjoining suburbs, all across Northern Colorado, all television active television screens lit up as a single program interrupted whatever scheduled shows were currently playing. [url=https://i-h2.pinimg.com/564x/30/2f/c0/302fc0f4beaab9e942c5416fc6000270.jpg]A single man[/url] stood on an open set staring directly into the camera. The single most infamous man in the state. [color=7d0552]Good morning, Denver. I trust no introductions are necessary, but just in case any of you remain ignorant I’ll indulge anyway. I am Patriarch. According to the public, I am the leader of The Community. While this is true, it minimizes my role to an insulting degree.”[/color] Though he spoke calmly, anybody with an ounce of social intelligence could feel the rage brimming within him. [color=7d0552]”You’ve all made the mistake of assuming that just because I united all the gangs in Denver that The Community was itself a gang, but you couldn’t be more wrong. It’s all in the name.”[/color] [hr] [color=cyan]”Wards, there’s been a new development you need to see!”[/color] Decoy called out over the communicators. A nearby projector animated Patriarch’s broadcast on the wall. [hr] [color=7d0552]”The Community is exactly that: the community in which we all live and thrive. This very city. My power maintained a certain status quo. Kept the peace, as it were. But there were you ungrateful [i]heroes[/i] who decided that I am not entitled to the luxury of reward for my actions, that I am a villain! And to all those who fly the flag of being a villain, they refuse to see the beauty in my rule and try to usurp me! [i]Ungrateful the lot of you![/i]”[/color] He slammed his fist into the backdrop wall, which collapsed onto the ground with a shaking rumble, revealing the back set of the tv station… As well as a single individual tied up and unconscious on a gurney. [color=7d0552]”This is the worst offender of you brats, an FBI agent by day named Judah Raines. I would say you may know him by his cape name Mantis, but you probably don’t. This hell raiser has made a name for himself among my people for slaughtering them wholesale!”[/color] [hr] Miraculously, the tv monitors in the airport were still more or less functional. As the broadcast went on, Chivalry tilted his head at the ravings of the lunatic on screen. [color=lightseagreen]”It seems this world is in need of justice.”[/color] [hr] [color=7d0552]”You have all suspected it for some time now. I’m not certain how the word got out, but it did and I see no reason to deny it. I have a certain influence on people. I make you see things my way, which I’ve used to unite everyone together, but it seems there are those who are [i]desperate[/i] to cling to violence and chaos, much like Mantis here. That is why I have showed you all the error of your ways today, shown you where your lack of respect and discipline takes you! Now that you’ve seen the punishment, I am sure you’ll all see things my way, one way or another… Just as Mantis is about to.”[/color] [hr] [center][h3][b]Denver Geological Survey Center[/b][/h3][/center] “Are you seeing this batshit crazy talk, Jim?” A black woman in business casual sat at her desk, commenting on the broadcast as she looked over the recent survey records. “No kidding,” Jim sighed, taking a sip of his coffee. “The streets are a warzone because he’s sending all his crazed flunkies out off the leash, and it’s our fault?” “I’m just glad nobody has been attacking us here,” the black woman said. Jim nodded, pursing his lips. “Hey… Hey, are you seeing this?” she called her partner over to inspect the live readouts. “Does this look right to you?” Jim squinted, taking a closer look. After a moment, his coffee cup hit the floor and shattered, ceramic and hot coffee spilling everywhere. “Marsha, we have to alert the PRT!” Marsha reeled back. “You mean-” “Yes, I do!” Jim interrupted, rushing toward the nearest phone. “Oh god oh god, I… I gotta call my loved ones!” she fumbled with her own cellphone while Jim grabbed the office phone. He dialed the emergency number given to connect directly to Decoy’s system. “This is Jim Cavanaugh at the Geological Survey Center. We’ve got a big ass problem, and by my calculations less than an hour to get ready for it.” “This is Marsha Wilkes. You need to get a message to Father right now.” [hr] Thousands upon thousands of eyes were glued to their screens as Patriarch approached Mantis. Meters became feet. Feet became inches. He teased with his hands, reaching closer to Mantis before pulling back like a cat toying with a mouse. Then it happened. All across the city, sirens went off. Sirens that were built to warn of impending threat, but not just any impending threat. Behemoth was coming.