[u][url=https://goo.gl/maps/FpH6B4XGad6hC8ic6]Love Street[/url][/u] [i]Lincoln Park, Tenebrae[/i] [@Lady Seraphina] In all honesty, he should have expected this sooner. The bottle rocketing towards him had strength behind it; it would hit hard, and it would hit fast. Dodging was an option, but as far as he could tell, there was no empty place in the bar for a safe impact. From where he stood, if he changed the trajectory by letting it bounce off his shoulder, his eyes glanced back… He could make it smash right into the Valkyrie’s table. Did she consider the others before lighting that thing? His hands were still outstretched, he could simply bat it back at her. Or at the very least, let it smash against the foot of the bar. Or better still, end it now and strike the bottle in the air with his power. Time ticked down as the bottle slowly spun, end over end, toward him. [centre]***[/centre] [i]Location: Unknown[/i] [i]Time: Unknown[/i] The smell of sterile equipment, the room lit in phosphorus blue. They were seated around the table, hushed. A tensious weight hung in the air. The boss, at the head of the table, glanced over. “Arc,” he said. “Yes, boss.” Arc drew himself to attention. “I’m adding one more principle to your task. She values freedom. Give it to her in a way that she may consider us.” Arc stared hard. They had evaluated this gang fighter as reckless and independent, and a standard conquer of will had been strategized. It was the first time boss mentioned freedom as a value for her. After some hesitation, Arc responded. “So we go alpha. I got it, boss.” “Arc,“ The boss’s tone made his palms clammy, ”This one’s complicated. We need her, but if we don’t play our cards right, we will lose her.” [centre]***[/centre] With the flaming bottle fast approaching, he realized what the boss meant when he gave the principle regarding Phantasm’s freedom. A plan snapped together in his head, crystal-clear in quality. He caught the bottle and crushed it with an arc of lightning, the alcohol and flames roaring to life. The fireball engulfed him, sending scorching heat through the bar. Patrons turned, slack-jawed. Someone screamed. He didn’t move. His eyes were bent on Phantasm, staring through the flames. Anyone else would have a hell of a time with this. Thankfully, his boss insisted he come prepared. From his pouch he procured a small, grey orb, which, upon impact with the ground, acted like explosive foam, covering him and the patrons around him in white extinguisher goo. The flames flickered and, without an oxygen source, receded, smoke curling off his body. He wiped a hand over his face, clearing his eyes. He could feel the urge to scold rising up in his chest. “Do you have any idea how much damage that could have done to literally anyone else?! Huh?” he gestured to the room, “If anyone else got hit with that, what would have happened?” He stared, eyes cold, before slowly patting off the foam. It dissolved, revealing the mild blistering of burns that could be seen along his arms and neck. He showed her that she could hurt him. The person that she felt threatened by. She was safe, free. That little seed would hopefully grow in her mind; the boss’s principle would be completed. The set-up with sand, he supposed, would have to wait. Arc pressed the bridge of his nose, taking a breath. This mark had so much potential, he was loathed to simply end it here. But the only way forward was to leave here and let her sort out what she wanted on her own. He gave her the promise of freedom, hell, even the example of freedom. Now would be the conclusion of that freedom. He gestured towards the briefcase. “381. That’s the code. The gift is yours. You managed to hit me and have completed your first mission.” In the briefcase, Phantasm would find a foam cut-out holding a small, black tube with a mouthpiece jutting out from the centre, with the sound of granules knocking against each other if she shook it. And beside it, a sealed invitation. [hr] [u][url=https://g.page/artinstitutechi?share]The Museum of Historical Sciences, a few blocks away from The Art Institute[/url][/u] [i]Loop, Tenebrae[/i] [@Shu] [i]“Alright, I don’t know who you are but if you’re offering high-profit work I’m interested in speaking further. That is after I have the diadem in my hand.”[/i] [code]“My dear Scarlet, that goes without question.”[/code] said the voice. The sound of tapping metal rung through the receiver. [code]”I have the diadem here with me. Escape the building, then to the rooftops of [/code][url=https://images.app.goo.gl/dzzHEAbCYikde8cc7]Ace Chemicals[/url][code], on the water’s edge of the Loop. There, you will have what you seek.”[/code] With that, the phone clicked. Chrono snapped the phone shut, staring grimly. The king’s words were always so precise. Despite the hard work and merit due for getting this far, the test wasn’t over yet. He knew there was only one way to escape a building, and it couldn’t be done quietly. His preparations before her arrival were ready, as per the king’s orders. Chrono had rigged the storage room’s door discreetly with explosives. In his free hand, he held up a remote and clicked a button. His arms instinctively went to shield his face, but he knew both he and the master thief were clear of the blast zone. On cue, the storage entrance ripped apart, door pieces and metal blowing off in different directions, painfully loud in its destruction. It only took a few seconds. A guard started yelling. Footsteps pounded the hall. Someone pulled the fire alarm, and a clanking wail reverberated through the building. In the span of half a minute, the museum became a disturbed hornet’s nest, angry and deadset on finding their culprits. Chrono pocketed his tools and shot through the lasers, crouching at the edge of the blast hole in the wall. His eyes flickered to the master thief, pausing his own escape. His anticipation was the same as the king’s; he wanted to see how an expert would handle their next move, especially with the sound of five guards rushing to their location. [hr] [u][url=https://goo.gl/maps/i9kiS3LzRpuwGXX1A]One333[/url][/u] [i]Near South Side[/i] [u][h3]Dream[/h3][/u] [centre][color=mediumslateblue][i]In the event of my untimely death, I would like to bequeath my business and wealth to…[/i][/color][/centre] She paused, pen hovering over lined paper, brows furrowed. [centre][color=mediumslateblue][i]to my brother, whose whereabouts are unknown--[/i][/color][/centre] She gave an irritated huff, tearing a line through the page. [centre][color=mediumslateblue][i][s]my brother, whose whereabouts are unknown[/s] my father, whose whereabouts are unknown--[/i][/color][/centre] No good. She scratched through the last line and laid back in her chair, sipping old coffee. The same coffee she half-spilled trying to ward off a soliciting drone. Cold, bitter, and in need of sugar to hide the ageing taste. Of course, the bitterness in her mouth wasn’t just from the coffee. The package had been a dead drop all right, a nice little USB packed with information. Top secret files, sensitive data that she was sure the government would be interested in. It was a little unbelievable, what she’d come to learn. A conspiracy, perhaps. Or maybe, the start of something big, and bad. A case file sat on her desk, string around the envelope and a handwritten ‘top-secret’ on the front in big black letters. The doctor had given her nothing short of an encyclopedia, and to be completely honest she had only printed off the text and skimmed through a few of the pages. From what she had gathered, the report went into detail on an institute’s criminal activity, hidden behind a facade of wholesome technology. To get involved was nothing short of a death wish. But then again, if she didn’t do something, it was possible this ‘organization’ would catch up to her anyway before they blew up the world. So here she was, fully dressed in costume, staring at a piece of paper that would be read after she was long gone. The thought itself was sobering, but even more so, the state of her affairs was not envious. She wrote one last sentence before signing the line, scooping up the case file, bag, and her cold coffee, and walked to the door. [centre][color=mediumslateblue][i]In the event of my untimely death, I would like to bequeath my business and wealth to... just give it to charity.[/i][/color][/centre] [hr] [u][url=https://goo.gl/maps/6ESdBqzvrfTfA6Ze8]James & Sons Fine Jewelers[/url][/u] [i]Near North Side, Tenebrae[/i] [@Blizz] [i]”So. You need me to help you take out this weapon before people get hurt badly.”[/i] The doctor vigorously nodded his head. “Yes, yes that’s exactly it.” He had a very short list of heroes that he felt he could approach with his offer. If even one said no, he didn’t know what he would do. He had thought of everything in his speech, all the important points that would pull at a good person’s heart. And he was sure he pegged Ellie for being a good person, even with his scant research. As he stared at Ellie’s face, he could only hold his breath. After a pause, she said, [i]”Well, ‘Kay. I’ll bite. Let’s do it. Get on.”[/i] The doctor heaved a sigh of relief, scrambling over to the backseat of the bike. Motorcycles were not his first method of transport; he considered them to be a breach of safety. Not to mention he didn’t have an ounce of leather on him. But the flashlights of cops caught on their trail gave him a larger worry and kept his comment about ‘hailing a cab instead’ to himself. He watched her light up the bike with apprehension. “A-are you sure this is”—the roar of an engine and tires peeling as she hit the gas—”s-saf—!” The air knocked out of his lungs, he could only hold on for dear life as they raced down the street, leaving the jewellery store and cops far behind. It was only when the air stopped whipping his face did he realize his eyes were squeezed shut, and he looked up. They were in front of a large apartment complex; her ease of maneuvering made it seem like she was familiar with the place. [i]”We’re clear now.”[/i] Akihiro sat a little stunned, his hair blown in a windy mess before he fumbled off the back seat. He tried to pat his hair back into place as they walked to her apartment. She let them in, Akihiro immediately taking off his shoes. “Ah, please excuse me,” he said. He wasn’t expecting her to let a stranger into her home, but under the circumstances, he did appreciate it. They were dealing with a serious subject, after all. As she sat on the couch, he stood awkwardly in front of her, unsure if he should just sit on the floor. [i]”So. A weapon that destroys cities...”[/i] “To put it lightly, yes.” he nodded. “Not only that, but if it’s complete, it will mean they’ve captured and harnessed every powerful meta in Tenebrae. We can rest assured it’s not ready yet because you’re still here.” A Miku ringtone startled the doctor, and he hastily patted his pockets. “Ah, p-please excuse me.” He checked the call screen and pressed his phone to his ear. “H-hello?” [code]“Doc, something tells me you’re not home.”[/code] said a feminine voice on the other line. His face lit up. “Really? You've accepted? Y-you’re right. I’m actually”—his eyes glanced to Ellie—”with your teammate right now. We were about to go over a plan of action. W-would you be able to come over to the North Side Apartments?” [code]“Hmm. I know where that is. I’m on my way,”[/code] she said before the call disconnected. The doctor smiled as he pocketed the phone. “That was Dream, another vigilante in the city. I consider myself very lucky—I never thought anyone would listen to me. If it’s okay with you, we’ll meet here and discuss the plan.” The phone was in his hand again, his smile turning gleeful. “And while we wait, why don’t I order us some food?” [hr] [u]North Side Apartments[/u][sup]™[/sup] [i]Near North Side, Tenebrae[/i] [@Blizz] [u][h3]Dream[/h3][/u] The headlamps of an old black caddy died while Dream pulled the key, door opening with a click. The North Side Apartments complex glowed across the street, completely silent. At this time of night, only a fool like herself would be on the streets. Well, she and the vigilantes and villains. The only folks with a crazy enough reason to be out with the Tenebrae moon. She reached the upper floors, making her way down the hall, counting the door numbers. The doctor mentioned which one to look for, but when she saw it, there was already someone there. A tired, young delivery man, red bag in hand, knocking on the door. “Food deliver—” the man’s head turned to her, tripping over his heels. “Ah! Don’t kill me, please!” Dream folded her arms, leaning back on her heels. She couldn’t blame the guy though. One could call it the natural Tenebrae habit to freak out at the sight of a suit, especially if it was in the dead of night, and more so if they were all alone. Most didn’t know the difference between a vigilante and a villain—at least, not yet. The man took her stillness as his opportunity to flee. He dropped the bag and ran down the other end of the hall and out of sight. Dream waited a few seconds, listening, before scooping the bag, knocking on the door again. Peeping through the hole, one would see a lady dressed in a formal black hooded suit, red bag in hand, straightfaced as she spoke in all seriousness. “Food delivery.”