[h1][b][i][color=aba400][center]Maximillian Gray[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h1][center][img]https://i.postimg.cc/rmBRrwyf/image.png[/img][/center][center][/center][hr][center][color=aba400][b]Location[/b][/color]: Blackstone
[color=aba400][b]Skills[/b][/color]: Basic Spellcraft, Conjuration[url=https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/596347699486261272/675191496856567839/tumblr_p9emi78Pdn1u8r3nho4_500.png]New Outfit[/url][/center]
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Max could feel himself slowly being lost amongst the others in the spell. Resisting with what he had left, even though he felt no malice from the coven. He could feel Pixies desire to be a hero, but what kind of Hero was willing to kill their enemies? The world wasn't as black and white as some people would say. Morality was grey, and even the strongest among us (like Wanda Maximoff) could fall prey to darkness only to be reasoned out of it. Max didn't know who these assailants were, but he didn't believe they deserved death. The voices of the coven spoke out, urging him not to be afraid. But his only fear was that he would make the wrong choice. His indecision led to a backfire, causing everyone to return to who they were as a cloaked figure made their way into Selene's sanctum.

Max's eyes darted back and forth between Selene and Cripta. Trying to gauge which of the two truly meant their words. But something Cripta said struck a chord with Max. [i]The rightful Sorcerer Supreme of this realm[/i]. Before Max could say anything in protest, Cripta chose to show a measure of their strength by turning some of the coven inside out. Max's eyes went wide in horror as he choked back bile. He placed one hand behind his back, the other arm stretched forward, palm to the side in a readied stance for both martial and mystic arts. The hand behind his back tried to Conjure a small portal. Just big enough to reach into his room. But the spell failed. He concentrated, letting the moon's rays touch him as he took slow and deep breaths and tried once more, feeling something working against him actively, and growing frustration inside of him.

He was supposed to be some hero. Something this island could look up to. A savior of mutantkind or something like that. Yet here he was unable to do the most simple of tasks. Max centered himself once more, choosing to ask for aid from a master who had told him before he needed to work things out on his own. [Color=aba400][i]"What do you know about a creature named Cripta, claiming to be the truthful sorcerer Supreme? How can I stop them? What should I do?"[/i][/color]

[i]“… I’ve never heard of such a thing. Normally I would urge you to remember your basics and compose yourself, but if the situation is dire… I would advise you let loose.”[/i]

Strange's reply was a welcome change. Not because of the advice given, but the familiarity of hearing him again and having a voice that wasn't Selene's in his head. [Color=aba400][i]Let loose. Ok[/i][/color] Max let out a slow exhale. His body now wreathed in cosmic energy as his magic spiraled out of control. His eyes appeared to be a void as he stared down at Cripta. Magic burst forth from him and large flames began to coalesce and become a massive hydra. It began to lash out towards Cripta, watching as the supposed 'Supreme being' managed to erect a shield just in time to defend himself.

[h1][b][i][color=E610B8][center]Echo[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h1][center][img]https://i.postimg.cc/9FWbx1tc/image.png[/img][/center][hr][center][color=E610B8][b]Location[/b][/color]: Hellfire Bay
[color=E610B8][b]Skills[/b][/color]: Laser Light Show, Pitch Perfect, Sound Wave Manipulation.[/center][hr][hr]

Harry sat there kneeling on the deck of the Marauder as he felt the ship sink much to his dismay. The icy water began to climb up his legs, quickly hitting his upper thigh before reaching his midsection. But Harry was still out of it. Staring off and collecting himself from the massive strain he had pulled off. There was no sound, and in an eerie way, it fit the scene perfectly. Harry was rapidly brought back into the fray as he felt white hot heat pressed against his chest, burning a hole in his shirt and barely missing the three tattoos that circled the area on his chest. His body was flung backwards, plunging him into the frigid waters and sending shock through his body as the heat immediately dissipated and was replaced with a biting cold.

Harry gripped his chest, lunging forward out of the water and gasping for air. He moved his hand carefully, cautiously, as if afraid to witness what would lay beneath it. There was no red, no stains of blood. And his sharp gasps slowed slightly as he tried to regain focus. It was moments like these he was glad that the sound was still put out. Knowing full well the ringing he would be experiencing had he heard the blast. Harry's eyes began to focus around him, noting Marrow was bleeding out profusely, and having no way of knowing if he should cauterize the wound. 

He went to go stand, when suddenly the world began to shake and shift. Harry thought it was an after effect of the explosion, before noticing the ship was lifting into the air as Waverly began controlling it in some way. If she could get the ship towards the medical center, her and Marrow could get looked at by James. Harry tried to establish a connection to Waverly, but he couldn't navigate the sounds. It was a wonder how Waverly did it so effortlessly, seemingly picking up each radio wave as if it was like picking an apple from a tree. While Harry stood here lost in a maze of radios not knowing which way to send it. 

Frustrated, Harry decided that he would just have to trust her to do what was needed while he, Callie, and Sunshine took care of the clones. He'd thought about saying a witty one liner. Something inspiring to help pick up morale after such a defeat. But he figured there was no point as it would fall on dead ears. So he decided to do what he did best, perform. Harry used every sound he could feel vibrating in the air. The water sloshing off the ship as it rose into the air, the grinding and creaking of the metal, the sounds of pain from his friends, and the footsteps of his enemies. 

Everything was now a weapon for him to use. And he used all of it. With a simple snap of his finger, dozens of lights began to shimmer and shine into existence. Ranges of colors from reds to blues, all the way to violet. Beams danced across the ship, cutting down the clones and reducing their numbers by half. He needed to stay focused. There were still 25 to their 4 and Harry needed to try and even the odds. But the blast still left him weak, and duplicating just wasn't in the cards yet.