“There’s not a way to answer that without offending you, is there?” asked Richie, a smile across his face that would have been as clear as day if the mask he wore didn’t hide it quite so well.

He watched as the APCA agent brought herself off of the ground on a current of frigid air that bit at Richie’s skin through even his black fight suit, a costume specifically designed to ward off the elements. Natasha Frost danced through the sunset-blazed sky in a flurry of frost and snow. Everything Natasha seemed to do was filled with an unnatural grace; every action was a performance to be adored, filled with mystery and intrigue. Richie watched the woman for a few moments longer, analysing her every movement like a hawk. He would be lying if he said he was simply enjoying the display of power though. As much as the APCA had offered him over the years and as close as he had come to agent Frost, Richie had a hard time trusting either of them entirely. He wanted to know every trick that she had at her disposal, just in case the APCA decided Richie had outlived his usefulness. Riche knew that Director Monroe would send agent Frost after him, if only to play mind games.

Richie’s feet shifted, the glider beneath him moving to support the man’s attempts at balance. It caused him and his glider to rotate on the spot, his body now facing away from his home and towards the built up areas of Metro Bay. With a twitch of Richie’s finger the glider rose further from the ground, matching Natasha’s altitude and slowly picking up speed to keep with the pace that she set. It was mere seconds before they both vanished from the scene, propelled through the air like missiles towards the spiralling constructs that made up most of Metro Bay.

“By comfortable,” replied Richie, his glider briefly bringing him to ride alongside agent Frost before breaking away to avoid a slender building. Once the building had passed, Richie’s glider moved to position him beside her again. “I hope you mean practical. You know that Skull-Man isn’t a fan of the APCA poking around and I have a feeling these other metahumans aren’t going to be either. I have a feeling a pair of jeans and a shirt won’t protect you from any of them.”

He had hoped to meet up with the group of metahumans as quickly as possible, avoiding any and all delays, but Natasha insisted on changing her clothes. He understood the preference to wear her APCA uniform though. It would help preserve her anonymity which would be vital but also provide her with a little bit of extra physical protection. They were meeting with a group that did not expect them, did not trust them, and might as easily try to kill them as look at them.

Richie nearly vomited when he realised Skull-Man might have to play diplomat between the two parties.

Still listening to the conversation over his headset, Richie had started to understand the situation. There were three metahumans involved in the discussion, four if you included the one man over the phone whom Richie had nicknamed “Ground Zero” many weeks beforehand. Along with Skull-Man and a women who called herself “Ra”, another man by the name of Red Dragon had blown his cover. Richie had never heard of him before and he assumed Natasha had not either, making him a missing piece in his web of information. That made him dangerous. The conversation that Richie had overheard portrayed Red Dragon as a calm, logical individual, yes, but he was still an abnormality. Richie would have to keep a close eye on him should the worst come to worst.

Natasha had told him of aliens only moments ago. Now Richie could hear this group of metahumans speaking of the same thing. Apparently Ra and Red Dragon had spoken to one and even ended up in a fight with one, and now they were seeking out Hercules in the vain hope that he might have been able to explain the situation. This was just getting stranger and stranger.

Hercules and Agent Frost took a short detour towards “her place”, which Richie assumed to be one of several APCA safe houses scattered across major cities. The chances of it being her actual home were slim. He doubted she even lived in Metro Bay, let alone be willing to show him exactly where she lived. Natasha changed into her agent’s uniform quickly, a mix of leather that clung tightly to her body and Kevlar plating, well protected but doing nothing to restrict her movement. It was equipped with all sorts of gadgets and gismos but when compared to Richie’s own Lionskin flightsuit it was incredibly bare-bones.

Richie told Natasha of what she knew about the two metahumans as she changed, both of them rookies with only basic control of their powers. Despite this, some of the tales they spun were quite eccentric. Richie wondered if every word of them was true. He knew little of Red Dragon though, the real stranger in this group of misfits, and everything he knew of Skull-Man Natasha knew too.

Once Natasha had finished preparing they both shot off into the sky again, following the soft ping of Richie’s guidance system.

Further off in the city, Allison, Red Dragon, and Skull-Man stood discussing their situation. Skull-Man felt the need to blurt out as many jokes (or at least what he considered jokes) as fast as he could which irked Allison, but at least she had Red Dragon to voice her complaints instead. At least Skull-Man was right on one thing; the meeting with the alien warrior was incredibly bizarre and they needed to talk to someone better informed about what to do next. Skull-Man’s babbling was so long winded an incoherent that Allison almost missed him stating that he didn’t even know how to locate the flying vigilante Hercules.

Allison cursed under her breath. “Well, if you don’t know where he is then we’ll just have to find him, won’t we? Are there are locations you’ve used as meeting points? Areas that he frequents? Do you know anything about him that is not directly related to the Hercules persona-”

Her voice was halted by the sounds of engines whirring, propellers cutting through the air and thrusters roaring like flames. Allison’s eyes darted to the skies, spotting two glistening dots of movement from off in the distance, one engulfed in white fog and the other coated in black, a stream of flames trailing behind it. She could tell even from this distance that one of them was Hercules, recognising the iconic glider he owned, but the other person was a mystery to her.

Instinctively, Allison’s armoured skin resurfaced. It helped to disguise her identity, if only just.

Soon the two groups collided. Natasha brought herself to a safe landing on the roof but Hercules kept his stance on his glider, hovering just off of the side of the building. He stood, arms folded, and nodded to the group. “You three aren’t very good at hiding. We could hear your com chatter from half the city away,” teased Richie, glancing at Allison for a moment.

[I]How did he know?[/I] thought Allison, her eyes widening a little as panic set in. Had he heard their entire conversation? Had that been how him and his companion, the woman who seemed to manipulate frost, had found them so quickly? Did this mean he knew about Walter? Her hands fumbled in her pockets, switching her phone off. Walter would have to wait.

She awkwardly shook the woman’s hand when she was introduced. “N- nice to meet you both. I am Ra,” Allison said, although her expression did not show as much joy as her words implied.

“So there are si- Five of us now. It’s a pleasure to meet you two newcomers. I’d love to plan a more spectacular welcome but I think we have more pressing issues at hand. Frost and I know of the recent alien activity and it seems as if we now have two people who’ve made direct contact,” said Hercules. He turned his head to Red Dragon. “What did it want?”

“[b]He[/b] talked about finding champions. He mentioned you and Skull-Man by name,” Allison interrupted. “Red Dragon and I were going to find you two to see if you knew anything. The alien didn’t say much more than that though.”

Richie frowned, but then his vision blurred. Static filled his communicator and the minimap in the corner of his heads up display flared up wildly from all directions. His frown turned into a curious smile. His security drones had faced identical issues the moment they had collapsed. “Well, we’re probably going to find out what this alien has planned for us right about-”

A flurry of light shot down from the heavens, blinding the group. A figure formed as the light faded, an alien creature in thick, medieval-looking armour and wielding a large staff. He spoke with heavily accented English, eagerly hoping for the party’s help. He spoke of chaos, believing that whayever situation hindered him meant the difference between the life or death of his people. Hercules brought his glider closer, his feet slipping from the magnetic locks. He leapt from the glider, landing heavily on the building’s roof. His hands moved to his helmet, unfastening it. There was a click and a hiss as the helmet slid off of his head. Riche held the helmet underneath his arm.

“Of course we’ll help.”