Frogs’ Lair
San Maria, California“The Outside Ones?” Angela asked, looking from frog to frog. “You’re sure that’s what he said? ‘The Outside Ones’?”
Art nodded, “That’s what he called them. Said that’s what the Eye’s gods were called. It’s not much, but it’s something.”
“Okay, well I have a paper I need to get done for after break, I’ll do some researched at the library tomorrow,” she responded, packing up her stuff. “I can’t promise anything, but who knows. The college library has literally everything.”
“Thanks, Angela,” Clara smiled as their friend left through her secret entrance. Bach and Ludwig were already asleep. She turned to Art, “That wasn’t what I expected tonight. It seems like our situation gets worse and worse all the time.”
“Well, we started off as captive science experiments with no real life,” Mozart put his arm around his sister. “So I think we may have improved a bit.”
She shook her head and stood up from the couch, before beginning to pace around the circular living room of the bunker they called home. She moved around the recliners, tables, TV, and games they had strewn about the room as she did. Art knew what this meant. She was in her own head about everything they were taking on. She was by far the brightest of the four, but that meant she also worried the most.
“When we started we were taking on an evil tech company and some gangs. Now it’s interdimensional demon gods and their cult, not to mention people from other dimensions posing as children's characters?” she shook her head and was dismayed. “We’re in over our heads. I don’t know how we can do this.”
“We might be over our heads,” he agreed. “But we’re still going to fight this fight.”
“Even if it gets us killed?” she shot back. “Even if it’s hopeless?”
“Especially if it’s those things,” he answered. “Look around the world. We live in extraordinary times. Who are we to deny the burden that’s fallen to us while so many heroes around us carry theirs without complaint? I don’t know why we’re here. Hell, I don’t know how we’re here. But I believe, deep down, that we were put here for a reason. From where I’m standing, it’s to find out what the Eye, IDRG, and the rest are up to and put a stop to it. Whether we can or not.”
She stood and contemplated his words. She knew he was right, as much as she hated to admit it. Clara felt the same from time to time. But the voice in the back of her head also told her it was a suicide mission. It was, however, their suicide mission. And they’d see it through.
“You’re right...I’m gonna get some sleep. You should too. Love ya, brother.”
“Love you too, sis.”
**********
El Bandito’s Compound
Pinebluff, CaliforniaEl Bandito sat in his office, a shrine to the empire he had built in Pinebluff. The furniture that adorned his mansion on the edge of town was the finest money could buy. Dozens of cars adorned his garage. Gold adorned his neck, wrists, and fingers. It truly was good to be the king, and he had no desire to lose that status.
He grew up as poor as poor could be. He started selling drugs as soon as he knew how to add, and being abnormally large and strong his entire life allowed him to do so without protection. Aside from the gun he kept on him at all times, of course.
When he started on the streets, this town was the wild west. Gang after gang sat on top of the mountain, only to be pushed off months later by the next would-be king of crime. Chaos reigned, and profits were lost to petty differences and egos. No one saw how the west was open for businesses. The gangs in the east were content with their lot in life, and didn’t want to risk expanding west. All he had to do was align the domestic gangs against the foreign invaders. The Chinese, the Japanese, the Mexicans. They all wanted their share, and he knew that was his ticket to the top. It wasn’t a race thing. He himself was a descendant of Mexican heritage, hence the green, red, and white luchador mask he wore whenever he was conducting business. But he knew he could use petty prejudices and patriotism to manipulate the muscle in this town to work for him.
Once that was done, he had an army, one strong enough to push out the foreigners and “consolidate” and local holdouts. Once a few local bosses ended up full of lead, the rest of the riff raff fell in line quickly. Then it was simple to branch his influence into the rest of the west coast cities. It was the start of an Empire, but one that now seemed to be on perilous foundations.
For five years he ruled the criminal underworld of Pinebluff with an unquestioned hand. Until the Church of the All-Seeing Eye decided to take up residence in his territory. At first, he just assumed they were a cult. A weird murder now and again wasn’t a problem for him. In fact, it was a welcomed distraction for the police. If the cops were out investigating some satanic murder, they wouldn’t be keeping an eye on his drug shipments. He liked not having the attention.
Of course, that was before the witch that led the church showed up in the middle of his weekly meeting with his lieutenants. And by “showed up” of course, he meant the damn witch teleported right in, exploding out of some oil-cocoon that appeared out of nowhere in their meeting room. His bodyguards, Crash and Burn, tried to waste her, but their guns turned to inside-out snakes in their hands. Guts on the outside, but still alive. Crash puked immediately, and Burn damn near passed out.
She told the assembled men and women that San Maria and Pinebluff’s criminal underworld would now serve new masters. The Eye would be dictating what went down from now on.
He had laughed at her that night. Said that there was no way some creepy crawly supe would take over his towns, superpowers or not. It was then she snapped her fingers. Those inside-out snakes twisted, grew, and screamed in front of him. They turned from snakes into some sort of messed up komodo dragons, tar streaming from their gaping, teeth-filled mouths. The creatures proceeded to eat three of his lieutenants. He wanted to look away. He wanted to run. Everyone in the room did. But it was like the carnage had hypnotized them.
After the display of power, he begrudgingly agreed to her terms. He couldn’t do anything else, besides end up a snack as well.
It had been over a year since then, and he still had no idea what he was really moving for the Eye. Mostly, it was business as usual for him. Every once in a while the Eye would call and he’d send some men to pick up shipments for them. Otherwise, he was doing what he did best.
Things had changed in recent weeks however. The calls were getting more frequent, and things in San Maria were getting more violent. The killings had increased. IDRG had started using damned robots to patrol the streets, killing his business in the city near completely. And his contacts with the Eye had become more fanatical.
That wasn’t even counting the Frogs. He had been lucky, up to this point. Not having to deal with the metahumans around the country up until this point. But now that he did, he had to deal with four? That wasn’t fair. Freaks on his side were one thing. Freaks messing up his profit margins were another.
He was meeting with the witch tonight, and he planned to bring up his concerns. He was tired of being a silent partner in this arrangement. It was time he was heard, and it was time his needs were met.
“What time are they showing, boss?” Jefferson “Crash” Collins asked behind him. A former college All American linebacker from USC, a knee injury ended the enforcer’s pro dreams. He kicked around his neighborhood until the boss saw his potential. He was a terrifying physical specimen. Six-foot-five of pure athletic muscle.
“Eight,” responded Benny “Burn” Benson, his counterpart. Burn was a former leader of a bike gang out of Nevada. He had a penchant for arson, and a violent temper. He made up for not being as physically imposing as Crash by being out of his goddamned mind. He was quicker to stab someone than he was to say hello. His wiry frame also betrayed how strong he was. The man was a terror.
“When they get here, I don’t want either of you talking,” El Bandito instructed. “Last time you embarrassed me. I don’t need that happening again.”
“Sure thing boss,” Burn nodded while Crash grunted.
“Boss,” Gabriella, the current girl acting as his secretary said over the intercom, fear quivering in her voice, “they’re here.”
“Thanks, Gabs,” he responded, worried as to the nature of her fear. She had seen the witch before in the past, and never sounded like that before. “Send them in.”
He straightened the white tie around his burly neck, and quickly glanced down at the small mirror on his desk to ensure his mask was on correctly. He learned long ago that appearance was everything.
Glancing up, he saw Gabriella, a petite, pretty Latina girl open the large, gilded doors to his office. Behind her was the source of her fear. The witch, Kemsit, entered past her, a loose, airy black robe flowing off her dark Egyptian skin. She’d be damn fine if it wasn’t for the air about her. She felt like death when she stood next to you. Her hair was done up in an ornate style that made him think of Cleopatra.
While the witch was unsettling, she wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. What came behind her was.
In walked a man, or what the crime boss assumed was a man. He wore what looked like the armor of a samurai, but it was fashioned out of black glass. From his joints protruded spikes of what appeared to be black bone. Over his face was a Japanese demon mask, smiling a hideous, toothed smile.
Behind the masked man came black clad ninjas, and at their lead was a man from the Pacific Islands, appearing to be Samoan. Garbed in special forces combat gear, he had the scars of many fights carved into his face. He looked over Crash and Burn with a wry smile on his face.
“Welcome to my home,” El Bandito said to them all before turning to Kemsit. “You brought some new friends I see.”
The witch smiled, “El Bandito, allow me to introduce the leader of our Church here on Earth. He is the shadow warrior, the lightslayer, the bringer of the dark and the truth of the universe. He is Naga, Lord of Shadows.”
If El Bandito wasn’t absolutely sure they’d kill him for it, he would have laughed. What a goofy goddamn title. Who was this guy, a Game of Thrones villain?\
All thought of laughing was erased when the mask melted back from the man’s face like liquid metal running down a trough. The face underneath was cracked and mutilate. It was as if his skin had been taped back on by a child, and most of it was dead. In the cracks, puss and blood seemed to swirl, but not leak out. One of his eyes was missing, and the other was completely white.
“I-I-I thought you were the leader of the Church, Kemsit,” Crash blurted out after having an issue finding his words.
The boss looked back at him angrily as the witch explained, “I am but the Gods’ voice on our planet. Naga is their instrument. It is by them working through his hands that this world shall be cleansed.”
“What you have built here,” Naga spoke with a gravely, Japanese-tinted accent. “It is impressive. You are to be commended.”
“Thank you,” the crime lord nodded meekly, for him. “I actually wanted to speak about our arrangement, I-”
“That is why I am here as well,” Naga cut him off. “You have performed admirably to this point. But I am afraid I must alter our agreement.”
“Now hold on,” Burn lost his temper and moved towards them. “We’ve been altering our agreement ever since-”
In a flash, the Samoan was in front of Burn, and leveled him with a judo throw. Before the bodyguard could retaliate by doing something stupid, as he often did, El Bandito motioned for Crash to reign him in.
“My apologies,” Naga moved his Samoan warrior back. “Koga is very protective. As my personal assassin, he does not appreciate aggressive moves in my presence. I would also recommend the men you have waiting in the secret room behind that bookcase do not come out. I would hate to have to bloody your carpets.”
“Uh-of course,” the boss nodded. “You said you have some new orders for us?”
“Indeed,” Naga smiled a hideous smile. “Recent...events have made it necessary to speed up our efforts. We need you to start doing more than shipment runs. There are some strategic locations we need some of your men to hit. The first one is tomorrow night.”
One of the ninjas approached the boss’s desk and slid a file over to him. He opened it, and skimmed the contents, “An IDRG shipment? But why? Doesn’t seem like your normal MO.”
“The details of why are unimportant,” Naga snapped. “You will carry out the mission. Bring us what is in the truck.”
With that, the Eye contingent left.
“Boys,” El Bandito said to his bodyguards, “I think it’s time we start looking for the exit ramp of this crazy highway. Find out what’s on this truck. And see how much it’s worth. I’m tired of playing second fiddle.”
**********
IDRG Pyramid
San Maria, CaliforniaIntegrated Dimensional Research Group Director Dyer stood and oversaw the loading of the specimens onto the truck. He had put this day off for a while now, but he knew the day would come eventually. The Eye was never far behind them. The fact that he had gotten this far with his work was a miracle, if he was being honest.
“Director,” one of the researchers said, coming up beside the man, “he’s been sedated. Should be asleep until after transport in a few days. The rest of the cargo is secured. Shall we move the containment unit on?”
The director nodded to his subordinate, and the containment unit, guarded by three of their security drones was moved into position to be loaded onto the truck. As the cylindrical container was moved by him, he caught a glimpse of the fur-covered eyelid of the specimen, fluttering and full of dreams.
At least the Frogs wouldn’t be the only success. They’d be able to continue the work elsewhere.
Captain Uni,
Eddie Brock,
Master Bruce,
Sep,
Cyberlad
