Character Personality: Jeremiah is an amiable, kind man raised by good, Christian parents in New England. While he spends his life tracking and hunting demons, you'd never know it by the way he acts. Quick with a smile or a joke, he does not let his quest burden him.
Uniform/costume: Jeremiah wears the tattered, dirty, and faded blue trench coat he wore as a Union army member during the war over a simple set of cowboy duds. He wears a leather cowboy hat made of the hide of some unknown beast that is tougher than any armor. He keeps a bandana tied around his neck, and his guns hang from holsters on his hip. He carries in his pack all manner of weapons to fight the supernatural.
Origin Info/Details:
Jeremiah's story began not with him, or his parents, but with his grandfather. Ichabod Crane is a name most knew from stories and legends passed down through the generations of America. Most believed Washington Irving made the man up, and that Sleepy Hollow was nothing more than a bedtime story. They would have been wrong. Ichabod was real, as was the story of Sleepy Hollow. While Ichabod, the frightful, over-imaginative man that he was, was chased out of Sleepy Hollow by a man dressed as the Headless Horseman.
That's not where his story ended.
Ichabod, ashamed, returned to the town after realizing he had been duped. What he found was not the derisive laughter he expected, but the butchered bodies of the townsfolk. When his rival in love had used the story of the Headless Horseman to drive Crane off, the man angered the true spirits that haunted Sleepy Hollow, who sought to teach the people a lesson.
Ichabod was shaken to the core by what he saw. This led him to throwing himself head first into study of the occult and the supernatural. He discovered America was full of supernatural threats that most were complete oblivious to. From that day on, he made it his goal to purify the country of the supernatural threats it contained.
Jeremiah was the third hunter in the Crane line. His father, Washington, and grandfather raised him to be the best of them, and he loved both men dearly. The three men and Jeremiah's mother Anne lived in Maine, near the city now known as Lost Haven. New England was a hotbed of supernatural activity. It was here where Jeremiah learned his family trade, protecting the normal civilians of America from threats they could not comprehend.
When the American Civil War broke out, Jeremiah signed up for the Union Army. Not only because he believed in what the army stood for and the freedom of all men, but because he knew that the blood of the battlefield would awaken and draw out insidious threats.
It was during the war that Jeremiah realized his crusade was more than just his family's. He found that many hunters existed, and had existed for centuries. It was also during the war that he found that he was marked. After mortally wounding a demon feeding off the dying and the wounded on the Antietam battlefield, Crane was told that his bloodline would bring about the fall of man and the time of demons. He would be the instrument of the fall of man.
Crane didn't know whether he could trust the demon, but he now has doubt in the back of his mind. After the war, he now travelled the country, cleansing it of the monsters that feed off it.
Hero Type: Normal with shades of Mystic
Power Level: Street level
Powers: Jeremiah has a basic understanding of the mystic arts, and can perform simple spells. Most of his strategy, however, revolved around his combat skills. He was a crack shot with any firearm, but he preferred his Colt revolvers. He was also a cable and trained hand-to-hand combatant.
Attributes (Select one at each category):
Height: 6'1" Weight: 200lbs Strength Level: Normal human Speed/Reaction Timing Level: Normal human Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: Normal human Agility: Normal human Intelligence: Average Fighting Skill: Trained (hand-to-hand)/Mastered (firearms) Resources: Average
Weaknesses: He's a normal human, so plentiful
Supporting Characters:
Isaac Freeman: A former slave and Jeremiah's best friend. The two fought together in the war, and after seeing Crane kill a demon on the battlefield, Isaac asked to join his crusade. He is now a fellow hunter. The strong, silent type, Isaac is one of the most intelligent people Jeremiah has ever met.
Major John Andre: A former Redcoat spymaster during the Revolutionary War, Andre was captured and hung by the Continental Army. His spirit did not pass into the next life, however. He wandered New England, finally setting in the woods around Sleepy Hollow. He and Jeremiah met when the young hunter came to the town that made his family famous. Andre now can spy on the spirit world and assist Crane.
Clara and Mozart snaked their way through the war-torn high tech headquarters of the Integrated Dimensional Research Group. They had escaped from this very building months ago, but then it was a pristine, sterile white environment. Now it was something out of a horror film. The group's security robots were lying in pieces as if wild animals had torn into them. Along with their scattered remains were a few of the human scientists, their blood was smeared across the walls, a sign of them trying in vain to get away from the Eye's brutal assault.
"This is disgusting," Clara shook her head as they traversed the grisly scene.
Mozart agreed, but stayed silent. The Church of the All-Seeing Eye had always seemed to have an issue with the IDRG, but this was more than an issue. This was unrelenting hate. The work of animals and monsters, not of men. While he and his siblings were no more human than a normal frog, there was something otherworldly entirely about the men and women who followed the Church. The Witch was certainly the worst of the bunch, but even the rank and file members gave off some serious bad mojo.
After a while, the siblings came to the office of the director of the IDRG. Dyer was a mysterious man. The frogs rarely saw him, even when they were captives here. In the press, Dyer gives off an air of paternal benevolence. That was a show, of course. What the frogs had seen from the man was cold and calculating. He was driven. He had a goal. It was undefined to them, but he was willing to sacrifice anything to achieve it.
His office door was blown out, and three dead Eye commandos laid dead at the entrance. Art could hear people talking from inside of the office.
"You came all this way...just to fail again," a deep, menacing, and slightly alien voice said. Art peered in to see what he thought was a corpse wrapped in shadow. The man's face was cracked and caked with dried blood. His garb looked like the ninjas Art had seen in depictions of feudal Japan, but it almost looked like it was an organic wrap more than cloth. Almost like he was dressed in a recently skinned hide of some terrible monster. "I was impressed. But now, I'm just disappointed you made it this easy again. And in coming to this reality you've given us the key to the multiverse. Soon we will be all."
"And what happens when you're done consuming?" Dyer spat back. "What happens when there's nothing left to eat."
"Then we will be born anew...only to be consumed again."
With that, the shadow warrior raised his hand. The living cloth that covered him slid up and over his skin like the most grotesque snake Art had ever seen, before forming itself into a blade. Before he could swing it down onto the IDRG director, however, it was deflected away by a toss of Art's staff. The frog then rushed at the man in black, and leapt over a slash of his weapon. The frog landed by his thrown bo and picked it up, ready for another attack.
"Ah, I was wondering if I'd see you here," the decaying man smiled a hideous smile. "Dyer's slaves. Well, the ones that were meant to be slaves."
Clara, who had taken up a position on the man's other flank, snarled, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Ah, so you don't know?" he chuckled. While he did not drop his guard, he didn't look very worried about the two of them either. He radiated with a dark energy the likes neither of them had ever seen before. "Dyer meant for you to be part of his army to defeat me. But you were a bad batch. Too much freewill. Man is corruptible of course. It's why the good director here is powerless against me. But nature...nature is its own force. Wild, passionate, and hungry. That is why my priestess and I cannot dominate your minds. It's why you are able to stand against the might and knowledge of the great devourers while so few can."
Clara and Mozart exchanged a glance. Art knew it was foolish to believe someone who was clearly so evil, but this was the first real explanation for why the frogs existed in the first place. Still, there was almost assuredly more to the story. There had to be, the eldest frog thought.
"You as sick of this guy as I am?" he asked his sister.
She sighed, "You have no idea."
With that, the two frogs descended on their new enemy. The two siblings may have been oil and water when it came to making decisions, but when the fighting started they were perfectly in sync. They flowed over and around one another, with Clara slashing with her war fans and Mozart swinging his bo staff to land haymakers. The only problem was the man moved like the shadow he resembled. His body contorted unnaturally, almost if the living shroud around him bent his body where it needed to be. They could hear the cracks of his bones as they contorted around the frogs' strikes.
Before he was backed into a corner, he went on the counter attack. He landed blow after blow, spinning at them like a whirlwind of blades. Art and Clara were soon on the ground in front of the large window that overlooked San Maria, with the demon looming over them. Art felt the pain seeping into his nervous system, and saw his blood on the man's fists.
The shadow looked back at Dyer, "A shame. Even your weapons are disappointing. No matter. I'll dispose of them for you."
"How about I dispose of all of us?" Dyer said through gritted teeth before pressing a button on his belt.
A momentary look of amused disgust came over the shadow's face before Dyer exploded, engulfing the room in flame and blowing the huge window out behind the frogs.
The last thing Art remembered before blacking out was the sensation of freefalling towards the street below.
Face to face, Daredevil spits a warning: "Careful, they've got really special guns", cracking the door, kicking it open and preemptively readying a billy club for a toss!
"Don't they always?" Captain America responded to the vigilante. He didn't know who went and told Daredevil to head this way, but he was glad that person did. Daredevil was probably the best fighter that didn't have superpowers that Steve had ever seen. The Man Without Fear even managed to best the super soldier one or two times in the past in sparring matches. Cap was definitely happy to have his help.
"I'm glad we managed to secure this position," Woo said to the two heroes, "but we need to secure the rest of the island. And we're not going to do that standing around here."
He was right, of course. They weren't going to secure the other safehouses without a plan. Cap wondered where Stark was. He'd be a huge help dealing with this, as he could move through the city at a quicker pace than Cap or Daredevil could.
"I hate to say this, but I think we're gonna have to split up if we want to secure all the safehouses," Cap theorized as he searched the landscape for a vehicle. He say a motorbike laying on its side and figured it would have to do. He walked over and hotwired it to start it up, "Coulson, you'll be our eyes in the skies. Call out locations for Daredevil and I to hit."
The Quinjet Captain America was riding in flew fast and low towards the capital of the island as it approached, but Cap could already see the destruction the attackers had wrought. Smoke billowed into the night sky, and explosions continued to rock the city. Whoever these people were, they meant business. He thanked God the Quinjets were as fast as they were, or there was no chance he would have made it here in time.
According to Agent Jimmy Woo, the man in charge in Kingston, the attackers were nearly through the safehouses' defenses, and the SHIELD tech would be in their hands. Woo, who had been trying to mount a defense in his own Quinjet, had been shot down minutes ago. He was alive, but who knew how long that would last.
"Iron Man, this is Cap," he said as his transport sped towards where Woo had crashed. "I'm headed to rescue the island's SHIELD head. Will try and establish a base of operations there we can work from to secure the rest of the island."
The Quinjet swept over the scene of Woo's crash, with his downed fighter being peppered by minigun fire. Cap yelled to the pilot, "Swing around for another pass! But slow down, and keep low!"
The pilot signaled an affirmative, and swung the aircraft around. Cap, meanwhile, opened one of the side entrance hatches and prepared himself. This was definitely going to hurt, but it was the only way to take out that gun quickly. As the Quinjet approached the van, he leapt out of the hatch at the perfect time. He aimed the shield toward the minigun, and curled up in a ball behind it. He flew like a canon ball through the air, before slamming into the van. The shield crunched into the minigun, shattering it. The vibranium caught most of his momentum, but he felt his shoulder pop slightly. It wouldn't keep him out of this fight, but it would hurt in the morning.
He got up and rotated it around to loosen it, before turning and seeing Woo.
"Agent Woo is secure, and one of the attack vans is down," he said into his comm. "Lets take the fight to these guys."
As the emerging chaos in Boston began to take up the majority of everyone's attention, SHIELD had another problem on their hands that began to manifest itself. Across the city in the Caribbean island, several safehouses protecting both precious classified data and several weapons under research and development under local SHIELD authorities were inexplicably found to be under attack at the same time. The safehouses were bombarded with an armored van at each point, all housing a portable mini-gun operated by a masked armored militant carrying out orders. While SHIELD agents filed out and opened fire in defense of their respective base, they were quickly and brutally mowed down in a hail of heavy artillery.
Only one agent remained, surveying the coordinated attack from a safe distance. The agent's name was Jimmy Woo, a high-ranking spy that reported directly to Nick Fury, on assignment for an unrelated matter entirely that would now have to wait.
"CODE ELEVEN-THIRTY-THREE! I REPEAT, CODE ELEVEN-THIRTY-THREE!", Woo exclaimed, firing up his own personal Quinjet to take to the skies. "THIS IS WOO! HOSTILES ARE MOVING IN FAST! WE NEED ASSISTANCE IN KINGSTON! TAKING CASUALTIES... THERE'S TOO MANY OF THEM!"
Woo took the reigns of the Quinjet and set off to meet the attackers himself, buying just enough time for any available back-up to arrive. Though in earnest, the seasoned agent didn't see how this was going to end in any way other than the loss of the safehouses
CRISIS: THE CARIBBEAN
VILLAIN ATTACK: UNKNOWN
Threat Level: 6 Minor Threats:
Highly advanced SHIELD weaponry put into the wrong hands
Rank-and-file militants ready to protect the main extraction van
Captain America strolled into the park near his house in his full regalia. He had been called in the middle of dinner by Fury, who told him about the developing situations in Boston and Kingston. While he would have loved to take the fight to the Brotherhood, carrying an indestructible metal shield into a fight with a man who can manipulate metal. Even Steve wasn't that bullheaded for a good fight. Someone else would have to take care of that.
Instead, he would be on his way to Kingston to take care of the attacks on SHIELD installations.
Suddenly, from above him, the wind kicked up. He shielded his eyes as the landing Quinjet began to kick up dust and leaves. It landed softly as bystanders looked on with mouths agape. From inside, Coulson opened the door and motioned for Cap to get in, "Come on! We'll brief you more on the way!"
Cap hopped onto the craft and grabbed a seat beside the agent. Coulson went over the situation. SHIELD was using Kingston as a R&D lab for new, anti-metahuman weaponry. How this was discovered by the perpetrators was unknown, but that didn't matter now. The weapons were going to be in their hands soon, and they needed to make sure they did not make it off that island.
"Would have been nice if Fury let us know about that," Steve shot Coulson a look. "I don't like when he keeps secrets from us."
"I don't disagree," Coulson shrugged. "But you know him. Compartmentalization. Can't give away all the information if you don't know it all."
"Yea," Steve responded calmly, "but someone still got the information anyway."
Steve thought about the mission for a few seconds, realizing the split situation the heroes were now in. He thought of who would be useful in Kingston, and one name definitely came to mind. He pulled out his Avengers comm and hailed, "Iron Man, this is Captain America. I'm headed to Kingston. Could you some help if you don't have something better to do."
An intense, humid heat clung close to the city. It had rolled in that morning, making an awful, miserable commute for everyone on their bikes. Sweat poured off people as they made their way around the city on errands, or to dinner that night. Normally, San Maria was hailed as one of the most climatically comfortable cities in the country, but this heat was different. It was the topic of conversation of everyone that day.
It was as if the air itself was trying to pound people into the pavement. In other parts of the state, the forests were burning thanks to the extreme heat, and even in San Maria the air smelled faintly of smoke. It was as if the city was on the edge of becoming hell on Earth.
Little did the people idly chatting about the heat know, that’s exactly what it was about to become.
The factions that were about to turn a cold war into a bloody one were on the board. The Church of the All-Seeing and and the Integrated Dimensional Research Group knew each other well, though the Frogs had no idea why the two were at odds. The Bayside Bandits waited in the wings, with the Eye believing the gang was solidly under their control. Instead, El Bandito and his men were ready to break free from the cult’s iron fists, violently if need be.
Then there were the Frogs, blind to their own purpose, caught in the maelstrom of their new world. They were the few that would stand for justice in a melee of those clawing for their own power and destiny. The question would be if their conviction would be enough.
**********
IDRG Pyramid San Maria, California Now
Director Dyer paced about his office. Below, in the bowels of the building’s garage, the truck carrying some of the most important specimens he had ever created was getting ready to hit the road to a secure location outside the city. He hated doing this, but it was necessary. The Eye was here. Not only were they in San Maria, their leaders were here. It meant they had found the location on this world. It meant that before long, they would attempt to summon their gods to consume the beings of this universe.
He was not going to let that happen. Not after all this time searching. The contents of that truck were the only thing that would stand against the ones that dwell between universes, should the need arise. At least, the contents were what they still had under their control.
The Frogs were out there as well. Dyer had ramped down the attempts to capture them, at this point. The Frogs were fighting the Eye. That’s all that mattered. Maybe having them outside the IDRG’s control would come in handy down the line. They were a convenient distraction to draw the Church’s gaze from the scientists.
“Director,” the voice of the caravan leader came through his intercom, “we’re ready to move out.”
“Proceed,” he responded while he peered out of the bay cities.
He and his people had worked and searched so long for a home. When they came here they had nothing but their scientific knowledge, and they used that to build their empire here, in this bastion of scientific research. Silicon Valley was seemingly made for people like them. Dyer had hoped they would have finished their work before the Eye showed up. That way they would have been prepared to repulse them.
Now he was reduced to desperate actions to ensure their plan wasn’t completely destroyed.
Once the trucks were on their way, he sat down at his desk and allowed himself to relax. They were still manufacturing the serum in the lab, so there would be more tests even after this. But the last living success story was on that truck. It was going to be the first in an army, once they could locate the gene that made the mutations stable. After that, he would save this planet.
Dyer drifted off into his own thoughts, but was roused after nearly half an hour as alarms began to blare through the pyramid. He fumbled to the intercom, “What the hell is going on!?”
“Sir!” his chief of security responded. “The caravan was attacked moments ago, and we have reports of Eye agents inside the building. I’m sending a team to you.”
“Understood,” Dyer composed himself and walked over to his desk. He punched a code into the safe below his desk, which swung open to reveal a gleaming, silver gun. It was unlike anything on Earth, and when he powered it up it hummed and began to glow with a red energy.
He had killed the agents of the devourers before.
He was prepared to do it again.
**********
Moments Ago
El Bandito popped the magazine out of his AK-47 and checked the ammo inside for the third time. It was a nervous tick he had developed years ago when his first boss on the streets had handed him his first piece. He had never felt so powerful, yet so nervous. Now he had to do it at least three times. He wasn’t nervous anymore. Now it was just a habit. Maybe he considered it a good luck charm. He wasn’t sure.
Still, he felt something in the back of his mind this night. Maybe he was nervous on a job for the first time in a long time. The leader of the Bayside Bandits had good reason to be. Tonight he’d be declaring war on a insane, black magic cult. He had gone up against a lot of different rivals before, but the Eye were unlike anything he’d seen before.
Still, they were a threat. A real threat. Maybe it was a dormant form of patriotism or love for his cities, but he didn’t want this monsters to destroy the place he built his empire. He might lose this fight, but he was gonna fight nonetheless.
“Boss,” Burn’s voice came over the walky talky, “the trucks are almost here.”
“Okay, is everyone in position?” the boss responded.
“Yea, jeffe,” Crash gave him the affirmative. “We’re ready to move on Burn’s mark.”
“Oh, you’ll see my mark,” the pyromaniac chuckled.
El Bandito nodded to the two men that were in the car with him. They were loyal soldiers, and he gave them the thrill of their lifetime by bringing with him as his personal guns tonight. Crash was leading the main strike team, and Burn was in charge of demolitions, as he always was.
Suddenly, the road exploded in front of a convoy of four trucks as they traveled down a sparsely used road on the outskirts of San Maria. Asphalt flew through the air, peppering El Bandito’s car with pebbles. A light pole slammed down onto the lead truck, crunching the cab like a beer can.
“That boy is not subtle,” the boss muttered before yelling to his men, “Move in!”
That’s when the firefight started.
**********
Now
Mozart moved silently through the alleys of downtown San Maria, not exactly sure what he was looking for. He and his siblings had just felt something off in the air, so they went out on patrol. Angela had an exam for one of her summer classes tomorrow, so they were on their own without a pair of eyes to guide them to trouble.
Behind him, he could feel Clara’s apprehension.
“What’s wrong, sis?” he asked while he continued to slink forward.
“You mean other than everything?” she asked sarcastically, causing him to chuckle. “Just everything, Art. We all felt something tonight. Something that made us come out on patrol. That doesn’t strike you as odd? What if it was some weird magic from the Eye? Or something embedded in us by IDRG?”
“The thought’s crossed my mind,” he admitted. “We don’t know where we came from. We don’t know why we’re here. Maybe it’s time to start trying to find that out.”
Clara’s obsession with where they came from had been palpable for months. Maybe it was her scientifically-inclined mind, but according to her it was impossible for us to exist. She wanted to know how we were created, as well as why. Art let her ponder it, but he hadn’t cared all that much up until recently. They existed. They knew they had to protect this city. That was enough for him.
At least it had been.
The more Clara prodded, the more he came to her line of thinking. They probably needed to find out why they really were here if they were going to finish this fight. It was time to start pulling on that string.
Before he could get deeper into the conversation with her, an explosion rang out. The two looked at one another with surprise in their eyes. Art eventually said, “I think that came from the IDRG Pyramid.”
“We need to check it out,” she said.
“Go without us,” Ludwig said from another part of the city. “We just registered shots fired near the industrial district. Lots of shots fired.”
“It sounds like a warzone over here!” Bach interjected.
“Okay, you two be careful, we’ll take care of IDRG.”
Outside the IDRG Pyramid
Smoke billowed from the front entrance of the Integrated Dimensional Research Group headquarters as Mozart and his sister Clara overlooked the scene. Out front, IDRG robots and human security guards laid destroyed or dead, and a group of footsoldiers from the Church of the All-Seeing Eye stood guard out front. While they were dressed like SWAT or Black Ops operatives, the Frogs knew they were even more dangerous. Fanatics always were. The Eye believed what they were doing would bring about the end of our world, and that their monstrous gods would reward them for giving the devourers access to their reality.
"Oh terrific," Clara deadpanned. "I was hoping to fight some doomsday cultists tonight."
Art studied the scene carefully. This was all wrong.
"This...this is open warfare," he shook his head at the wonton destruction. "The Eye is either getting desperate or something's changed significantly. They had been working in the shadows. Even when they released the beast in the sewers it was hidden. But this is going to be impossible to hide."
"Maybe they've decided hiding wasn't getting the job done," Clara added.
It was certainly a sobering thought. The cult had powers at their disposal. Terrible powers. If they were to unleash them fully upon the city, a lot of people were going to die.
"Well, let's go ask them what they're thinking," Art smiled and vaulted off the fire escape they were perched on.
He landed deftly, transferring his momentum into a roll. As his feet came around and hit the ground, he sprung off them into a leap. He landed in the middle of the Eye soldiers, who were shocked at the appearance of the giant frog. Art swung his bo staff in an arc, shattering the helmet of the closest and sending him crashing to the ground. One of the others went for his gun, but Mozart knocked it away with a flick of his long, quick tongue, before tossing the man at one of his comrades. Both crumpled to the ground in a heap. The fourth and final soldier almost managed to get a shot off at the frog, but instead received a gash across the back of his hand from Clara's war fans, before she knocked the man out cold.
"You could have warned me you were just going to jump into the middle of them," she said as the two of them entered the place where they were created, side-by-side.
"Yea, but that's a lot less fun," he shrugged before looking around. He still had nightmares about this place. About what they had put him and his siblings through. It felt strange to be back, especially in the sense that he was now here to protect it. Being a hero was weird. He looked back at his sister, "Welcome home, sis. Let's find out what the hell is going on."
**********
San Maria Docks
The flames surrounded Ludwig as he barreled down the street towards the site of the explosion. The IDRG truck they had been track had been ambushed moments ago. Ludwig assumed it was by the Eye, but this is more audacious than they've ever been before. Above him, Bach ran on the rooftops. It was a strategy the two of them had perfected over the past months. Ludwig's massive, imposing frame would draw the attention of their enemies, while Bach would sneak around them. It was effective, if not all that creative.
At the center of the flaming street, he found the IDRG caravan in disarray. Two of the trucks were on their side, and a third had crashed into a warehouse. Gun fire was peppering the cabs of the trucks, trying to kill whoever was driving them. Ludwig had no love for the IDRG, but no one deserved to die like that. He hated firearms. Found them to be the supreme coward's weapon.
He took off towards the gunfire. Instead of finding soldiers of the Eye, he found the Bayside Bandits. The Frogs had discovered they were working with the Eye, but he was surprised to find them without a handler from the cult.
"What are you mooks waiting for!?" a burly man in a luchador mask yelled at the other men. "Shoot the freak!"
Before they could open fire, however, Bach swung down with his tongue off a lightpole and bowled into the men with the guns. They were sprawled across the ground, and the man in the mask ran towards the center of the caravan.
"That was eas-" before Bach could finish, he was hit across the back by a baseball bat.
The weapon was then swung at Ludwig, who caught it before it could strike him across the face. He snarled at the man holding it, who was somehow almost as large as the mutant frog. He was strong. Strong enough to make that hurt, which normal humans hadn't been able to do up until now. The frog asked, "Who the hell are you?"
"Name's Crash," the big, muscular human responded with a smile. "You're messin' up my boss's plan."
"Yea, well, your boss is an a-hole," Lud answered as he ripped the bat from the thug's hands and tossed it aside. He threw a combination of punches towards the man, which he dodged with surprising speed, before delivering an uppercut to Ludwig. The punch stung a bit, and caught the big frog by surprise. He had never seen someone fight like this. The fact that he was a normal human was even more surprising. "You're gonna pay for that."
"I don't think so," he smirked.
"Bro! Look out!" a groggy Bach called to his sibling.
Ludwig looked up to see one of the IDRG trucks barreling towards him, driven by the masked man. He managed to turn his back, which was protected by a thick, protective hide, as the truck clipped him. It sent a shot of pain through his body, but he knew nothing serious was hurt. Still, he was unable to do anything as Crash climbed into the back of the truck. As he did, Ludwig saw that the truck was loaded with some mysterious canisters, and one very large containment unity.
The truck sped away, and the two frogs sat and tended to their aches.
"Well, that didn't go well," Bach spat.
"No, it didn't. Come on. Let's get home. Art and Clara are probably done by now."