El_Zilcho

That works. If I can take a look at one room with the basic idea I think I can take inspiration from that.

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I have a "capitol" pillar design and lighting scheme in mind. I'll whip up a room for you to look at, see if you like where it's going with general theme. I'd rather try for the more regal opportunity if we can, but it shouldn't be too hard, esp. with raid pathing relaxed to where we can get really creative with base items.

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Sounds like a good idea. I'll play with it this weekend. We can call it "Undsiclosed Location".

A question for everyone. I had a thought today about the base design. Based on the trend that seems to be occuring of creating SG toons with government themed names it gave me a concept for the base, but before I change it wanted to get input from the peanut gallery. I was thinking going more tech or gray to make it look more like a continuity of government bunker like the decomissioned Greenbriar facility for Congress. The only reason I went arcane with the base was I had gone tech with the last one I did. But now that I have a concept I thought I'd run it by everyone.

I like Line Item or Canadian Ambassador.

I'm up for a synapse run on Saturday and I'm all for an earlier start time too.

yay!

I am signed in. I'm dpaquet1.

I went around last night collecting beacons for the base so we can make use of teleporters when the generator gets installed. I got all the city zones up to IP and tonight I'll be working on the hazard zones.

Turg, I have a GP account for another SG. Do i have to reapply for this one?

That sounds like a good idea. I think we should make that happen.

You'll have to share the knowledge with me Turg.

Speaking of FF, I got invited to diner tonight so I'm not 100% sure I'll make it by the start time. But I'll be on some time tonight.

Looks good Turg.

I would just like to add that the colors make Cage's costume look pretty bad [censored].

Its suprisingly easy with a smaller team. I did it in a little over 3 hours with a three man team a few weeks ago.

Also I'm in for Friday too. I want to lvl up my Dark defender a little for Posi (she sould use an SG invite too).

Count me in for Posi on Saturday. I'm not sure yet if I'll be bringing my scraper, blaster or defender.

3pm should be fine, though if anyone else is up for it I'd kinda like to do it a little earlier, like 1ish.

ok, ok I'll bite.

Star Strider Forces Registry
Name: Atomantium
Global Contact: @Atomantium
Level of Classification:50
Origin: Technology
Super Rank & Super Group: member, League of Champions

I just respected out of Nova and tried my new human form last night. I took your suggestions on the human form build and my PB is fantastic. Thanks for the guide. It was a lot of help. He was feeling a little gimped because I screwed up the slotting but the suggestions in your guide cleared that right up. Many thanks again Plasma.

The board walk on Talos Island was usually a pretty fun place, one of the few in Paragon City. That is, when it’s not being overrun by gangs or a target for hostage seeking paramilitary groups. But today none of Paragon’s dangers were present and it was a pretty nice day to boot. A little bit of a breeze was blowing and there was not a single cloud in the sky.

On this day, Joanna Spencer was strolling the boardwalk on one of her very rare and thus very precious days off. When the sun started to go down, Jo decided to head back home. Her walk to the tram took her past the Paragon Police Department precinct office in Talos. As she approached she noted that the street was quiet. In fact the only activity on the street was a trio of vans parked on the corner opposite the precinct. Jo could have just as easily walked around the other side of the Talos hill and avoided the suspicious vehicles. But, as always, her curiosity got the better of her and she started toward the mystery vehicles.

The closer she Jo got to the vans and the police station the more things seemed out of place. She occasionally heard fait bursts come from the station house. Jo stood across the street from the parked vans. Jo thought she could barely make out silhouettes in the drivers seat through the heavily tinted glass, but she couldn’t tell.

Behind her she heard a group of very loud college age young people approaching. She had seen them on the board walk, one of they guys had tried to lay his best rap on her. I wonder if he still would have taken his shot if he knew I was really 10 years older than I look? She wondered at the time. But now Jo figured they were heading back home or to campus to continue the party. As the group walked past Jo was shaken from her curious observations and decided she would continue on her way home as well since she was due to met up with Peter in a few hours for dinner after his patrol.

However, no sooner had she turned her back to the police station than an explosion ripped through the second floor. Fire belched out of the second story windows and pieces of debris and glass were ejected from the building. Instinctively Jo dropped to the ground, face down and covered up to protect her self from the hail of shrapnel. The group of college kids was not so wise and instead turned to see the explosion. A few of them were hit in the face by flying pieces of glass.
Her ears still ringing Jo went to pull her self up to help the injured college kids. But she and the others were quickly confronted by three men carrying rifles and shouting. Jo instantly recognized the uniforms worn by the shrouded men. They were Council commandos.

When it became clear that Jo and the others couldn’t understand what the soldiers were saying they fired several rounds at he ground and gestured back toward the vans. One of the soldiers grabbed Joanna by the arm and physically dragged her to the van that was last in line. No sooner was she tossed inside than the group of partiers was thrown in the van with her. One of the guys in the group was petrified. He simply couldn’t move from sheer terror. Standing outside the tailgate, two of the soldiers were trying to force him in to the van. Finally frustrated by the situation, one of the Council solders slammed the stock of his rifle into the back of the young man’s head. The young man fell limp and was shoved into the rear of the van with the rest of the group followed by three commandos.

The vans screamed down the streets of Talos. After a few minutes of driving, Jo heard the metallic clank as vans drove onto a metal ramp. Then they quickly came to a stop. The rear windows were painted over and the cargo area was sealed off from the cab except for a small window covered by a metal grate. Jo couldn’t see where they had gone, but surmised they were headed to Striga Island, she figured that they had driven onto a ferry in Talos. Outside Jo heard the muffled sounds of slamming doors and muted footsteps. Some of the footsteps got closer.

The cargo doors swung open and light flooded into the dark cabin. Silhouetted against the bright light was a council soldier. The soldier gestured off to his left and three more commandos stepped into view, rifles at the ready. The three commandos in the van disembarked and were replaced by the three new ones.

“You are now prisoners of the Council. You will be released when Paragon City meets our demands and releases Council soldiers in their custody. Until that time you will be held at our facility. If you cooperate you will not be harmed. If you resist us in any way, punishment will be swift and severe. That is your only warning.” The soldier at the cargo door remarked. His tone was stern but not hostile. Most of the other hostages had regained their composure. But the one young man that the commandos had to knock out had regained consciousness and was shaking uncontrollably. His friends had decided to distance them selves from him as much as possible.

The group sat in total silence. After a long while, the frightened young man started muttering to himself. Jo couldn’t make out his words; she was becoming increasingly concerned about him. He was terrified and not in control of his actions. His survival instinct was overwhelming him. She new that the only thing on his mind was escaping. That posed a problem, he could get himself or someone else killed.

Jo was startled when one of the solders shouted; “SHUT UP!” he had leaned down to shout right in the young mans face.
For a moment the young man was quiet again. But it didn’t last long. Soon he was muttering again. Jo moved closer to him and hooked her arm in his. She could finally hear what he was saying. He was repeating the Hail May over and over again in Latin. His shaking subsided but only slightly.

Jo tried to calm him down. “Shhh, it’s going to be ok. You need to calm down. They won’t hurt us if–” Jo was cut short by a back hand from one of the commandos.

Jo tasted the blood in her mouth. Before she could spit on the man that struck her, her mouth was covered with duct tape and her hands bound with flex cuffs behind her back. Later on, when the same commando tried to knock out the frightened young man again with the butt of his rifle, Jo kicked the back of the soldier’s right knee sending him to the ground. After that she spent the rest of the trip with her legs bound as well.

The trip was long. The group spent an unbearable amount of time in the hot cramped space before they finally arrived at their destination. The ferry had docked somewhere and the vans pulled off and drove the rest of the way.

When the doors opened again the group of captives was greeted by a night sky that was overshadowed by powerful flood lights shining down on the convoy. In front of Jo was a massive wall lined with soldiers and gun turrets. As the group was guided at gunpoint into a near by bunker, Jo looked off to her right to see a volcano, or more accurately, the Council’s volcano. At least I know where I am , she thought.

Back in Steel Canyon, Pete had returned to ChemShield. He had removed his armor and had been waiting to for about a half hour before he decided to try and call Joanna. No answer on her cell or at her home. Wilson waited another 30 minutes before trying again, still nothing. If Paragon were any other town, he might not have been worried. But in a city where literally every citizen who had lived there for any length of time was touched by some criminal activity, the chances were good that the dice had finally rolled Jo’s number.

Wilson went to the monitoring station and switched on the tracker in Joanna’s cell phone. It wasn’t giving a signal, that meant either she (the phone) was out of range, the phone was damaged, or the signal was being blocked. Wilson checked the police wire for anything that might look significant. One immediately jumped out at him.

Paragon City Policy Department Report
Incident Location: Paragon City Police Precinct, Talos Island

Incident date: XX/XX/XX

Incident time: XX:XX

Description: Attack on Paragon City Police Station believed perpetrated by Council. At approx XX:XXpm a team of commandos stormed the PPD station on Talos…

After the initial attack the perpetrators split into two teams, with the second heading to the holding cells on the second floor…

The commandos freed a mid-level Council officer named Leonard Buchner, being held in the Talos jail while awaiting transfer…

…destroyed the second floor jail to cover their escape. Shortly after the attack the Paragon City government received demands to release several ranking Council officers being held in exchange for 7 hostages being held by the Council…

Wilson stopped there. He quickly accessed the PPD’s traffic camera feed that Tobias had hacked a number of months ago. On the video feed he saw Jo being captured by the Council commandos. Pete didn’t waste any time and suited up.

Pete made his way with all possible haste toward Striga Island. He knew that the Council could take the hostages to any one of their hidey holes hidden around the city. But after going to all the trouble, they probably didn’t want to risk getting caught with their pants down when Longbow or the Police figured out where they were. So the Council probably took their prisoners to as secure a location as possible. There was no spot more heavily defended than their base on Striga.

On Striga, Joanna was trying to get her flex cuffs off from around her wrists. The guards had thrown her in a cell that was nothing more than a rectangular concrete room with a heavy steel door. No bed, no sink, no toilet. The guards had cut the restraints around her ankles so she could walk, and removed the tape from her mouth. But they had neglected (either intentionally or not) to remove the cuffs from around her wrists. She was standing at the door franticly trying to use the edge of the tiny window in the door to slice off them off. Her fingers had started to turn purple, almost matching the color of her finger nail polish. Finally, the cuffs broke and the sensation started to return to her hands.

“Oh thank God.” She sighed in relief.

Her guard pounded on the door. “NO TALKING!” he shouted.
Jo sat on the floor and did two things. First she regretted wearing shorts, since the concrete floor was unbearably cold. But how could you have known this would happen though , she consoled her self. Second she started to look around the room for anything that might help her get out. Above the door was a close circuit camera that was recessed into the wall. In the far corner of the room there was a mall grate, about 3 by 6 inches. For some reason the Council had decided that the top half of the room should be painted green. The door was a single piece of heavy steel that opened outward, so the hinges were on the outside. It was a simple but effective design. Unless you had superpowers you weren’t getting out. Even then, getting out was pretty unlikely without help.

Across the hall, Jo heard the doors to one of the cells creaking open. She stood up to pear through the tiny view slot. Across from her cell she saw the frightened young man that she had tried to console in the van. He was in the corner of his cell, as a soldier entered holding what looked like food and a blanket. When the Council guard knelt to set down the items the young man sprang up from the floor and tackled the guard from behind. He then slammed the guards head into the floor and then tried to sprint away. But on the other side of the opened door another guard stepped out and immediately cracked the young man across the face with his baton. The young man fell to his knees spitting out blood at what looked like a few teeth. The guard hit him across the face again. A dark black and purple bruise appeared on the young mans face. The guard had broken his cheek bone and nose. His left eye was swollen shut.

The guards dragged the young man and his unconscious victim away. Oh Pete, Joanna thought, I hope you get here soon.

“Leave him alone!” Joanna shouted through the small portal in the door. “Let him go damnit!”

The guard began pounding his fist on the door and shouting for Jo to be quiet. But she continued yelling for the Council to bring him back. The others began shouting as well.

After a few moments of ear shattering screaming, the door to her cell opened. A guard with a riot shield and a tazer stormed in, followed by a second with flex cuffs. Jo had her hands restrained behind her back. She was dragged out of her sell and lined up with the other prisoners. In front of them was the badly beaten young man that had tried to escape just a few minutes before. But now he was on his knees, his entire face swollen and black. Holding him by the collar was another guard. In the guards other hand was a pistol.

“You were warned that if you attempted to resist, there would be consequences.” The guard explained. “Maybe the rest of you will be smarter.”

The guard raised his weapon to the back of the young man’s head. A cold chill ran down Jo’s spine. The guard pulled back the hammer on his weapon. Jo couldn’t allow them to kill that man. With a sudden strike, Jo stepped back and drover her elbow into the guard behind her. Her elbow struck just underneath his rib cage. When the guard doubled over she grabbed his arm and flipped him over her shoulder, at the same time relinquishing him of his weapon. Just as she stood up she heard a gun shoot and she froze, dropping the pistol.

Jo was horrified to see that the guard had shot the young man in the back of the head as she struggled with her guard. She stood there, watching the blood pool under the unfortunate hostage. The guard that she had disarmed collected himself. All around her the other hostages were sobbing in horror and fear.

The next thing Joanna heard was a pistol hammer being cocked and a guard say, “her next.”

In what could only be called a minor miracle, an arc of energy rained down from the catwalk and knocked out all of the guard covering the prisoners. Jo looked up, she saw Pete standing on the catwalk in the black Lazarus armor. Pete came down and helped all of the frightened prisoners out of their restraints.

Pete looked over at the dead hostage lying on the floor and then looked at Joanna. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t want to give anything away to the other hostages.
“Is everyone alright? Is anyone injured?” Pete asked.

The frightened survivors shook their heads.

“Alright then, I’m Atomantium, I’m here to get you out. Everyone follow me and stay quiet.

Pete looked over at Joanna, “can you make sure everyone stays together?” He asked.

Joanna nodded.

“Okay, everyone flow me. There is a Longbow chopper flying in to pick us up on the beach. So we are going to make our way to the south end of the base.”

Pete started to lead the group out of the base. They made their way through the winding maze of corridors. Keeping seven people out of sight was not an easy task, especially when one was nearly seven feet tall and mate black. Getting out would be a lot tougher than getting in. To get in Wilson could rely on his optical camo to slip though the guards unnoticed. But now he had to lead 6 people out from nearly the center of a base that was crawling with guys that would make sure he didn’t accomplish his task.

Pete turned to look at Joanna. For the first time he noticed the bruise on her face and the cuts on her forearms. He reached up to brush Jo’s hair from her face but hesitated when he noticed the other hostages watching. Before he could give the all clear, an ear bursting alarm began to sound. Their secret was out.

With no more need for stealth Wilson blasted the ceiling of the corridor and collapsed the passage behind them. The groups took off down the last few dozen yards of the base before the exit. Patrols were closing in on them rapidly. Wilson managed to stop the few Council soldiers that they encountered. Fortunately it was a large base and they were in a seldom used portion of it. But the attacks were likely drawing more Council to this part of the base.

As they approached the last room, Wilson announced, “This is it everyone, the next door leads out to the beach.” But to get there they had to cross one more large room and a short breeze way. The room they had to cross had 4 entrances, with the door leading out straight ahead of them.

Pete crossed the threshold first. The room was clear. He signaled for the group to head past him and sprint to the door and the far end. Wilson would follow. Behind them Joanna could hear the snarling of approaching Nightwolves and the lumbering walk of Warcrys and Mechs. The others didn’t seem to notice yet as she led the group toward safety.

Just as Joanna and the others made it to the breeze way, she heard a blast go off. She turned to see Wilson slam into a wall. The other hostages began to panic. But Jo did her best to try and keep them calm. Wilson unloaded on the ceiling to cover the groups exit. But the Nightwolves were already in the doorway in front of him and clearing the debris.

Wilson turned and shouted, “I need you to guide these people out! Delta should be out there along with an H-60 to airlift everyone off the island!”

“Wait, what are you going to do?” Jo shouted back knowing full well what the answer was.

“I’m going to hold off these guards while you escape.” That was the last thing Wilson said. He pushed Jo passed the threshold into the breezeway and closed the door.

Joanna took in a deep breath and turned to the group of hostages waiting for her guidance. She rattled off her instructions quickly, her voice and her body language was confident and resolute which seemed to infect the frightened escapees.

“Okay here is the deal. Once we exit that door, everyone needs to stay close and hug the cliff to stay out of sight of any Council lookouts.” Jo instructed.

The group exited the base and did just as they were instructed. They were all lined up against the sheer cliff, with Jo scanning the horizon for the helicopter. For a moment her heart sank when it wasn’t immediately visible.

Jo felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Delta standing next to her. She could barely make out his outline. The black stealth suit he wore made him extremely difficult to see in the dark even though he was only a foot away.

“Is this everyone?” He asked.

“Yes it is.” Before Jo could continue, Delta pulled out a small infrared light from his ‘H’ harness and pointed it out toward the water. About 60 second later the beach erupted in a hail of swirling sand and high winds. The Black Hawk came down about 12 inches off the sand, right in front of the escapees. Everyone instinctually ducked their heads as Delta helped them in.

Joanna was the last one to get on, but before climbing in she hesitated.

She looked over at Delta. “He’s still inside. He stayed behind to cover our escape.” She said.

“I’ll come back for him. Right now you need to get in and get to safety.” Delta replied. The Longbow crew chief broke in and started to order Delta and Jo to wrap up the conversation and get on the helicopter. The pilot was getting antsy about being detected.

“If we wait it might be too late. I need to help him.” With that she took off back to the base.

Delta cursed and ordered the Longbow pilot to lift off. They weren’t out of the woods yet and if they had to land before they made it safely back to Paragon, the hostages might still need protection. He would have to come back for Jo and Atomantium once he finished the rescue.

Back inside the base, Jo saw the badly scared rock walls of the underground bunker. At least Pete gave them a hell of a fight, she thought. But she also knew that Pete had likely been overwhelmed.

Jo crept through the base searching for Pete with no clue where to look. For a short time she was able to follow the signs of struggle that had been left on the rock walls. But that quickly dried up, likely because the Council had been successful in subduing Wilson.

Finally, Jo came to a room that she was curiously drawn to. In it there was only one Nebula guard and he was occupied with entering data on a terminal. Jo snuck in behind him. In one clean move she kicked in his knee cap from behind forcing him off of his feet. As he went down she wrapped her arm around his throat with her wrist over his corroded artery. In a few seconds he passed out. Jo quickly gagged him and used the flex cuffs on his belt to restrain him.

The terminal he was entering data on was also regulating some kind of energy field. The field was created as energy was being focused through four prisms aligned so that the field formed a pyramidal shape. Inside the transparent energy pyramid was suspended a black and purple ball, that, according to the console, was an unbound Warshade. It was being held prisoner.

Jo was contemplating whether or not to help it when it began to speak.

“Please allow me to help you rescue your friend.” The disembodied ball of energy pulsed as it ‘spoke.’

“Wait, what? How do you know about that?” Joanna asked feeling odd speaking to something that didn’t have a physical form.

“Time is short and I fear that your friend does not have much time. He is not far from here but he is heavily guarded. I have heard the guards mention the captured hero who helped a group of prisoners escape. I sensed your presence when you arrived. I am aware of your actions and your bravery. I have long been without a host and I believe that you are worthy.” The Warshade explained. Jo was surprised to find that the alien spoke with a female British accent. It was delightfully lyrical.

Jo was skeptical buy desperate. She had heard of the Kheldian’s, the whole idea of bonding with another sentient life form didn’t sit well with her. Joanna enjoyed only having one voice in her head.

“Joanna, I promise that you will not be lost in the bonding.”
Jo didn’t answer. She read through the information that the unconscious guard had left of the screen. The information read like a horror story. According to the record the Council had captured the Warshade’s host, a hero named Black Star, 3 years ago. They had spent several months attempting to remove the Kheldian. They were eventually successful, but the procedure drove the original host insane before she eventually committed suicide. The means by which she did so are too gruesome to be recounted here.

“My God.” Jo finally gasped. Jo had heard stories about the Council. How vicious they could be. Some of it just seemed impossible. But seeing the Council’s own records and being a party to their brutality first hand, made their viciousness painfully real.

“I could not protect her. What the Council did to her was unspeakable. But your friend can still be saved.” The Warshade responded, sensing Joanna’s thoughts.

The experiences of the last 10 hours had left Jo shaken. She had always been close to the dangers in Paragon, but Pete had always been there providing a wall between her and anything that might happen. Like with Pete, Jo felt comfortable with the unbound Warshade. It was almost like they had known each other.

“Alright, let’s get Pete out of here.” Jo decided to take the risk. There was no longer any question in her mind if this was the right thing to do.

The energy field went down. Freed from its confinement, the Warshade floated only a few inches from Joanna.
“Are you certain this is your wish?” The alien asked one final time.

“Yes.” The alien entered Joanna’s body through her eyes and in a few seconds where there had been two life forms, there was now one.

Jo looked down at her hands expecting to see a black and purple gas. But she looked to be intact. That’s a relief, she thought.

Behind her, the Nebula guard had been cutting himself out of his restraints in a sharp rock. While Jo was distracted he tried to assail her from behind. Jo heard the guard moving and turned, hitting him with a point blank blast of Kheldian energy. He was staggered but not down. Jo fired a second blast from her eyes. The second shot knocked out the guard. “Neat,” she muttered. With the guard out and with her shiny new powers apparently working, Jo resumed her search for Pete.

So far the bonding seemed to be working pretty well. The alien gave Jo all the knowledge she needed to use her powers. She didn’t have a disembodied voice in her head fighting for her consciousness. Most importantly she wasn’t on the sideline any more.

Jo made her way to where the Council was holding Pete. The Council had him suspended in air, hanging by his arms. He was restrained at the wrists, but it wasn’t a physical restraint. Rather it was a blue and purple ball of energy that covered Wilson’s gauntlets.

The Kheldian wasn’t kidding when it told Jo that Wilson was heavily guarded. All around the chamber were Nightwolves, Nebula guards, Mk I Warcry’s, and a Galaxy Archon who was overseeing the torture. Fortunately, they hadn’t gotten around to removing Wilson’s armor.

The biggest immediate threat to Jo was the Galaxy. But he was obscured by the other guards. Jo waited until she could get a clear shot at him. She morphed into her Dark Nova and floated until she saw her opportunity. She rippled fired two blasts and the Galaxy was down. Before the guards noticed what had happened, Jo destroyed the generator that was powering Wilson’s restraints and he fell to the ground. By the time the Guards traced the source of the blast, Jo had morphed again into a Dark Dwarf.

The 4 Nightwolves charged the intruder and the mechs and Nebula guards opened fire. Jo met her attackers head on. The Nightwolves tried to surround Jo, but she shook the ground with a powerful stomp. The Nightwolves were knocked of balance and she attacked. She traded blows with the feral animals while taking fire from the other guards. But it wasn’t long before she managed to subdue the wolves and turn her attention to the other guards.

Jo caught the shooters off guard when she teleported from across the room to right in the middle of their ranks. From behind the group she once again shook the ground and knocked the Nebula guards off balance. The unaffected Warcry quickly reacquired Jo as a target. But rather than fire it staggered. Jo turned and drove her massive clawed fist through the machine. When the mech collapsed she saw Pete standing behind it with a piece of the machine in his hand.

The Nebula guards opened fire again. Jo morphed back into her nova form and ripple fired two explosive energy blasts. The last of the guards were down and Jo morphed back into her human form.

“Jo?” Pete was stunned to see Jo. The fact that she had just turned into a giant alien lobster hadn’t sunk in yet. He was surprised that she was still on the base. His first instinct was to be upset that she hadn’t evacuated, but he was grateful it had been her to help him. At that moment the revelation finally sunk in.

Joanna nodded in affirmation.

“Soo you have superpowers now?” Pete asked.

“Looks like.” Joanna answered.

“Well then how about we get out of here so you can tell me about it.” Pete continued.

“I thought you’d never ask.” Jo morphed back into her Dwarf form and led the way back out.

The two fought their way out of the base. Jo led the charge by drawing fire from the patrols they encountered while Pete laid down fire. Before long the two were on the beach on the east side of the island. With the sun just starting to peek over the island and the waves lapping at the sand, it would have been a romantic setting if gun-toting psychos weren’t trying to kills us , Jo thought.

Jo and Pete took a moment to catch their breath.

“With all the commotion back there I forgot to say thanks for the rescue.” Pete commented.

“I’m just glad I could be the one doing the rescuing for a change.” Jo morphed again into her dark nova. “Let’s get off this island.”

At ChemShield, another roll reversal was taking place. Jo was sitting on the examination table holding a cold compress to her bruised jaw. Pete was sitting on the doctor’s stool in front of her holding her free hand and cleaning the numerous cuts on her forearm.

“So you bonded with a Warshade to save me.”

“That’s right Pete. I have to say, the superhero thing isn’t easy.” Jo answered.

“Does that mean your going to give it up?” Pete didn’t know which response he would have rather heard. But he was happy with the one he got.

“No, no I don’t think I am. I have an opportunity to help people; I don’t think I could look at my self in the mirror if I ignored that. Besides, the Council is a serious presence in this city. They need to be brought down.”

Jo knew Pete couldn’t argue with that. After all that was basically his sentiment for putting on the armor and risking his own life day in and day out. But regardless of what Pete thought, Jo felt compelled to join the fight. She’d seen what the evil in Paragon City is capable of. The city needed all the good people it could get.

Pete nodded his head. Jo could tell by his expression that he was formulating a question. Pete always over thought everything. When he was in thought he would nod his head and push out his lower lip.

“Jo, I gotta ask, are you ok with having another personality rattling around in your head? Not that I don’t think you’ve got a strong personality or anything like that, it’s just that it’s possible that–” Pete was getting into one of his famous endless babbling loops. Jo decided to break in as she often did.

“It’s not exactly like having another personality in my head Pete. It’s more like a second conscious or enhanced intuition. Its a little voice that tells me how use my powers. But to be honest, I don’t know what the full implications are of being bonded to another life form.”

Pete stopped looking Jo in the eye once he heard that. He had gone back to bandaging her forearms. He was concerned. But Jo knew the only way she could ease his mind was through her actions. She would have to prove that the alien that inhabited her body wasn’t a threat.

Not looking up, Pete asked, “Have you decided on a name?”

“As a matter of fact I have.”

Jo paused for a moment.

“Well don’t keep me waiting!” Pete exclaimed.

“Black Star. I wanted to pay tribute to a woman that was taken to early.”

“Does this mean you’ll be joining me on my patrols?”

“It sure does Pete, it sure does.”

Does this mean that there will be a bigger development team working on COX or a smaller one? The presants are cool and all but are we losing anything in this deal?

Ok Its long, poorly written, and looks like it was writen with I10 in mind. Only the first two are true. I wrote this before I10 but when I saw what the issue was about I figured eh. I know its bad, sorry.

Origin of Atomantium’s Cosmic Powers: The Last Will and Testament of Peter Wilson
“It’s a miracle that bullet didn’t kill you Peter.” Grixon said.
Wilson was carefully removing the Atomantium armor while Grixon was at a lab station close by examining a bullet he had just removed from Wilson’s armor. During a recent battle with the Freakshow a single round was fired that partially pierced Atomantium at the right shoulder blade. If the bullet had hit about 4 inches more to the right and it could have passed through Wilsons heart, that is if the armor hadn't protected him. Luckily, the bullet didn’t pass all the way though and it was lodged within the armor. Wilson was able finish the battle with the Freaks and leave the area relatively unharmed. But who ever fired that shot had made their point, and made it well.
“Did David and Sean finally finish the ballistic tests on the armor?” Wilson asked.
“You know they would have finished it sooner if you wouldn’t use it so much.” Tobias interjected.
“Hey, give me a break; there are a lot of bad guys in this city.” Wilson replied. He pressed on his ribs checking for breaks. He was clean, no breaks, just soreness.
“They finally figured out what the upper limit of the armors strength is. Like we figured, the armor is really tough,” Tobias said sitting down across from Wilson. “The armor itself will take a tremendous amount of punishment."
“So what’s the verdict?” Wilson inquired.
"Essentially our tests and computer models confirmed our original hypothesis. We knew that it could stand up to any kind of small arms fire including explosive and armor peircing rounds. We are certain that the armor its self can survive a direct hit from a heavry artilery shell, a surface to air or surface to surface missle like the AIM 9 or a 500 pound bomb. We are reasonably sure that it would survive a SABO or HEAT round and we think it might be able to survive multiple hits from artilery or missles but not many. Essentially, Atomantium will stand up to most single target conventional weapons that we know of. Anything bigger and its lights out."
Wilson nodded his head as he absorbed the information. This wasn't really news to him or really anyone else. But the signifigance of finally getting emprical information ment that now they could make improvements on Atomantium. It was also important for a less tangible reason. Wilson needed the hard facts to ground him, otherwise he would put too much faith in the armors abilities. Faith that could get him killed.
"What resistence to energy weapons?" Wilson asked. Tobiases expresion hardened. "Energy based attacks are problematic. Now, we did manage to provide some added protection since your first meeting with Terminal Void, but it’s not much. The problem with energy based attacks is, one that the on board computing is susceptible to the secondary effects and two that the armor is a conductor, granted it’s a bad conductor, but a conductor none the less. The good news is we can beef up your energy protection. The bad news its that developing a defense is going to take some time."

Wilson stroked his chin. "Okay, but you said, all this is what the armor can handle."
“Yes, exactly, what the armor can handle is really a moot point. The real issue is how punishment can you take when you are inside the armor. Your ability to take damage is lower than the armor’s threshold. Even if the armor could survive a completely intact after three days of heavy saturation bombing, you would have been dead from the shock waves long before it was over.” Grixon said smugly as Joanna walked into the secure armor bay. Wilson had his back to the door but he could tell from the sound of her walk, who it was.
Tobias interjected, changing the tone of the discussion to one more of concern rather than beratement. "Pete, the truth is we can't be sure how much punishment you can take inside the armor. We know you have taken a lot of punishment in the past, but our simulations won't tell us with any accuracy if you could survive a hit by an artilery shell. Basically what I am saying Pete is you need to be careful."
Wilson assimilated everything Tobias and Walter had just told him. He knew they were right, but at the same time he couldn't accept their conclusions. Wilson though, 'how could Tobias be telling me to be careful? He isn't the one who is fighting for his life on an almost daily basis.' He knew that his friends were watching out for him but Wilson was not generally the type to be dicated to. But his attention was soon turned elswhere.
“Welcome home Pete.” Came Joanna’s all to welcome voice from the communications room. She entered the armor storage bay and scowled as she noticed the blood on the back of Pete’s jumpsuit. Although the bullet hadn’t passed all the way through the armor, the sharp tip of penetrated several millimeters inside the armor and dug into Wilson’s shoulder. The injury wasn’t bad, but Wilson’s movements during the battle aggravated the wound.
“Something wrong?” Wilson asked sensing Joanna’s displeasure.
“The back of your jumpsuit is covered in blood. I need to take a look.I will have to get that gash cleaned and stitched up.” Wilson did as Joanna had requested. Wilson was fortunate to have Joanna as an ally and a friend. A fact he knew very well and one which he would never take for granted.
Before her start with ChemShield, Joanna was a surgeon in the U.S. Army. She was extremely bright and quick minded not to mention beautiful in any sense of the word. Wilson always thought that Robert Heinlein put it best when he wrote “she was the reason you were glad that god created two genders.” Not very poetic but it summed up Wilson’s feelings nicely. She always had an air of self assurance and confidence about her, a quality that was rubbing off on Wilson more and more. Her confidence was tempered by a sometimes compulsive need for order and slightly more than mild distaste for spontaneity, qualities that she was slowly beginning to grow out of the more time she spent with Peter.
Joanna had graduated from high school and college early and flew through med school at George Washington University. She graduated from college with a BS in Chemical Engineering and soon after her Masters in the same field. Her decision to go to med school was based on the fact that she wanted to feel needed. Soon after she graduated she gravitated toward pursuing her career in the military. Her father had been a naval aviator and she had fond memories of the close ties her father had with the members of his squadron and his flight crew.
Joanna served on reserve duty and did her residency at Johns Hopkins University Hospital. But shortly after her residency ended, her father was involved in a tragic car accident. He was brought to John’s Hopkins hospital where Joanna assisted in treating him. Despite her efforts he succumbed to his injuries and died only an hour after the accident. The subsequent morbidity and mortality panel ruled that although Joanna valiantly fought to save her father, she was in violation of medical ethics by operating on a family member. She was suspended for 6 months. After the hearing Joanna resigned her commission from the Army and left Maryland.
Joanna decided not to return to medicine but rather pursue something else, anything else. While getting her masters she had heard about ChemShield and she made her way there. After much persistence she was ultimately hired by Grixon only 7 weeks before the incident that destroyed the facility.
Wilson heard the loud smack of a rubber glove, then Joanna added, “now drop you pants and bend over Mr. Wilson, this will only hurt for a minute.” It was the worst Austrian accent Wilson had ever heard.
Tobias struggled to hold back his smile and turned his back to Wilson as he began reassembling Atomantium in its storage outcove.
“You know that is the 50th time you have used that line. I think you had better leave the comedy to me.” Wilson said with a smug grin. A moment later he flinched as he felt a painful burning on his shoulder.
“And you think it gets funnier every time... don’t you?” Joanna asked as she held a gauze pad drenched in alcohol against Wilson’s open wound.
“Ow, ow, yes, yes, its hilarious, your skill with using the same joke repeatedly is second to none.” Wilson said wincing and trying to squirm away.
“Hmpf,” Joanna walked around in front of Wilson holding a scalpel in here right hand, “now who’s the most beautiful doctor you know?” Joanna tapped the handle on her chin as she stared through Wilson.
“Why you are of course.”
“Damn straight.” Joanna said with a nod. Wilson could hear Grixon and Tobias snickering. Wilson couldn’t help but smile too. What just happened wasn’t lost on him, how to follow up though was.
Wilson felt Joanna’s fingers on his shoulder. She was examining his wound and cleaning out the bits of fabric that had been ground into it. While she hummed and Wilson stared at the floor questions started to present themselves. What could penetrate the armor like that? Conventional ammunition even armor piercing and high explosive rounds wouldn’t leave a mark on the armor. But this one did, why? The shot was clearly fired by a sniper, and an exceptionally skilled one at that. Could the government know that Wilson was Atomantium? Who would have the technology to make an alloy that strong? What if the bullet is atomantium? Too many questions and not enough answers were racing through his head. It was going to be a long night.
“The bullet is atomantium.” Grixon said matter-of-factly. He rose from his seat and walked over to Wilson holding the bullet in a surgical clamp.
“You don’t sound too concerned Walter.” Joanna said from behind Wilson.
“Yeah what she said.” Wilson added.
“Well I need to continue to examine it to figure out where it came from.” Grixson clarified.
Tobias walked over next to Grixon, “umm, it can’t be atomantium alloy, this stuff is nearly impossible to handle in such small quantities.” He continued “I mean the reason we had enough alloy for 7 suits was because it was actually more economical to work with that much alloy rather than create enough for the suits individually.”
“Then they could have made enough for ten thousand rounds, Tobias.” Wilson replied.
“No you’re not understanding what I am saying. It isn’t only more difficult to make in small quantities, the alloy is also very difficult to manipulate, in small quantities. They may have made hundreds of pounds of alloy, but casting one gram or so drops into bullets would be almost impossible without a great deal of equipment and expertise.” Tobias said sternly.
Wilson winced as he felt the needle break skin and Joanna start to stitch shut the wound on his shoulder. “Well that narrows down the list of suspects. The fact that it would have taken an expert marksman to hit me also helps. There is one other possibility though that we need to explore.”
“What’s that?” Grixon asked.
“The bullet was cast out of the armor reminets the government confiscated after the bombing at the desert site. This points to the Malta Group, Sky Raiders or the Council. It’s not a great lead but it’s a start.” Wilson answered.
“Ok, we need some time to muddle this through. I am going to call it a night and convene everyone here in the morning so we can try and come up with something better to go on.” Grixon said.
Wilson nodded and Grixon and Tobias finished up their tasks and left a few moments later. Wilson stayed behind to let Joanna finish up and dressing his wound. When she finished she left the lab. Wilson changed into a fresh set of cloths, secured the room, and left.
Wilson made a quick stop at his office to collect a few things and made his way to the elevator. On his way there he passed Joanna’s office and saw her straightening up.
Wilson knocked on her open door, “I thought you would be half way home by now.”
“No, not yet, I couldn’t leave my office a mess.” She said as she slung her purse over her shoulder.
“I forgot to say this before, but thanks for patching me up. I don’t know what I’d do without your help.” Wilson said.
Joanna looked up with a smile, “now was that so hard.” She stepped out from behind her desk and met Wilson in the door way.
Wilson offered his arm to Joanna, “may escort you down stairs.” He asked with a playful smile.
Joanna placed her arm in his, nodded and said, “You may.”
The two made their way to the basement of the building. Joanna and Peter had been driving to work together for several months. Wilson had been the one to suggest it, partly out of convenience for both of them but mostly because every second he was around her everything seemed- well it all just seemed a little better. It was a powerful sensation. Joanna almost always seemed in a good mood, positive and up beat. For a while Wilson found himself making up excuses to stop by her office and chat. After a while he convinced himself that he had to be trying her patience. So he forced him self to stop. After a few days, she started to come to him.
The two got along extremely largely because the one challenged the other. But they also shared a lot in common. Wilson was an orphan who was abandoned by his foster family once he was 18. Joanna had lost both of her parents, he mother to cancer, and her father to a car accident. They had both spent a large part of their lives as outsiders and loaners. Both were driven and both had a sense of duty. But the one thing that perhaps brought them closest together was that they each had something to learn form the other.
“How’s Ace?” Joanna asked as Wilson’s car meandered though the streets of Steel Canyon.
Joanna and Peter arrived at his high rise apartment and went up to see Ace, Peters Black Lab. The two went for a walk, and chatted for several hours. Joanna spent the night in the spare bedroom that Pete hadn’t converted into an office. The company was more than welcome. Pete lived alone as did Joanna. Having someone else in the apartment, at least for a little while, made being there a little less burdensome. The two had a plutonic relationship, despite Peter’s internal protestations to the contrary. But life was just that much nicer with her in it, regardless of the capacity. But what ever the relationship between them, if he was wanted to change it, it wouldn’t simply spontaneously metamorphose. It was up Pete to take the leap. Sigh…
Pete spent the night in his room doing some research on the secure computer that the DIA had set up in his home. 'If they knew what I was going with this, I could lose my clearance,' he thought. He skimmed through reports from the government regarding the recovered atomantium armors. All of the reports were regarding the technology, tactical analyses, contingency plans for subsequent attacks, etc. Nothing in the databases he was searching was about a breach in security. That was bad news because if no report was filed it meant one of two things. Either a theft had occurred and it was being covered up, or a theft had occurred and it was an inside job and no one knew about it yet. Wilson didn’t want to consider either scenario.
Finally, Wilson gave in and decided to get a few hours sleep before heading back to ChemShield in the morning. He crashed for a few solid hours but was up early. Wilson left the apartment well before Joanna woke up, but not before leaving her something.
Joanna got up when she stepped out of her bed room, something across the apartment caught her eye. Joanna walked over to the Dinner table where a card had been left for her. It was from Wilson, it read:
Sorry I missed you this morning. I headed back to ChemShield early. I hope this makes up for it.
Wilson had made breakfast before leaving and laid it out on the table. He had made everything him self with the exception of milking the cow. Joanna smiled to her self and blushed. She wasn’t happy that she had been left alone but couldn’t help but smile at Wilson’s gesture. It was sweet, she thought, but he still should have waited.
Sean and David had received the message from Grixon and both decided to be at the Atomantium storage lab early. When Wilson arrived the two had just arrived and were brewing coffee.
“Morning gents, how’s life on the outside?” Wilson asked as he passed through the heavy reinforced doorway that led to the lab. Wilson was greeted by the standard “good monings” and “can’t complains.”
“Guess Joanna spent the night at your place again, eh Pete.” David asked. Peter lowered his head with an embarrassed grin and rubbed his forehead.
“Do you know how much I hate it that you can always tell when she stays over.” Wilson replied.
“Pete you wear the signs like a freaking chicken suit. We would have to be catatonic or dead not to notice.” Sean interjected.
Sean went on, “But this time we didn’t have to guess, she called here about 30 seconds before you walked in to see if your were here. She’s on her way.”
David walked over and placed his arm on Wilson’s shoulders, “Look, Pete, we are buddies, but here is the deal, if you don’t tell that girl your in love, I swear to you on my children that I will divorce my wife and take a shot at Joanna. So move your [censored].” Sean chuckled. Pete struggled to hold back his smile.
“I wish you only knew how much I hate you.” Wilson answered shaking his head.
“I know, I hate you too buddy. We still on for the Skins game tomorrow?” David asked.
“You know it. Just have to get the beer and we are set. Are you bringing the kids?” Wilson went out.
“Yup, Beth is having a day out with the girls. Sean you’re still in too right?” David asked turning to Sean.
“I’ll be there.” He responded.
“Good, so it should be a full house. Now let’s get down to business.” Wilson said pouring himself a cup of coffee.
The three men continued talking as they spread out to their sections of the lab. David and Sean went to the storage bay that housed the armor where they gave it complete review. Not far away, off to their right was an area about 10 feet square that was partitioned off by walls about three feet high. The cubicle was Wilson’s work space. He could see and hear everyone in the lab, but none of his computers or the many documents he had strewn about were in anyone’s way. As the three men became more involved in their work, the room fell silent save for the clicking of keyboard keys.
The silence was broken when Joanna entered the secure chamber. The three men greeted her and she greeted them. She made her way for Peter’s cubicle where he was reading a report on his computer screen. Joanna placed a soft hand on his shoulder and bent down to kiss him on the check. Sean and David had stopped working and were watching the scene across the room.
“Thanks for breakfast,” she kissed his check. Then she stood up and punched Peter in the arm before he could respond. “That’s for not waiting for me.”
Peter rubbed his bicep with the opposite hand, “Uhh you’re welcome, and I’m sorry.” Peter said with a confused look. He expected the kiss, the punch in the arm, was not so expected.
Joanna pulled up a chair and sat down at a computer next to Peter. She sipped her coffee and asked, “Do we have any more leads?”
“No, no more than we had last night, I have been flipping through Longbow intel reports but nothing.” Wilson said.
“What have you been looking for?” She asked.
“Well I was running a search on any incidents concerning new types of ammunition. In fact, the last couple of months have been pretty quiet, at least as far as our primary suspects are concerned. But a lot of the reports lately have been about a rash of abductions with no discernable pattern.” Wilson answered.
“Maybe you should look into that.” Joanna said.
“Probably, but first things first, I am going to pay Holderman a visit.”
Wilson looked over Joanna to Sean and David and shouted, “Did you guys finish downloading the mission data?”
Sean shouted back, “Yeah, we are going to go over it when the others show up.”
Wilson wrapped up what he was doing and suited up. As he did so, Grixon, Tobias, and Lucy arrived in the lab. He briefed them on his plan to head to the Rogue Isles to find Terminal Void for questioning. Once he was squared away, Wilson asked for two things from the group. He requested that they review the mission recording to determine where the shot came from. The second request was for Joanna. He asked her to continue to read through the Longbow reports concerning the disappearances.
-------
As Wilson flew toward the lions den, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was wasting his time. It hadn’t been that long since his fist encounter with Terminal Void, and in the interim, no reliable intelligence had surfaced that indicated Holderman had joined forces with any of the paramilitary groups in Paragon. He finally admitted to himself that this was largely a revenge trip.
“Not smart Wilson.” Pete said to him self.
I turned out not to be difficult to locate Holderman, even in a toilet like the Rouge Isles. Wilson managed to stay out of sight with the optical camouflage. He saw Void in a fight with another villain. Holderman was losing, and losing badly. Wilson couldn’t quite figure out what was going on. When they first met, Holerman was quick and agile and every hit he landed was powerful. Here he was fighting an opponent who didn’t look all that imposing.
Wilson got a reading in his HUD, the villain fighting Holderman was emitting high levels of radiation. The armor’s computer ran a quick search and came up with a match. The villain that Holerman was fighting was named Atomic Specter. Wilson concluded, incorrectly, that it was likely the radiation that had weakened Holderman. Now was the time to get some information out of him.
Wilson disengaged the camo, and took aim at Holderman and hit him with a powerful sniped blast. Once he was down, Wilson let loose with everything he had on both targets. When the smoke had cleared, Wilson set down in front of the two fallen villains. Specter was unconscious, Holderman was not. Wilson knelt down, grabbed Holderman by the collar of his tattered stinking cloths, and pulled him up. Holderman’s face was only inches from the red and gold helmet that he despised so.
“How did you make the bullet?” Wilson’s modulated voice barked out of the armor.
“I didn’t think you would be brave enough to come after me here hero. You did an excellent job of disabling a weakened opponent. Now I see why you are so beloved.” Holderman wheezed. Wilson didn’t respond, he knew Victor was right and it stuck in his gut that he had taken down an already beaten bad guy.
“Nothing to say, eh? That’s all right, if it were me, I would have taken the opportunity and killed you by now. But at least we have one thing in common. We both like our victims helpless.” Holderman continued.
Disgusted, Wilson let go of Victor letting him fall back to the ground. “Enough of this crap. Answer the question how did you make the bullet, how many more are there, and who did you sell them to.”
“First of all, stupid hero-” Before Terminal Void finished his statement he smashed a brick over Wilson head. The object connected square on Wilson’s temple, and caused the HUD to briefly blink out. While Wilson was disoriented and staggering, Holderman crawled to the unconscious Specter, grabbed his leg, and began siphoning energy from the helpless villain. Holderman only had a few seconds to take what he could from Specter because Wilson had reoriented himself, and he was pissed.
Wilson fired an energy blast at Holderman. Before the blast could connect, Holderman leapt in the air toward Wilson. Wilson immediately recognized the tactic and was ready. He engaged flight and launched himself at Holderman. Wilson connected in the air with his assailant driving his shoulder into Holdermans stomach and driving him into the wall of the building behind them. The two men fell to the ground exchanging blows on the way down.
Impacting on the ground, Wilson landed on top of Void. He raised his hand to deliver a blow but Holderman released a torrent of electricity from his body, throwing Wilson off. The armor had been insulated since the last meeting, but the strength of the electrical blast penetrated the armor regardless. A sharp pain coursed though Wilson’s body. But this time he was on a mission. While Wilson was on his knees Void approached. Wilson threw an elbow that connected with Holderman’s kneecap and he let out a howl.
Wilson quickly rose to his feet. Injured, Holderman threw a punch with his right hand. Wilson dodged the punch, knelt down, and with his right hand threw three blows in quick succession to Holderman ribs. Then he raised his left and delivered an over hand punch to Holderman’s temple. Holderman went down and Wilson approached to deliver a knockout blow. But, lying on his back, Holderman delivered a hard kick to Wilson’s stomach and then another to the helmet. Wilson staggered back. Holderman jumped up and leapt high over Wilson’s head and landed several stories up on a near by fire escape. Holderman jumped from one building to the next zigzagging his way up the side to the roofs. Holderman was getting away and Wilson pursued.
Wilson closed in and speared Holderman in the back with his shoulder sending him to the ground. Wilson turned Holderman over and raised his fist.
“How did you make the bullet!?” Wilson shouted.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. What bullet?” Holderman responded. Red dots began appearing on Wilson’s radar. His secret was out; the other villains in the Rogue Isles had seen him. He didn’t like it but Wilson had to retreat, he was out numbered and out gunned.
Wilson released Holderman, ran toward the edge of the roof, and jumped off. In free fall Wilson switched on his camo and flew off.
Holderman got to his feet and ran to the edge of the roof just as the other villains were landing around him.
“That was certainly dramatic.” He said as he looked over the edge into an empty alley.
Flying back to Paragon, Wilson contacted Joanna and the others to report in. “He wasn’t the one that made the bullet,” Wilson said over the radio.
Grixon asked annoyed, “How do you know.”
“Call it a gut feeling. When I found him he was struggling with a villain named Atomic Specter. The Terminal Void that beat me the first time should have been able to wipe the floor with that guy. But he barely survived the fight. If he was in league with Malta or the Council he wouldn’t be out here scrapping with other villains. He can’t be the one we are looking for.” Wilson answered with a sigh.
“What next?” Joanna asked.
“Back to our old friends Malta.” Wilson answered. He was headed back to ChemShield to get patched up and go over what any new information the other might have.
By the time Wilson returned to ChemShield from the Rogue Isles the sun was setting. The light from the setting sun reflected off of the archers of gleaming concrete and glass in Steel Canyon when Wilson touched down in the secret Atomantium lab. Lucy had nicknamed it the 'Tree House' because it was the top floor of the ChemShielf building and off limits to outsiders.
Wilson arrived to find the team sitting around a conference table in the small briefing room. He walked in and joined them, removing his helmet as he sat down. Girxon stood at the head of the table and the lights in the room dimmed.
He went straight to business, “I managed to complete most of the tests on the on the bullet that we removed from your armor. The chemical markers match those from the batch that the original 7 armors were created from.” Grixson paused for a moment, and then continued, “We now know that the alloy had to be taken from one of the 6 armors that are in the possession of the U.S. Government.”
Grixon then turned the briefing over to Tobias, “We analyzed the mission data from the day you were shot.” A still 3D image of the area where Wilson was fighting that day appeared on the table along with images of Atomantium and the freaks he was battling. The image showed Atomantium hovering above the ground fighting hand to hand with a Juicer.
The image turned so that Atomantiums back was facing Wilson. Tobias continued, “We calculated the trajectory of the bullet based on the angle that it entered the armor and your altitude when you were hit. This is our best guess as we are not sure of the exact wind conditions that day.” The image zoomed out. Now it showed the cliffs where Atomantium was fighting and the edge of Telos Island. A red line traced its way from the top of a small 3 story building to Atomantium.
“This is, as near as we can figure, the path the bullet took. We have the address of the building and did some digging. It makes for an excellent sniping position. The roof is sunken and a lip rises up about three feet. It provides excellent cover as well as a position to perch a rifle.” The image shrunk down so that Wilson could now see Tobias again at the end of the table.
“Great work Tobias, maybe the sniper left something behind.” Wilson said.
“There is one other thing though that the data recorder picked up.” Joanna interjected as she stood up.
The 3D image on the table grew again. The image faded from Atomantium to the HUD from Wilson’s helmet. Joanna continued, “As you know, one of the things we upgraded on the armor was the monitoring system. Specifically, we upgraded the ability of the armor to monitor vital signs. In addition to the heart monitor we added the ability to scan the targets brain functions. It hasn’t proven to be terribly useful, that is until now.”
“What did you find out?” Wilson asked leaning forward.
“It was by sheer coincidence that I came across this,” the image changed again to the read out of the vital signs of the Juicer that Atomantium was fighting.
“At first glance, all of this Juicers vitals look normal. But upon closer inspection the brain activity is anomalous.” Joanna paused to pass a manila file down to Wilson.
She continued, “That file is one of the disappearances that Longbow was investigating. In that case the subject had been severally injured and fell into a coma. The subject was injured fighting Mages in the Hallows. The subject was saved from death by another hero who is still unidentified. The injured hero was not registered with Paragon City and so was not teleported out when his injuries reached a critical point.”
Wilson interrupted, “Was he delivered directly to the Atlas Park Hospital?”
“Yes he was, no witnesses saw the unidentified hero, so it is believed that the person who saved the subject in this case was also unregistered. To continue, shortly after the subject slipped into a coma, he vanished from the hospital. The staff believed that he had simply come out of it. Longbow analysts concluded differently. The sensors that were attached to the subject recorded brain functions returning to the unconscious subject. Longbow reviewed them and found that they were the same readings recorded in subjects that were controlled by Rikti. I though the readings looked familiar to what you recorded during your fight. I ran a comparison and they match.”
Wilson inhaled deep, sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “So we not only have a connection now to the Rikti but we have a connection to a rash of abductions that have been sweeping through the city. Just to be clear on this point, you’re saying that the Freaks that I was fighting were being controlled; they weren’t acting on their own free will.” A chill ran up Pete’s spine, he knew what the answer was.
Joanna nodded.
“Good work everyone. Joanna can you keep digging into those disappearances. And see if you can’t find a common thread.” Wilson stood up and grabbed his helmet of the table and made his way back to the exit hatch.
Wilson stood under the overhead hatch which led out through the roof. Before he could lock on his helmet Joanna approached. The look on her face was familiar, though he had not seen it in a long time. It was concern, concern for Wilson’s safety. Joanna had always displayed her concern for Wilson when he went on a mission. But the look on her face now, he had only seen once before, in the desert on the first day he put on the armor. She wasn’t just worried; she was afraid.
Then Joanna did something wholly unexpected but not at all unwelcome or undesired. She stepped forward, stood on her toes, and kissed Wilson deeply, as though she had been it back for years. But then, all too quickly, it was over. Wilson hugged her for a moment and she whispered in his ear before he left, “Come back safe.”
Wilson landed on the building that Tobias had directed him to. He was standing in the middle of the roof. The loud hum and rattle from the air-conditioning ducts that ran all around him made it difficult to concentrate. Wilson walked to the rear of the building which faced the water. The building was on the edge of the island only about 10 to 15 feet from a shear drop off that went about 20 feet down to another plateau like a large step.
He looked out toward where he had been fighting the day before. The sun had almost set, which added to the difficulty. Wilson tried to picture what the sniper would have seen from this vantage point. This was definitely the stop, he thought.
He crouched down behind the wall and examined the area, looking for anything out of the ordinary. In the corner against the wall he noticed something in the fading light. It was a spent rifle cartridge. This was the spot.
The sun was now down and the only light came from street lamps and a few dim flood lamps on the roof of the building. Wilson didn’t like the idea of what he was about to do but he didn’t have much choice. He placed his hand on the side of his helmet and when he touched a specific spot a light slid out, much like the action of the head lights on a Corvette. Searching the roof want too difficult. Although there was a network of air conditioning ducts that cris-crossed the area, It was still largely open space. The light colored gravel helped just that much more.
Access to the roof was granted via a ladder inside the building that led to an overhead hatch. The access hatch had a rather tall lip, about six inches and the access space itself was rather small. That is where Wilson found a badge. It was a white temporary paper badge within a plastic protector. Wilson was extremely familiar with these badges. He had seen and been assigned many over his career. Anytime he would visit a command or secure building that he was not employed at he was assigned one so that he could gain access. But the one that Wilson now had in front of him was to Portal Corporation. The clip on the back had been ripped off. The whole thing seemed a little too convenient.
“Batman usually worked a little harder to put the pieces together,” Wilson thought to himself. Wilson pushed the thought out of his mind. Next stop Portal Corporation. On the back of the card was his destination, ‘Site Kronos’.
“G, I need some help.”
“Go ahead W.”
“I need some information from Portal Corp. I need the location of a place called ‘Site Kronos’.”
“Copy, checking, standby-” Wilson held his breath has Grixson preformed his search. Wilson stared out over the water around the island. The view was serene, peaceful. The sun had gone down but the light from the city reflected off the water. For a few moments, the anticipation and anxiety that had been driving Wilson melted away. It was a good feeling that was all to brief.
“Okay, we have something for you W,” Grixson’s stern and humorless voice broke in. “The Portal Corp location that you are looking for is Skyway City. I am transmitting the location now.”
“Copy, W out,” Wilson lifted off for Skyway City.
Wilson arrived in Sky and was about half a mile from the target building when his HUD flashed a warning. WARNING MISSLE LOCK appeared in the upper left hand corner of his HUD. After only a second Sean's voice broke in over the radio.
“You’re being tracked by a missile, it has a radar lock on you,” he said excitedly.
“Copy, time to see of your upgrade works,” Wilson replied.
Wilson took evasive action and changed his heading away from the city, increasing speed. The missile was closing fast. Wilson received a notice in his HUD identifying the missile as a Stinger, which meant the weapon was armed. Wilson watched his radar as a tiny red dot streaked across. Wilson was rapidly gaining altitude and the hostile projectile was closing fast. He could easily out run the Stinger but it would simply run out of fuel and fall somewhere in the city with a live warhead. Wilson debated turning around and simply blasting it, but he would only have one shot two at the most. He might survive a direct hit but why chance it. Attached to his back were two cylinders about the size of a large soup can, inside each was a combination of flares and chaff.
Wilson allowed the missile to close to about 200 yards. When the Stinger reached that threshold one of the canisters on Wilson’s back disengaged from the armor and exploded in a bright flash. The following instant, Wilson changed his vector, turning perpendicular to the city he cranked up the armors flight speed to its maximum, clearing the area in a few seconds. The decoy that Wilson deployed produced a field of bright orange points of light, which left trails of flames as they fell to earth and glittering shards of aluminum that seemed to hang in the air. The upgrade worked, the missile stopped tracking Wilson and flew through the field of flares and chaff. Wilson turned and followed the Stinger, which was now headed straight up. He closed in for a clear shot and hit it with a blast of energy from his gauntlets. The missile exploded in a slightly disappointing flash of smoke and flame. Peter had hoped for a bigger explosion for his trouble.
Resuming his course to the target building, Wilson saw there were four men on the roof. One was on kneeling and three others were attending to something he was holding. As Wilson got closer he saw it was a shoulder mounted stinger launcher and the three other men were in the process of reloading it. As soon as he was within range, Wilson let lose a low intensity explosive energy blast that hit all four men and scattered them around the roof.
Wilson landed on the roof as the men were staggering to their feet. He took a few moments to examine his attackers. They were all dressed in very light, pale blue jump suits. All four had tactical vests and tactical holsters for their pistols. None was carrying anything heavier than a 9mm side arm. However, their heavier weapons were strewn about the roof. In addition the pistols they were carrying, a virtual armory of sub-machine guns, grenades, ammunition, and anti-armor weapons were with the four men on the roof. Before they could fully regain their senses, Wilson rendered three of them unconscious with low-intensity energy blasts. The fourth he wanted answers from. But when Wilson approached and grabbed the man by his collar, he noticed a curiously distant look in his eyes. Something else was odd too, he wasn’t resisting. Wilson held him, looking in his almost lifeless eyes for a moment when the man suddenly passed out. He was alive, just unconscious.
“That was more than a little strange,” Wilson muttered to himself under his helmet. Not giving it another thought, Wilson restrained the four men and checked them for ID. Surprisingly all four of Wilson’s attackers had identification on them, and under their tactical vests. They had Portal Corp. ID badges but not like the one he had found in Telos. These were true permanent, employee, photo ID badges and written on each one next to their picture was the word ‘Security.’ Curious, Wilson thought. He jumped over the edge of the roof and hovered down to the ground carrying an ID he had taken from one of the unconscious security guards.
Switching to X-ray vision, Wilson started scanning the building for anything out of the ordinary. From the outside the building was totally unremarkable. It was similar in style to the other buildings surrounding it, it was not particularly tall, and the outside bore no markings. Inside, Wilson saw nothing out of the ordinary as well, just the standard office fair. As Wilson turned his gaze down ward, he ran into an obstruction. Instead of seeing sewers or a basement structure, Wilson’s view was obstructed. There didn’t appear to be any way into the complex under the building from inside, so Wilson searched the perimeter of the building for a possible entry way.
The point of entry that Wilson found was a little shocking to him as an intelligence agent. Behind the building was a entry way flush with the building but protruding out of the ground, it looked like a storm cellar entrance made of concrete. It was odd because it would be more conspicuous for people to walk around the back of the building. Someone watching the building might get a little suspicious. Examining the door carefully, Wilson searched for some kind of card reader, keypad, or biometric scanner. He did not find one.
“It’s a good thing I have the key to this door,” he muttered to him self. Wilson placed his left hand on the frame of the entry way, bracing himself. He raised his right hand and as he did so a red-orange glow started to emanate from his fist. Using all of his and the suits combined strength he was easily able to penetrate the crease in the door. But it was still a deceptively heavy door and Wilson could see it was held shut by a steel bar. Likely the bar was moved mechanically by the locking system. Using both hands Wilson started pulling the door open toward him. After a brief struggle the loops that the locking bar was placed through snapped and the door swung open. Fortunately the traffic was masking the sounds of Wilson’s B&E.
Wilson cautiously walked down the short flight of steps that led to the basement facility. What Wilson saw was like something out of a science fiction novel. The complex was brightly lit and it branched off of corridors that snaked under Skyway City. It was a sterile metallic facility that had a cold and foreboding air. Something about the place wasn’t right. It took a second for Wilson to realize what was missing. There was no alarm sounding and no security had rushed up to meet him.
Inside the hidden lab at ChemShield, Grixson, David, and Sean were frantically trying establish radio contact with Wilson. When he entered the facility, the support team lost all ability to contact Wilson. They were working to reestablish the com link and get a single strong enough to penetrate the reinforced underground facility, but nothing seemed to work.
Grixson leaned back in his chair, “I hope he can handle what ever is down there,” he removed his head set, “because we can’t help him.”
“Atomantium is an unregistered hero, like the subject from Joanna’s report. Do you think this could be a plot to abduct him?” Lucy asked turning in her chair.
Joanna sat silent, she knew that whether it was or it wasn’t didn’t really matter, Wilson was alone. If he couldn’t handle what was down there, he wouldn’t be transported out to the hospital. The stakes were high whenever Pete went on a mission. But this was the first time that they were totally out of the loop.
Grixson answered for Joanna, “I think we should be looking at the bigger picture here. The facility that Pete just walked into was buried pretty deep by Portal Corp. According to what I have been able to piece together, this facility isn’t a portal to an alternate reality, but another planet near some kind of anomaly. So we have two big questions, why did Portal Corp. take a shot at Wilson and how did they know about Atomantium?”
Tobias broke in, “I got something. We are receiving a signal from his tracker.”
“Well at least that’s something, but it doesn’t help us in the least. We need to let him know what that facility is all about.” Grixson barked. Grixson was normally a joyless and stern personality, but everyone knew that when he was like this it was out of frustration and concern.
Wilson walked out of the entry way into an open area that was created from the intersection of two corridors, the entry way and a cavernous room right ahead of him. He headed for the open room in front of him. Along the perimeter of the room was a catwalk and staked along the walls were a number of very large storage boxes of varying shapes. When Wilson stepped over the threshold of the entry way a shot rang out and hit him in the right shoulder. He staggered back, and then a second shot hit him in the left thigh. Three more shorts from different directions rang out. The impact was tremendous given they were only bullets. Each round had exploded in flames on the armor after impacting. Wilson raised his hand to return fire but he could not see where the shots had come from. The sixth shot hit Wilson square in the chest and knocked him on his back. Wilson was now on fire from head to toe, the snipers were firing incendiary rounds at him. He returned fire from his position on the floor, shooting a low level explosive blasting, hoping the shock wave would hit whoever was shooting. He took cover behind a large station that was in the center of the room. A few more shots rang out as he did so but missed their target. Wilson would soon regret his decision.
Wilson took cover in an attempt to clear the room. But taking cover placed him deeper in a room with an unknown number of snipers. They couldn’t do any damage to the armor, but they would make his progress difficult. Wilson returned fire again and saw a 50 caliber rifle fall form the catwalk. He managed to hit one of the shooters but it didn’t matter. Just as Wilson rose from behind cover to fire another blast, the sound of stomping boots and orders being shouted filled the room. He turned to see the room filling with a combination of Portal Corp security and Council soldiers. The only way out of the room was through the wall of soldiers pointing guns. As soon as all of the soldiers and guards were in position all talking stopped and they stood like statues, rifles to their shoulders.
“Throw this on the list of weird crap today,” Wilson muttered through his cleanched teeth. He peeeked at the soldiers surrounding him for a moment then finally stood up hesitantly. The soldiers didn’t move a muscle.
The room was silent for a moment. Wilson broke the quiet with a sudden burst of power, propelling him self in the air. It took only a split second for the soldiers guns to open up. The sound of all the guns going off at the same time would have been defining but the sound dampening system in Wilson helmet that muffled the noise. It felt and sounded like being inside a car during a hard rain. Wilson directed himself onto the cat walk and landed hard. As soon as he touched down he was met with sniper fire from the 50mm rifles that had hit him previously. A few seconds after it started, the gun fire subsided for a second. Many of the soldiers and guards had emptied their magazines and were reloading. Wilson seized his opportunity and fired an explosive blast, followed by an energy torrent blast. The energy blasts did the trick and put about half the soldiers and guards on their backs.
Several more Council soldiers entered the room. They numbered about a dozen but they were armed with heavier weapons. Wilson took a shot at the new group entering but missed wide to the right when he was hit by one of the snipers. Then an explosion roared behind him and sent him over the railing of the cat walk and crashing down to the floor. Wilson struggled to his knees but another explosion slammed Wilson against the storage crates along the wall. Wilson fired another energy torrent from his back hoping to get an advantage. His shot missed, in the split second before he was hit again, Wilson saw that he was being hit by high explosive 40mm granades. Before a thrid granade could be fired, Wilson squeesed off 2 energy bursts in quick succession and droped the grenadier.

Wilson fired a third and a fourth energy blast that finally rendered the last dozen or so soldiers unconscious. A few more sniper rounds rang out from the room. Wilson didn’t pursue them, rather headed for the entry way. Once he crossed the threshold the firing ceased.
During the fire fight none of the soldiers or guards attempted to take cover or try to out flank him. They just stood and fired. Again, something just didn’t add up. The Council is an elite paramilitary group; wouldn’t they have been a little more tactical in their attack? Not only that, but what was Portal Security doing helping them? The whole situation smacked of mind control. Wilson opened a comchannel back to ChemShield for input as he sealed the room of conscious attackers. When the massive door shut, Wilson punched in the control pad.
“J Come in….Come in J,” static “J this is W, come in, over,” static. Wilson knew what the problem was right away. The complex was shielded. No radio signals would be getting out. At least no signals from his transmitter would get out.
Before proceeding, Wilson attempted to activate his optical camouflage. He heard an electric hum and saw an electrical current dance across his hand then, nothing. A message appeared in his HUD, ‘OC MALFUNCTION, SYSTEM DISENGAGED.’ The optical camo was damaged in the fight. Wilson asked himself if he should continue. In his mind there was really only one option.
Wilson flipped a coin in his head and went down the corridor to his left. He followed it until he came to a bank of elevators. He entered one and took it down a few floors. It was odd that they were working if the facility was on alert. Not only that but he had walked down about 200 yards of twisting corridors and he didn’t run into any additional resistence. If this was mind control, the villain wasn’t a very good strategist Wilson thought. The second the elevator doors opened, however, Peter immediately regretted his thought.
When the elevator doors opened Wilson found himself standing toe to toe with roughly 20 Lost Eremites all with swords drawn. Wilson stood in the elevator, the doors did not close. It had been shut down. Wilson had no choice; he stepped out of the elevator, his mind empty, his fists clenched. The room before him was immense. In all it was perhaps 4 to 5 times the size of where he had had his previous battle (if you could call it that). At the opposite end of the room was something that Wilson had never seen before, something incredible. Three massive rings were mounted up right, placed several feet apart. Suspended in the center was a brilliant glowing ball that was emitting huge amounts of electrical energy. Leading up to the ball of energy was a wide ramp covered in a rubber mat.
Breathing in hard, Wilson ran though his options in a fraction of a second. None were good. Peter drew first blood against his opponents. He fired an explosive blast at the middle of the group of Eremites. They were staggered but barely affected. He only had a second to readjust the intensity and fire again with a more powerful blast. This time they were shaken. Wilson went to his right, after the Eremites on his flank. He side stepped a thrust by one, grabbed the sword, and gave it a hard tug. The Eremite lunged forward and Wilson planted his boot in his stomach. Wilson blocked the thrust by two other Eremites with the sword he held in his hand. He swung it around hurling the Eremite still holding into the group attacking him. The group closed in on Wilson from his left. He was now in the worst possible tactical position. He was surrounded.
Wilson fought like mad to fend off the attackers. He threw blow after blow and fired blaster after blast. He would disable one and another Eremite would take its place. The Ritki blades were large and heavy and his adversaries were powerful. Each blow left dents and scars on the armor. The wave of bodies was seemingly never ending. Wilson kept pushing him self to fight despite the almost overwhelming urge he felt to give up.
In an odd bit of luck, one of the attackers struck Wilson in the back sending him flying forward and out of the mass of bodies. A brief respite from the merciless beating he was receiving. Wilson used all of the strength left in his body to turn. The Eremites were closing again. He fired an energy blast at full power at the Eremite at the head of the group that launched him flying back into the rest. The force of the blast threw launched the Eremite with enough force to knock the group on there backs. But they weren’t out. The race was on now, the first to regain their composure might make it out.
Unfortunately for Wilson, the Eremites recovered quickly and they were on their feet just as Pete's vision was starting to come into focus. They charged again. Wilson took off and began firing on the group from the air. The tide was starting to turn; several Eremites were rendered unconscious after several high powered blasts. But Wilson’s attention was on his attackers and not his surroundings. He had not noticed that he was fairly close to a walk way that ran along the wall of the chamber which connected several control rooms. Behind him another group of Eremites had taken position on the walk way.
Wilson was still outnumbered 10 to one, but he had managed to knock out a good number of his attackers. As he lined up a shot a tremendous force collided with Wilson from behind sending him falling violently to the ground. One of the Eremites on the walk way had leapt from the walk spearing his shoulder into Wilson’s back. The violent confrontation left Wilson nearly unconscious. Forcing his self to find a solution Wilson remembered the countermeasure still on his back. He wasted no time. The countermeasure launched up from his back and exploded with a bright flash and a defening "BANG". As the flares fell to the ground and the Eremites were blinded by the flash, Wilson once again forced himself to his feet. He mustered all of his strength and delivered a strong upper cut to the Eremite nearest him and put it on its back.
Again, Wilson had the upper hand but he was too injured and too disoriented to capitalize on it. He fired a torrent at a small group that put them down. From his right, Wilson caught sight of a Ritki blade. He raised his right arm to block the weapon. It collided with his forearm and forced him to the ground. His body was battered, the armor damaged Wilson tried in vain to raise himself up. An Eremite planted its giant foot on Wilson’s chest. He struggled half heartedly against the behemoth. A voice started echoing in his mind Wilson tried to fight back. It was telling him he had lost, to give in. Wilson had no more fight left in him. Wilson stopped struggling.
An alien in blue armor appeared over Wilson. It knelt down and he heard the alien lay something down next to his head. Wilson’s vision was blurred and cloudy, he had difficulty making out the face, but he could see it was a Rikti. He stood over Wilson for a moment, not speaking, his gaze piercing as if he was extracting all the information he needed just by looking into the lifeless eyes of Atomantium. The feeling of acquiescence was washing over Wilson’s body. It was permeating every cell of his body. Something wasn’t right, he wasn't thinking about ChemShield, the building, the lab, its reactor or Juliana¬. He was just thinking about giving up.
“NO!!” Wilson cried out. He grabbed the Eremites leg on his chest with both hands, used his leverage, twisted the monster's foot and broke its leg and the shin. He spun around to his feet and began firing energy blasts at the group of surprised Eremites. But something was in his mind, prying out information, it was the Rikti.
Wilson’s counter attack only lasted a minute. He felt a sharp directed blow for the back of his head and fell to the ground once again. When his head hit the floor, Wilson saw the Rikti’s face looking down on him then, blackness.
Wilson gradually came to; as his senses returned to him, he noticed he was in a room totally unlike the one where he had lost conciousness. It was much smaller and the light was starile. The room was dank, an odor hung in the air that made Wilson sick to his stomach. Wilson started to take stock of his situation. Looking around he saw his hands and feet were restrained. Another restraint was around his waist. He had not fully regained the sensation in his body yet. The only information about his situation Wilson was getting was from what he was able to see. Wilson was restrained with his arms to his sides to a strange table. His head was throbbing and all he wanted to do was slip away again into unconsciousness. He fought the urge with every ounce of strength that was left in his body. He guessed he probably had a concussion. If he allowed himself to pass out, he might not wake up. Wilson shifted his body, when he did so a blaze of pain engulfed his muscles. He cried out unable to contain his agony.
In his mind a cold, distant, and unfeeling voice whispered, “it appears you are awake Mr. Wilson, welcome to you new home.” Wilson didn’t respond, he didn’t know how to, the situation hadn’t completely sunk in yet.
“You were severally injured in a battle that took place in a secret Portal Corporation facility and are now being held captive.” The memories floated back. Fear washed over Wilson, replacing the throbbing pain all over his body. He needed to escape, he tried to blast out of his restraints, but nothing happened. Why? Then it finally occurred to him, he was no longer wearing the Atomantium armor.
"We have confiscated your armor and transported you through the portal you saw in the facility to a planet far from Earth. There is no hope of escape from this place. This plant is located in the vicinity of a special anomaly identified by your species as a black hole. Your people have not yet discoverd this planet. Not even Portal Corporation knew where there portal led. Untill our forces over ran the facility, Portal Corporation scientists still believed it to lead to another dimension. You will be in this place until you die however soon that may be. In the words of one of your Earth writers, 'All hope abandon ye who enter here'."
Two Rikti Conscripts entered from behind Wilson. He felt the table he was restrained to change position. Then a 3rd Rikti entered the room. When he did so the two Rikti guards undid Wilson's restraints and sat him up. The voice that had invaded his mind began again.
“You are in our medical facility. Your wound will be treated and you will be placed with the others,” it said.
Calling it a medical facility was more than generous. Sitting up Wilson was able to get a better look at the room. The smell was horrific and splaters of almost every imaginable color dotted the walls and the floor and even the celling. The room its self was a dull metallic grey and resembled a meat locker more than any medical facility that Wilson had ever seen. He was taken to a corner of the small room and was made to stand facing the wall. Wilson’s hands were restrained in front of him by a device that resembled handcuffs, but rather than have the two restraints separated by a chain, there were mounted edge to edge and perpendicular to one another. The restraints locked around Wilson’s wrists one on top of the other. One of the Ritki guards activated a device below Wilson. A low almost imperceptible hum sounded and Wilson’s could not raise his arms or move his legs. Something below the floor, or the floor itself was pulling down with tremendous force the restraints around Wilson’s wrists and ankles.
As Wilson stood, bound by an invisible force, an unseen medic was attending to Wilson’s shoulder wound. Wilson couldn’t turn to see what was happening but he could feel a warm sensation around the area that Joanna had stitched up. After perhaps 2 minutes the “procedure” was over and the field that restrained Wilson was released.
Wilson was taken through a series of long corridors. Along the way the guards would rough him up, throwing Wilson on the ground, kicking him punching him when he would lag behind. It made the trip seem much longer than it really was, but there was really no way to gauge just how long it was taking anyway. Finally, Wilson was dragged into a massive almost conical chamber. Along the wall of the room Wilson could barely make out doors, they were constructed in such away that they were almost seamless against the wall. He could see that leading from the catwalk, which made its way around this level, were 6 entryways, 5 that Wilson could see, and the one that he had exited. The entryway that Wilson had come out of had a guard station where the two Rikti stopped for a moment presumeably to get instructions on which cell would be Wilson's. Catching a glimpse over the railing, Wilson noted that the chamber went down several levels before reaching ground. He did not have long, however, to examine his surroundings. Within a few moments he was tossed into a cell.
Wilson hit the floor hard and the door to the cell slid down in a flash, sealing him in. Wilson’s eyes adjusted to the brightly lit cell. The room was a sickening redish brown, like the color of rust. The cell was extremely small with no place to sleep other than the floor. His vision was blurry, and he had not yet regained all of his senses. The situation was bad. Wilson took stock in his beleaguered mind:
Situational Analysis
Physical Location: Prison ¬verification required
Geographic Location: Unknown
Status: Severely injured, held captive, armor location and status unknown
Possibility of Rescue: Unknown
Resources: Unknown ¬ further verification r required
Captors: Ritki
Purpose of Incarceration: Unknown
Objectives
1. Determine location
2. Discover location of Atomantium
3. Discover reason for captivity
4. Survive, Escape, Evade, Resist
“Tall order,” Wilson said to an empty cell. He wanted to get up and look around the room but he was still week and in pain. Falling a sleep was out, not because of the harsh sleeping conditions but because he still did not know if he had a concussion or not. Without anything to occupy his mind, staying awake was a monumental task in his condition. And it was a losing battle. Wilson’s body was too weak and unconsciousness overcame him.
---------------
Tobias and David had been up for 72 hours straight. All of their thoughts and movements were fueled by caffeine, will power, and determination. They had been in the windowless secret lab inside ChemShield since they had stopped receiving a signal from the GPS tracker in Wilson’s armor. The two men had been in front of the monitoring station, running diagnostics on the equipment, breaking into government mainframes and retasking satellites. Joanna had stayed too, she had been monitoring signals traffic through sources that Wilson and the others had hacked. She was hoping someone would make a mistake and say something indicating what Wilson’s status was. None of the usual suspects was saying anything useful. In the 72 hours since the team lost contact, they had formulated a hundred possible scenarios for Wilson’s disappearance. None of them useful and none of them led them in a productive direction. If he had been killed, no one was taking credit. If he had been kidnapped no one was announcing it.
Grixson joined the trio after having walked Wilson’s dog, Ace. “Still no sign of Wilson?”
“No, now help or get out,” Joanna snapped from across the lab. Grixson ignored the outburst. Joanna was upset and on edge, they all were. No sign of Wilson and no way to figure out what happened. The only thing she could figure was that losing contact with Wilson had something to do with the unregistered hero abductions. But the how, why, and where were not presenting them selves and the frustration was taking its toll.
After he had a chance

I still say, Devs please give us a quarterstaff set for Scrappers. I will play this game day and night if you do.

To: B. Walter Hienlin, Deputy Director Domestic Intelligence National Security Agency Project Alchemy Oversight Desk
From: Peter Wilson, Field Analyst
CC: Maj. General Gregory Allen, Director National Security Agency
Marcus O’Neal, NSA Longbow Liaison Officer
Maj. General Marcus Coburn, Commanding Officer, USAMRID
Mr. James W. Scott, Director of Central Intelligence
Mr. Paul S. Allen, Deputy Director Federal Bureau of Investigations, Domestic Paramilitary Investigations Office
Subject: ChemShield data compromised, Project Terminal.

OVERVIEW
As previously reported, on 20 June 1995 an attack was carried out on the former ChemShield desert facility by an unknown and still unidentified group. The group unsuccessfully attempted to steal technology from the facility. The result of the attempted theft was the destruction of the ChemShield facility and the death of the company’s CEO, Cyrus McMillan. The details of the attack and why it failed remain unclear (see report from NSA field operative Maj. Dean Erikson dated, 12 July 1995). However, recent back up of the ChemShield database reviled that information regarding ChemShield project 15-236-9, designated Terminal, was removed without authorization only 14 hours before the facility was attached on 20 June.

The attack on the facility destroyed all of the company’s onsite computer files as well as all physical records. As a result of the destruction of the company’s critical data, all security records were lost as well. The recent back up reviled corruption of all files associated with project Terminal, no other files were damaged. Only approximately half of the company’s data survived the destruction as a result of being stored in redundant offsite servers. The corruption indicates that all of the files were last accessed at the same time in the early hours of 19 June 1995.

Project Terminal was under the charge of Dr. Victor Holderman. The project was aimed at decreasing an individual’s metabolic rate and thus increasing their stamina and reducing fatigue. Holderman and his staff managed to produce an experimental gene therapy to create the desired effect. The project was abruptly halted shortly after ChemShield was awarded its contract with the Department of Defense. Furthermore, approximately 2 years before the 20 June incident, ChemShield had been embroiled in legal action with Crey Industries over copy right infringement. The dispute was over the nature of project Terminal. Court documents indicate that the data being used by Holderman in his study were owned by Crey Industries and that they were unlawfully removed from a facility in Brickstown. The law suit was eventually dropped and the final settlement was sealed.

As of this report the final outcome of the proceeding is not known. However, the documents suggest that Crey was the moving party in the settlement.
CONCLUSIONS
The evidence indicates that the theft of the data was conducted by Holderman himself. Although all security and surveillance data was lost from the desert facility, an extensive review of the corrupted Project Terminal data indicates it was accessed using Holderman’s security information. The corruption of the data is a result of it being accessed with inactive security data. According to the ChemShield computer forensics department, the files were corrupted as a security measure but examination of the files points to a download of approximately 60% uncorrupted data.
Holderman would have been the only individual who could make use of the incomplete data. He had worked on a similar project with Crey Industries before being terminated. Much of his professional career centered on Project Terminal, when it was shut down by ChemShield he broke into his lab and attempted to retrieve the data to continue the research either with another company or rogue organization.

The compromise of the integrity of Project Terminal represents a clear and present danger to the security of the United States and its allies. Currently, governments and registered heroes have the advantage over any threats to or enemies of the state in terms of funding, personnel, and equipment. However, Project Terminal would allow any challenger to create a pool of expendable, manufactured, super powered soldiers.

I recommended that immediate covert surveillance be implemented or stepped up on all paramilitary groups within the United States. Furthermore, all registered Super Groups around the country are alerted and all SGs within Paragon city be issued intelligence liaisons.
<<<<<<<<<<<<En d Report>>>>>>>>>

In the early hours of June 20 1995, Victor Holderman found himself standing at the fence line of a building that had once been his refuge, ChemShield. The desert nights were serene. Victor felt comforted by the quiet. He had spent many a late night in his lab at the facility; he always felt that the scientists working around him were incompetent lumbering fools. The noise of their inane chatter made him rigid; he couldn’t focus on his work. He would sometimes spend days there, not sleeping, not eating, only working, creating. He knew he his project would save ChamShield, Crey’s loss would be their gain and of course make Victor rich in the process.

But what did all of that sacrifice get him? All of the blood and sweat he gave to ChemShield and Crey had brought him what? He was standing alone, staring through a fence at a distant building struggling to decide how he had come to this.

“It was that damned Alchemy project and that damned Wilson that McMillan loved so much, that’s why I lost Terminal. Pointless technology and the arrogance of McMillan, forcing me to work on that bloody armor.” Victor muttered to himself as he began cutting out a small section of fence.Holderman removed the section of fence and passed through the hole. He made his way across the vast field of black asphalt toward the building. As he did so the thoughts of his time before ChemShield began trickling into his mind.

In 1985 it seemed like every one of his peers was a computer scientist or engineer or designer or some such nonsense. At the age of 25 Holderman had managed to race through college, grad school and his doctorial program. He was the youngest Ph.D. that Johns Hopkins had ever had. He had double majored in particle physics and bioengineering for his masters but ended up settling on the latter for his Ph.D. He naturally gravitated toward the field. At the time, the pool of qualified individuals in the field was limited. He made a name for himself as a brilliant young man who was restructuring existing knowledge in the field. However, he had taken it too far when it was discovered that he had plagiarized at least 3 of his journal articles from his colleagues. Holderman was a brilliant pure scientist, but he lacked ethics and imagination. He was in almost every sense of the word a genius, but his success was built on the backs of others.

Crey had recruited him at the age of 26 to work human bioengineering division. He gained notoriety there and quickly moved up through the company. But he did so at the expense of his colleagues. Holderman was generally disliked even loathed by his peers for any number of reasons, but chief among them was that people around him had a bad habit of quitting.

One night, after not having left his office for several days, Holderman came across some research being preformed by Dr. Emil Baker. Dr. Baker was working on a supplement for soldiers to help their bodies use energy more efficiently in order for them to be active and alert for longer periods of time.

“The fool,” Victor thought to him self in his lab.
“You have to fundamentally change the human physical make up in order to accomplish that. The body will simply adapt to the supplements.” He continued in his mind. A sly smile crept across his lips. He had an idea.

Victor spent months in his lab performing experiments and conducting research on a gene therapy that would alter the human body burned through energy. Conceivably, he theorized, you could get the human body to burn through energy so efficiently that a person could stay awake and functioning at normal levels for days. A potential side effect he also theorized is the possibility of superhuman abilities. Their bodies would now be under a different set of constraints and operate at a much higher and more efficient level.
Victor took his findings to the Crey funding board. They were pleased with potential profit this presented for the company and decided to go forward with the project full scale. As this new project seemed to show more promise than another one which had been languishing under Dr. Baker, the Baker project was scraped and its resources transferred to Holderman.

For several years the project ran. It produced fruit and continued to be funded by the company. The project had begun animal testing when it reached its plateau with Crey. Holderman was running through researchers and science staff faster than the company could hire them. People left or were fired at an alarming rate. The departing scientists complained that Holderman was deliberately altering data and seemed to be taking a sick pleasure in testing on the animals even though the survival rate after being given the therapy was only about 1 in 10.

Crey officials finally shut down the project when it was decided that Holderman was wasting valuable resources on a worthless endeavor. The cost benefit analysis determined that Holderman was an extraneous expense that needed to be cut. But when Holderman left he took all of the electronic information he could from his work at Crey with him. Victor felt that the severance package that he received from Crey was lacking and that the data would make up for that.
Holderman started at ChemShield in 1990 after meeting McMillan at a conference. He was impressed with Victor’s genius but put off by his lack of tact. Despite his abrasive nature, Victor was at home at ChemShield and general accepted among the other misfits that made up the company. He even found himself chuckling over a sign that hung over the entrance to the west wing of the building that read “Now entering the land of misfit toys.” Clever if not sophomoric, he remembered thinking. But then there was Project Alchemy.

Victor had the distinction of being the only Bioengineer at the facility. As such he was largely allowed to pursue his own research. He began work on Project Terminal shortly after arriving at ChemShield. It took some convincing for McMillan to agree to allow it to move forward. Exactly what possessed him to allow the project to move forward no one will ever know. But after the law suit, the reports of animal deaths, and the success of the Alchemy research, Holderman’s Project Terminal was shut down.

When the project was cut, Holderman was reassigned to project Alchemy. Specifically, he was asked to work on an experimental optical camouflage. For several months Victor put his knowledge of light to work on the Atomantium system. But his anger over his reassignment, and having to work on the very thing that took him away from Terminal made him impossible to work with and eventually he was released from ChemShield.

Victor’s mind returned to the present as he approached the door to the facility. He removed a blank key card from his jacket pocket and inserted it into the reader. A program on the card ran that searched for the entrance code. A red light blinked for several seconds and then it flashed over to green. The door lock disengaged and Victor made his way inside the facility.

He walked briskly down the hall to his old lab. Again he inserted a blank card in the reader at his lab door and made his way inside. He walked toward the back of the room where his old computers rested. Holderman unslung a bag from around his shoulders and removed a stack of storage cassettes. He clicked on a flash light and searched for the power switch in the dark room. The computer began humming to life and the screens flickered on. Victor inserted the top cassette with a blue label into the slot; the label read ‘Pandora’. A green bar appeared at the bottom and crept across the screen. Once it had made its way across the screen a green curser flickered in the top corner of the screen. Victor typed in his information and he was directed to the computers menu. Finally, Victor began downloading the data from Project Terminal into the storage cassettes he had brought with him.

As the download ran, Victor walked back into his old office in the corner of the lab. He retrieved a stack of notebooks from his desk and began thumbing through them. It took roughly two hours for the download to finish. ChemShield had no physical security. The company relied on passive electronic surveillance and counter measure to protect its data. McMillan felt that keeping a security force on the premises compromised the integrity of the data and he never believed that any one of the people that he hired would ever commit such an act. He wouldn’t live to regret his mistake.

Victor left with the data and returned home just as the sun came up. “I have been wasting my time with fools and pretenders of years, but no more. The only person to reap the benefits of Terminal will be me.” Victor muttered as he made his way to his basement laboratory. McMillan had outfitted Victor’s home with much of the equipment he would need to conduct his experiments at home when he realized that Victor was spending days on end in his lab.

5 days went by before Holderman emerged from his lab for food and a shower. He turned on the TV in his living room as he shuffled to the kitchen. The evening news was running, in the upper right corner next to the Anchormans head was a graphic of ChemShield logo. Tense with rage, Holderman hurled the remote against the wall. But then the anchorman became audible.

“The Department of Defense has finally released a statement regarding the incident at the desert facility.” The Anchorman paused for a moment.

“According to the DoD spokesman, an explosion at the facility breached storage of toxic material. The military was mobilized to seal off the area. The spokesman would not elaborate as to the nature of the material, stating that information was classified. But he would say that the bombing was necessary to vaporize the material and prevent it from spreading to the water table and near by aquifer.” The anchorman paused again and the camera pulled back.

“The facility was completely destroyed.” He said looking down shuffling his script. Victor made his way to the television and calmly turned it off. A smile formed on his face and a laugh emerged from his lips as he walked back to the kitchen and poured himself a bowl of cereal. For the first time in months, Holderman felt jubilant, excited, elated.

After he finished eating and showering, Holderman made his way back to his lab. “Those damned fools, now they have nothing. Terminal will get me everything I ever wanted; McMillan made a grave mistake when he discontinued my work.” Victor thought.

Victor took a rubber turnicate out of his desk drawer and wrapped it around his bicep and tied it off. He sat on his stool and reached across his desk for a vile and syringe. The needle pierced the membrane of the vile and the syringe began drawing back liquid into the barrel. Holderman removed the syringe from the vile and injected it into his arm. He removed the turnicate and walked back upstairs. As he ascended the stairs he felt fatigue wash over his body. He dismissed it as his lack of sleep and crashed on his couch.
When Victor awoke several days later he felt invigorated, vital and extremely hungry. Victor cleaned out his refrigerator, but a few hours later he felt his hunger return. His house now devoid of anything edible he decided he would celebrate. So he left walked out of his home and to his car. But he hesitated just before inserting the car key into the door. “I wonder,” he thought and he turned and began running. At first it was a moderate pace but he did not feel his body hindered, so he ran faster, and faster until he finally felt his body strain. But without realizing it he had run from his house to the restaurant. He had cleared a distance of several miles in record time. This only meant one thing. Terminal worked, and not only that but he was right about everything!

The hostess greeted victor with a smile, the he uncharacteristically returned. He sat down reviewed the menu and ordered as soon as the server appeared. The food couldn’t come quick enough as Victor devoured everything that was brought before him. When the server brought him the bill he brushed her hand momentarily and felt a sensation shoot through his hand and he felt a small surge of energy like he had just downed a shot of espresso. “Interesting,” he thought.

Victor stepped outside into the afternoon sun and started his walk home. After several minutes Victor felt his body grow heavy again.

“Wait a minute, something isn’t right.” Victor said to himself. He sat on a bench to catch his breath. He struggled to keep his eyes open. A dog wandered by him and nudging Victor’s leg, when he touched the dog to push it away he again felt another surge of energy. This time he did not release his grasp. After several seconds he felt invigorated again. Victor looked down at the dog and it hard curled up on the ground. It was dead. Victor had drained all the energy from its body and the dog could simply not sustain its self. No, no, no, this was not right, not right at all. What had he done to himself?
Victory continued home but when he made it inside he collapsed. When he woke his mind was cloudy, he couldn’t focus. He dragged his weary body to the bathroom and splashed water on his face to try and get a handle on his situation. When he looked in the mirror he was over come with terror. His face, it had changed, it was monstrous.

Frightened and angry Victor drove his fist through the mirror. The shards slashed his hand. Victor looked down, it wasn’t only his face that had changed, his body was mutating as well. He saw the cuts on his hand slowly begin to close. This was good but he couldn’t quite grasp why. What was wrong he wondered? Why couldn’t he focus? Then he simply gave in and obeying some other desire not his own, Holderman burst out of his home into the night.

Victor Halderman’s mind was twisted and warped by the gene altering serum that he had injected into himself. He was singularly focused on his own survival. He began living in alleys as sewers, sapping the energy from stray animals in order to survive. For years he wandered across the country. His body continued to mutate until in no longer resembled a human form. Years passed and Holderman wandered across the country.

One day Halderman found himself in a sewer searching for some unlucky animal to feed on. But as he was growing more desperate he came across a tall figure in a smock, rubber gloves, and a surgical mask. The smell of death was familiar to him and it drew him in. Holderman crept up behind the figure, grabbed him and began draining the energy from his body. The sensation was different this time. He had done taken the life of countless mammals but this was new. It took longer than it had before and for the first time he felt satisfied.

The animal that had ruled over Victor’s mind began to recede into the blackness of his unconscious mind. Victor’s mind was still cloudy, still hazy, but he new that he had no idea where he was or even when it was. So he began searching the sewers for a way out. Victor searched for hours for a way out of the dank labyrinth. His search brought him across a group of gang member loitering in front of the exit to the sewers.
Victor stepped out from behind a pipe. “Out of my way,” he snarled at the 4 Hellions in front of him.

“Umm, how about we just kill you instead freak,” one of the gang members shouted as all four of them drew their pistols.
But before they could fire the fight was over. Victor leapt out and over the four gang member. He grabbed one form behind and began draining his body. The others hesitated to fire but before they could decide what to do, Victor hurled his victim at the other three Hellions. Victor lunged forward and drove his fist into the stomach of the next gang member forcing the wind out of him and dropping him to the ground. The third Hellion pointed his weapon at Victor but in a blink, Victor crouched down and kicked the Hellions legs out from under him. Victor pounced on his chest and broke the Hellions jaw knocking him unconscious. The fourth one wised up and ran off as fast as he could back into the sewers. Victor decided he didn’t need to follow. Instead he turned his attention to the two unconscious Hellions that he hadn’t yet drained.

Victor had acted on pure instinct in the fight against the Hellions; he still didn’t quite know what was going on. But as he was infused with the energy from the three Hellions more pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place. But first he had to know where he was and second- he knew there was something else but couldn’t quite place it. Victor walked to the gate that led out of the sewers. It was locked. He reached out to grab the pad lock but as he placed his hand around the lock a surge of electricity shot out of his hand. The lock fell open. This was strange and at the same time something told him this was good.

It took several days, and several more victims, some villainous, others innocent civilians. He no longer was hiding in alleys and sewers like the animals that he subsisted on for so long. He started taking refuge in abandon buildings, confiscating hideouts and equipment from other groups. He slowly began his research again. He remembered Terminal, Crey, ChemShield, and something else that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He was full of rage and hatred and he was focusing all of it on anyone who was in his way. But one day he left to search for his next victim when he came across a coin operated newspaper vendor. The picture on the front page caught his eye.

He held his hand over the vendor and blasted it with bolt of bioelectricity. The door fell open and Victor removed a paper. The photo was of a red and gold armored hero standing over a vanquished Malta Hercules fighting suit. I couldn’t be, he thought. It was destroyed wasn’t it? He read the article and then he saw it, ‘Atomantium.’ His mind was filled with white hot rage. The paper burst into flames in his hands as electricity surged out of Victor’s hands. If Atomantium still existed that meant ChemShield still existed. Victor rushed back to his abandon building; he had to know what had happened to the people and company that had turned their back on him all those years ago.

After a quick internet search, Victor learned that ChemShield had survived the accident and the destruction of its headquarters. What was worse, not only did it survive, but it had grown. It was worth millions. The original 300 employees had all become wealthy as a result of ChemShields commercial success. Its founder was the only casualty of the accident. Not only were the company and its employees prospering, but the man that had thrown Victor to the wolves was dead. Enraged, Victor destroyed his Kings Row lab and ran out into the night. He took out his rage on anyone that crossed his path, absorbing the energy from a dozen people before his mind became clear.

ChemShield was still around yes, but it had moved right into his back yard. His revenge would be all the sweeter when he destroys the company at its peak. What was more, although he couldn’t kill McMillan he could destroy the thing that turned him into the twisted freak that he was, Atomantium. He would rip the armor apart piece by piece. But accomplishing such a task would require planning. He would have to learn about his enemy first hand.

It was difficult, but Holderman stalked Atomantium for months. He watched him in battle. He learned how he fought, how the thought, his strengths and his weaknesses. He noted that the armor had been upgraded. It had abilities that were not part of the original design he remembered working on years prior. Finally, however, he was ready to make his move.

“Your not the only workaholic here you know.” Juliana said as she made her way to Wilson’s desk.

“I see, well I am about to call it a night. You know anyone else is also…uhh, I mean who may also be…may be as well. Crap, sorry long day.” Wilson, and Juliana had become very close since that day in the desert, but he never got over his anxiety about being around her. Wilson shifted in his chair and searched for something charming to say to deflect from his last statement but before he could Juliana broke in.

“Yes genius, that’s why I am here. Just checking to see if you wanted some company but it looks like your done for the day.” She said.

“I could hang out for a bit.” Wilson said with a relieved smile. But before Juliana could answer, something shook the building. The two were silent for a moment. Then it happened again and again.
Wilson stood up, he looked at Juliana then made his way for the door. The room shook again. Juliana reached for his hand. “Be careful Wilson, something about this seems wrong.” She said.

Wilson wanted to say something comforting. He wanted to give her a reassuring kiss. He wanted to do anything other than what he did.

Wilson smiled, nodded and said, “thank you, I will.” You tool he thought. That wasn’t the best thing you though of. Why can you beat up giant monsters, super powered villains, giant robots but he was too afraid to talk to Juliana? No time for that, time to get to work.

Wilson hurried into the vault that housed the armor and suited up. When the armor was activated a signal went out to Girxon, Juliana and the other 5 people that knew Peter Wilson was the person piloting the Atomantium armor. As soon as he secured his helmet a message came in from Grixon.

“I see you’re going to work, what’s the situation?” Grixon asked over the radio.

“Don’t know yet. But something is shaking the building. It seems to be coming from the roof so I am going to check it out."

“Understood, I will fill in the others.” Grixon responded. Then the channel was closed.

Wilson stepped over to a square that was drawn onto the floor. Over head a hatch opened up and Wilson took off through the tunnel. As he cleared the roof something hit Wilson in the back of the head with incredible force and he crashed on the roof of the ChemShield Building.

“Greetings hero,” came an unfamiliar voice from the darkness.

Wilson rose to his feet. He was curious why he hadn’t continued to be attacked but remained alert. “Who are you?”
A dark, twisted form in tattered rags stepped into view. “Maybe this will help.” Victor paused and waited for a response. Nothing.

“So you don’t recognize me. But then you could be a new hire. Or maybe you’re not with the company at all. Doesn’t matter, who does the dying isn’t as important as the actual dying.” Victor said.

“Enough of this crap, who are you wand what do you want here?” Wilson demanded.

“Fool, I am the one that will destroy this company, and every single person associated with it, and then I am going to destroy you, the thing that turned me into this.”

Victor went on, “ChemShield tossed me aside after I gave them years. Them and Crey both and both of them are going to pay.”

“Victor Holderman? You’re Victor?” No sooner did Wilson say it than Victor hurled a chunk of roof at Wilson. In a flash, Wilson raised his hand and blasted the projectile out of the air.

“NO, NOT VICTOR HOLDERMAN. TERMINAL VOID!” Holderman shouted.

“Victor Holderman is dead. I killed him.” He continued.
Wilson raised his hand again to release another energy blast. As he did so, Holderman leapt through the air toward Wilson and smashed his fists down on the top of Wilson’s head. Wilson was shaken, but he threw an uppercut that landed square on Holderman’s jaw and threw him back through the air.

Holderman stood up, “You have two choices,” he held up a small box with two toggle switches, he flipped one on then pushed a green button that lit up. A blast went off behind him. Wilson turned to see a fire blazing from a building near the Green Line Monorail station.

Holderman continued, “Try and subdue me and hope that some other hero stops the fire and saves all those innocent people, or put out the fire your self, save the day but I escape.” Wilson scowled and gnashed his teeth under the helmet. There was only one real choice. Wilson turned and ran off the edge of the roof. He was in a free fall for a few seconds then clicked on his boots and was headed at full speed toward the burning building.

Wilson was at the building in 30 seconds. When he touched down, there was no time to waist. The building was engulfed in flames. He switched on the sonar view in HUD and began scanning the building for people. He wasn’t seeing anyone. Just to be sure he switched over to the X-ray view and covered the building. Again, nothing.

“Crap he bluffed me and now he’s getting away.” Wilson thought, cursing himself.

He walked out to the street, and kicked over a fire hydrant. Water sprayed into the air, an urban geyser. Wilson removed a nearby manhole cover and used it to divert the water toward the building. I took several minutes but the Paragon Fire Department arrived and began foaming the building. The fire was under control.

But as the fire was being subdued, a fast moving target appeared on Wilson’s radar. Wilson turned around to see Holderman lunging at him once again. Holderman had leapt off the building after Wilson had left and circled around to watch him from a distance and pick his moment to attack. The manhole cover still in his hands, Wilson hurled it like a Frisbee at the incoming threat. But instead of hitting its target, Holderman caught the cover and using its momentum spun around and released it again at Wilson. Before he could react the, Wilson was hit with tremendous force in the stomach by the steel disk. Wilson was thrown back into a building and driven through its brick façade.

Holderman followed him inside and leapt on Wilsons chest. He proceeded pound his fists relentlessly on the faceplate of the Atomantium helmet. Wilson attempted to shield himself but to no avail. Finally, Wilson drove the side of his hand into Holderman’s side finally knocking him off. Groggy and dazed Wilson tried in vain to hit Holderman with an energy blast to slow him down but he was just to fast.

Victor leapt to within inches of Wilson and in one swift move crouched down, and swept Wilson’s legs out from under him. Wilson on his back, Holderman grabs his ankle and begins to swing his nemesis. Holderman releases his helpless victim once he has built up sufficient momentum and hurled Wilson back through the brick wall and into the alley.

Holderman walked out to his victim. He knelt and placed his hands on Wilson’s chest. Then electricity coursed through Wislon’s body. Wilson yelled out in agony, his body convulsed his spine felt like it would snap. Then as quickly as it started, it was over.

“Remember today, remember the day that Terminal Void bested the invincible Atomantium and know that I can do this any time I choose. I am going to break apart ChemShield piece by piece and you won’t be able to stop it.” Holderman hissed.

The armor damaged, Wilson injured, thoughts raced through his mind. “I have to end this,” he thought. Then before he could come to a conclusion, a piece of asphalt that had been ripped out of the ground flew past, just inches from Wilson’s head, collided with Holderman, and sent him flying.

Holderman collected himself after slamming into the security barrier wall. He prepared himself to go back and finish his helpless victim but he saw a massive figure making his way to Atomantium’s side. Holderman decided that his point had been made and that it was time for a strategic retreat. He had become powerful, but he was not yet powerful enough to battle two heroes. He would bide his time, and plan his next strike. Today, he was the victor.

Epilogue:
Propped against the building wall, Wilson saw a huge figure approaching him as the armors systems began resetting. He pulled him self up and prepared himself for a second fight but instead the unidentified figure spoke.

“Are you injured? Do you need medical assistance?” The figure asked.
“No, no. Who are you? Were you the one that saved me?” Wilson asked as he tried to focus his vision.
“To answer you questions, Rock Mason and Yes I am.”

This is a Scrapper I created that I love playing. He is lvl 21 atm, I'm always looking for teams and if you like the Origin story and want to keep it going with some of your characters please let me know. You can send me an ingame email or tell @Atomantium.


Longbow has long been the sentinel that guards Paragon City from the chaos that creeps in the dark. Longbow is the keeper of the peace and is revered by the citizens of Paragon as their protector. The members of Longbow are seen as beacons of justice. But there comes such times in the course of history where societies are forced to make concessions with their morality. Over the years, the threats to Paragon City and its Citizens have become more insidious, vile, dangerous, and powerful. As a result, Longbow has had to reevaluate the lengths it is willing to go in order to preserve the safety of Paragon and its inhabitants. And so enter Longbow project codenamed Black.
Highly visible, taxed to its logistical limit, Longbow was and continues to be challenged by an ever more sophisticated, determined, and single-minded enemy. Longbow began to find its conventional forces and tactics to be inadequate against the more asymmetric and unconventional threats. Now classified, and known only by the highest ranking members of the Longbow Command inner circle (known as the “Cadre”), an event occurred 6 years ago which highlighted the need to create an elite special operations unit with Longbow to challenge the treats that conventional Longbow forces were ill equipped to handle. The missions of this force were to be highly classified to protect the public and Longbow. The event which sparked Longbow’s push for an elite team was the successful infiltration of the Longbow command structure by a telepath whose identity and ultimate fate are known to only three members of the Cadre.
Following the Longbow infiltration, it was deemed necessary by the Cadre to create a small elite, versatile unit of Longbow operatives who could take on the dangerous missions quietly and swiftly, but most importantly do what ever was required to neutralize the threat. The project was buried deep within the Longbow bureaucracy. The program did not officially exist, and as a result never named as to not leave any trail which could be traced back to the program. The program was known only as BLACK to the scant few individuals who knew of its existence. The Longbow Black team would be comprised of experts in stealth, all forms of armed and unarmed close quarters combat, all forms of small arms, explosives, infiltration, extraction, espionage, programming/hacking, at least 7 languages and if necessary assassination. Above all, however, all members of Black were not to have any superhuman abilities, other than certain augmentations that were supplied and if necessary controlled by Longbow Command.
Ultimately, Longbow Black would only have one member before it was discontinued (it is not known, however, if at this time Longbow has attempted to recreate this unit). The exact identity of Black’s first commando is still a mystery. This first operative is known only as Delta, or more accurately the Greek symbol Delta (so named for his role as the “tip of the spear” in protecting Paragon City). His origin prior to Black is thus a mystery, but it is believed that Delta was recruited from Longbow’s conventional forces, but there is no evidence to suggest this. Delta served as Longbow Black’s only member for 26 months. In that time he was involved in 3 successful operations, and a 4th operation, code name Nest which ultimately led to Delta’s defection from the organization.
During Black’s operation, Delta honed his skills to a razors edge. Although highly trained and skilled with all manner of small arms and explosives, Black trained Delta to carry out his missions hand to hand or at the end of a sword in order to leave no trace of their presence. It is now known that much of the training focused heavily Bushido, a philosophy which Delta carries to this day. It is believed Delta was “recruited” for his proficiency with a blade, but no evidence of this exists. The exact operational details of Delta’s first three missions are not known, however, from sources we have gleaned that all three resulted in the successful capture, interrogation, and “neutralization” of the targets and prosecution of his missions. Moreover, we learned that as the missions progressed the target’s connection to the various plots became… questionable as well as the need for secrecy and the use of Delta’s particular skills. By his forth operation, Delta had begun to question the necessity of his actions, however, his fierce loyalty to Longbow and his sense of duty and honor bound him to the organization, as well as the overriding belief that ultimately his actions were for the greater good.
One day, Longbow Guardians intercepted individuals who were involved in attempted sabotage of critical city infrastructure. Soon after Longbow was called in to investigate a rash of bizarre and suspicious suicides. It was determined that the suicides and attempted sabotage were the result of mind control. Black was mobilized and Delta deployed to gather information and neutralize the threat to Paragon. This became known as Operation Nest. It was determined that a group of telepaths had assembled and were using their collective power to control individuals in an ever expanding effort to control all of Paragon’s citizens. Through information from various sources and Longbow Chief of Intelligence, L. Steven Wall, Delta tracked the telepaths to the Galaxy City Hospital. There, Delta learned that the telepaths Longbow was investigating was a group of coma patients. Delta learned that of the 23 coma patients in the Brain Trauma Ward of Galaxy City Hospital, 8 were telepaths. One of the eight, a young woman named Naomi Springer, had powerful but latent telepathic powers. Over her years in a persistent vegetative state, her powers grew unbeknownst to all. While in a coma, her mind reached out to others. When she made contact with the other telepaths in the ward her powers, and those of the other telepaths grew and their minds expanded beyond the hospital and out into Paragon City. None of the telepaths that Delta was sent to stop had any way of controlling their powers. Their actions were the involuntary reflexes of the most primitive portions of their minds. All 8 telepaths were in persistent vegetative states with no hope of revival. On orders from the Cadre, Delta injected the IV’s of all 8 telepaths with cyanide. According to the Cadre, no other options were available to suppress the mind control of the telepaths.
Following the events of Operation Nest, both Delta and Longbow questioned their convictions. Longbow, after certain key resignations, ultimately found it could live with such acts. Delta, however, was tortured by his actions. Delta began investigating the Cadre’s decision in the operation. He learned that several options were available, but scraped as they would involve bringing more individuals. The Cadre ordered the assassination in order to prevent knowledge of the operation from leaking. Delta could not reconcile his actions nor could he continue to justify his involvement with an organization who could fail to protect those who needed protection most of all. So, on 1 December 2001, Delta officially went rogue. Before leaving the farm, Delta took the few records that existed on project Black as well as equipment and supplies. Longbow pursued Delta for a short time but quickly broke off their search.
After going rogue, Delta maintained the mantle of the Longbow Black project. He continued protecting Paragon and “fighting the good fight.” Longbow broke off their search, not because Delta had the ability to bring down the organization but because he continued to do his part in keeping the city safe. Make no mistake; Delta has no compunction about taking the life of a villain if it is necessary. But first and foremost, Delta is a Longbow, he is charged to bring to justice those who would threaten Paragon. And so, Delta, carrying the name Longbow Black, fights the fight to hold back the chaos that creeps in the shadows.