Blood Will Spill [CVnU Empire Claim IC]

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Apex_

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@lunahawk: @soterichor: @thisisgonnahurt: @femme_finale: @hound_of_war: @ali_sani_bashir: @cassius_knightfall: @last_guardian:

The fight was coming to an end, looking like soon every star player remaining would converge on this one point. Her arrow not having enough time to prime the HEAT round proper was caught mid flight. It's theatric element going off in a futile moment, much to the archers frustration. She wasn't known to miss, and so when she did there was a fusion of spite and excitement at the fact. Her other arrow came to an ineffectual short striking the armored opposition but not piercing. "Sometimes I wish they did ware latex and unitards." It was nothing new, to see the shortcomings of fighting metahumans but that didn't make it less annoying.

However the falling building was blown skyward into another shower of debris and collapsing structure. The mix up gave the archer time to observe and prepare. At around the same time the ships were falling and a side was pulling back. Raising her hand Alex crafted a portal to find they were back in working order. She didn't want to see this team in pursuit of the winter spy die, with her ability back in working order perhaps she wouldn't need to. In a run out pacing likely any athlete the officer was running her way. The feline target of the spy was locked once more in combat, and the ghost engaged by one of the winged warriors and the emerald eliminator. As for the armored bat themed figure he was launching into a monologue.

It was some what contradicting to the archer. Make a point of a fallen building, but don't adress the craters from godly blows, the decimated city blocks from artillery, the ravaged land scape from metal manipulation and so on. Mention the forces that'd come, one of them Iceland. It was hard to sell being here for the better if willing to throw those recovering back into conflict. Mostly though Alex just scoffed cause she entered willing to talk, and got shot in the head. It was a strategy she already knew would fail even if done in fewer words.

Drawing another arrow the archer took aim at what came off as the leader of this particular team. Fast as a bullet it raced for center mass, it's obsidian tip likely would go nowhere when it came to damage. But it wasn't intended to, rather the arrow used the cloaking technology of Maverick gear and weapons becoming invisible to the dominant spectrums of light the world was seen in. Almost as soon as it began to pierce the air the arrow became invisible. Once it came into contact or close enough it would open a portal. The rift looking to swallow Ali and send him to somewhere In the Mediterranean Sea.

Collapsing her bow the archer then retrieved her pick axes their blades vibranium and with a fine edge she looked down to the wall running officer. "Love the persistence" she remarked with a wink before jumping off the roof looking to intercept the gravity defying dash. However with an accuracy hard to match she performed a teleportation right before they'd likely meet intending to change her position. A disorienting bright portal consuming her and opening above the vertical foe. Where Alex would look to plant her blades into the soldiers of the foe and pull her down. Into a new portal leading to where Alex had tried to send Ali. With any luck two of the targets would be gone before the fight entered another round of viscera and confrontation.

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Last_Guardian

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#152  Edited By Last_Guardian

Glancing to the right, I see the Shadow Panther standing proudly at my side. He speaks the truth. The numbers are no longer in our favor; they never were, but now that the dust has settled it's almost overwhelming. Almost.

The commotion created by the resurgent powerhouse (@femme_finale) catches my attention.“Flock. Why can’t people just learn to stay down?” Tons of debris is vaulted straight into the chilly Icelandic air, ready to rain down on all those congregated in the newest battleground, including those I would call allies.

For a moment, I close my eyes, attempting to center myself, acutely aware that what I’m about to attempt will command my undivided attention, a notion that is almost suicidal in an active war zone such as this.

No Caption Provided

My hands shoot up and, immediately, I feel the weight of the debris against my open palms. Mustering the full measure of my telekinetic strength, I shout to the heavens. The exertion is almost painful but when I open my eyes, I proudly regard the fruit of my labor. Hundreds of pieces of broken building hover above me, slaves to my mastery in the Force.

Moving my arms as if violently swinging a shovel, I send the wreckage flying out towards the open ocean. "That...was impressive," I tell myself, soon regretting my fleeting moment of presumption.

The optical blast crashes against my body and I'm lifted high above the ground. Mercifully, I finally land a few dozen yards away, my body convulsing as I'm overtaken by sheer agony. A wild series of electric jolts shoot through my cerebral cortex coaxing repressed memories of the past to replay in my mind's eye. Tears stream down my cheeks and puddle on the pavement below as my embattled body, sustained by the Force, struggles to repair its growing afflictions.

In this moment of trauma, I'm gifted with a glimpse into the future. It's all so vivid, so realistic, it is a Force Vision.

Desolate streets are lined with bodies as the sounds of battle intermingle with the cries of children. Soldiers proudly displaying the flag of the United States of America on their uniforms take aim at a crowd of unarmed innocents. They pull their triggers, men and women shielding their young as they accept their fate. But the bullets never make it to their destination. Instead, they crash against a metallic shield; a shield adorned in red, white, and blue, a shield that rests in my very own hands.

It's in that moment that I am convinced that today is not the day I die. I’m destined to persevere, destined to fight...

...destined to rebel.
...destined to rebel.

My eyes jolt open as the Vision fades into nothingness. Under my white mask, the tears on my cheeks have already dried, replaced by a cocksure grin that stretches across my shrouded face. The pain is still there, and my costume now looks more scarlet than its regular white or grey, yet still, life courses through my veins, a renewed purpose bolstering me as I stand on my weary legs.

The brief moment of respite is cut short when the unavoidable miniature-missile attack from the Armored Menace (@hound_of_war) is fired my way. It's only by the grace of a higher power that I see myself lifted off the ground, completely out of harm's way.

It takes me a moment to realize that I'm being carried by yet another assailant (@lunahawk.) Expertly, she wraps her body around me at just the right angle so as to limit my movements. Soon, I'm let down atop a building, far away from the truculent melee.

The second my feet touch down, I spin around, looking to attack my captor and unwitting savior, but once my eyes meet the lustrous feathery wings protruding from her back, I hesitate. She is a well-known hero. One of the few that I've subconsciously filed away as exceedingly worthy of my admiration. Against my better judgment, I, for the first time today, try a radical new approach: diplomacy.

“Listen, I understand what it may look like but my allies and I aren't fighting in defense of Iceland. In fact, we don't really give a shit about Iceland. What we do care about is the truth."

"The man in the mask.." I begin, pointing in the general direction of Cassius Knightfall. "....He's the man who murdered the six American ambassadors in Gothic City, but he didn't do under his own volition. Someone’s gotten in his mind, someone powerful; a threat just as dangerous as Iceland could ever be. We want to expose this hidden power and show the world - and the United States - that they lie in bed with terrorists."

I take a step forward, watching my two allies in the midst of their individual battles against the fevered opposition. "I know you’re a good person, so join us in exposing the puppeteer."

"Or not. But don’t stand in the way of justice."

My verdant swoop bike again joins my side and without as much as a look back, I jump on to it, riding it to my rightful place in the heart of the maelstrom, only to see the Armored Sentinel pulling himself from the rubble. “Goddamnit.” I slide off the vehicle and stand to the right of @ali_sani_bashir, ready to join him for Round 2.

The mention of my name catches me off guard, but only for a moment. I knew the risk I was taking when I first undertook this mission and now that I'm in the thick of things, there's no way these threats, as grave as they are, are going to make me submit.

While the Vibranium Warrior speaks, I can perceive the minuscule tell-tale signs of fatigue in his voice. Had it not been for the Bashir Bishop, I would likely still be in Gothic, running in circles, waiting for my next lead to magically fall in my lap. This man is a worthy ally, for now and for the future.

My mind drifts to the other individual who has so bravely stood with us, the ravishing Cassandra Knight (@soterichor) who has proved her mettle more than anyone could imagine. I can't help but hope that I will be able to bask in her presence in happier times, as I have in war.

"We are not here for your wah. We are here for dee assassin. Move. Or you will be moved."

- Ali Sani Bashir

Hands reaching for my hood, I find myself uninterested in how my sudden movement may be perceived. This whole time I’ve been playing a role, calling myself "The Ghost," as I did when I was just a kid busting drug dealers in the streets of Los Angeles. I can no longer fight who I really am.

I lower my hood, allowing all those around to regard the splendor of my beaten and bloodied face. Now at the peak of my lucidity, I accept that I am a man with nothing left to lose.

And it feels great
And it feels great

“You heard the man," I add, standing in solidarity with the False Bay Luminary. "Move. Or you will be moved.”

My senses overcome me and my hand shoots up instinctively, attempting to intercept an invisible projectile meant for my Brother-in-Arms, redirecting its deadly trajectory towards an empty wall nearby. (@apex_)

Turning back, my tired eyes focus on the dust cloud that accompanies a thundering crash of metal in the distance."Besides. It looks like you might have more pressing matters to attend to."

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Ziccarra_Liafador

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"..."

With the time she'd spent out of the fight, the blistering pain in her ears, and the blood pouring from her eyes healed to some degree. But it could be days before they were functioning naturally.

Despite laying stagnant for the largest part of the day, Ziccarra had 0 knowledge of how she managed to make it from the Ocean back to the mainland. Perhaps a misplaced bomb, or a rugged ocean current; plenty of hypothesis, but none solid enough to credit.

As her pacific blue eyes returned to consciousness, she was easily able to see that in her "slumber" much had happened. Most of the fighting had moved inland, though her efforts took a few of the naval fleet out of action. They still managed to play a big role.

"We underestimated him" She murmured, knowing full well it was The Goddess, not her. Pushing lethargically from the coastline, Ziccarra rose with a staggered posture wincing in apparent pain. It was a blessing, she was not bothered while she was out of the fight, but it was time to return the favor.

"Ziccarra" a voice rang loud in her head. A telepathic message from Charlie. "What tis is Charles?" her voice was heavily impeded by her thick Iberian inflection, but the shock her body took didn't help either. "I never asked you. What was the reason you joined that War in the first place?" She wince again, sluggish wince she replied in Spanish. "A ver una caída del Imperio." His Psionic energy actually fed her body, on occasions like these The Cardinal Goddess thrived on fighting other super-powered beings. She was essentially a conduit for energy, taking massive amounts of damage that'd ultimately allow her to enhance her own abilities. They hadn't properly scouted the masked commander, his lack of powers coupled with his innovativeness left the Goddess searching for answer. Though it wouldn't happen again.

Her Psionic Drain, began feeding her body energy. Almost like nutrients. Rising to full form, she had to complete the mission. An empire was to fall. "But you're fighting WITH Iceland." Charlie responded wondering if she had some sort of concussion. "I am not fighting with Iceland, I am fighting against the United States." There was no further response from the other side rather the sound of Ziccarra going airborne; creating static between the two of them.

Heading north of her current location, her intentions were to finish what she started with the Masked Baron, but finding him in this chaotic atmosphere would be problematic. Flying overhead, her ears perked as she was just barley able to make out a rather large confrontation, near the ruins of a toppled building.

Lightning formed overhead, "Not...again..." Ziccarra whispered, realizing something about this conflict called for Goddess intervention. In mid-flight, an earth shattering lightning bolt hit her athletic slim frame once again transforming Ziccarra into the Goddess. Spiraling toward the ground in an impressive layout consisting of 720 degree twist, Her Crimson Boots hits the ground intentionally sending a tremor through the already turbulent surface.

There were many to chose from, none of which she could say she'd met; but one thing in particular caught her ear. The lies of a presumed enemy.

Your face will be on every news station over the U.S

As the "negotiations" continued, The Goddess began psionically charging her Aegis Shield. The ornate energy seep through every rune of the Divine Shield until it was ready to go. Her eyes cut just in time to see magnificent display of aerial display of @last_guardian avoiding what seemed to be a problematic missile attack. Honing in, The Goddess heave her shield toward the U.S Emissary (Unknown to her was actually the POTUS) @hound_of_war.

Her shield served as a distraction, her truest gambit rest on her face. The Mask of Cortez. Honing in on him, and him only, she sought to separate him from the battle completely. Same setting, except if it worked, he'd be only tasked with fighting her.

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Supreme_Chancellor

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"It's over, X."

No Caption Provided

Clara's words barely registered within the Supreme Chancellor's shattered mind, his mental welfare far too fatigued by his injuries sustained in the lethal skirmish with the deceased ruler of Iceland, Hadrian Knightfall.

As Clarice spoke X did look up, somewhat, but rather than looking towards Clara it was as though the Devil's Heir looked through Clarice. As though she was a mere ghost.

The battle had been arduous, but victory rightly claimed. Clarity overtook the Chancellors son as he heard the battle overhead slowly drawing to a close, the US Forces and allies had been successful in breaking down Iceland's defenses, and with General Kanos thwarted by Lichter; it would be a matter of hours until Iceland was completely under the United States militaristic control, and by proxy, X.

"We finish this right now."

Slowly, the Chancellor's palm shakily grasped Clara's own, taking it softly as he gazed up into her mercurial eyes. "You're right." Telepathically, his mind sent a subconscious prompt to Clarice for a nifty reality warp to revitalize his exhausted body .... It was readily undertaken...

And a split second later they were-

-Standing in front of Jacob "Obi" Grayson.

No Caption Provided

With a harsh clang Hadrian Knightfall's iconic mask fell to the floor in front of Jacob, the Prince of Darkness looking past the Guardian as his jaded eyes looked upon the Vibranium Maharajah. "It's over," casually, the Sociopathic Scion raised a palm, the surreal sound of metal ungracefully bending echoed through the air as it was directed towards the axe wielding foe and stopped his metallic, crude weapon within the air, attempting to push back the would-be assailant and quash the violent atmosphere, his arm then robustly swung outwards once more, sending a magnetic burst of telekinesis energy as Ziccarra's metal shield was flicked across the air and embedded itself into the ground, instead of into the face of the President of the United States, The Black Bat. Her psonic attack, however, was left untouched. He had not come here to boast or test his telepathic might against a virtual God. Instead, he sought to protect the Black Bat's mind and staple him to the current plane of existence, attacking him too, for if he possessed any type of telepathic attack X's own would be functionally refusing him any attempt at utilizing his powers. Independent of success, the Silent Scion looked at Jacob, the Lightforce Warrior

"You have no authority here...."

The new champion of Iceland looked down, clenching a fist as his vibranium dagger levitated beside his left arm, the tip pointing in the direction of Jacob like a snake, slowly turning mid-air, and then towards Ali, and everyone else in turn menacingly.

"I don't care for any assassin," briefly glancing in Cassius' direction, "and I don't care for any American diplomats. But what I do know, is enough blood has been spilled." The Chancellor's Son's words were imbued with weight, clearly beyond playing. "The authorities have the assassin, now stop playing hero and let them do their jobs." Without moving a finger, X attempted to grasp Cassius by his robotic arm and a magnetic field placed around his body, restraining him. He further sent a telepathic bolt of energy into Cassius' mind, hoping to put him to sleep "You do care for justice, correct? If so.... You will have no qualms with this." If successful, Cassius would be dropped behind Julian Knightfall.

No Caption Provided

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Soterichor

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In ways mentally distant from her allies and expecting extreme resistance, Cassandra beat the pavement and devoured the distance between herself and the archer. But the situation was not lost on her, thanks to the extended sight of her psychosomatic copilot. As the battle came to an end elsewhere, the odds continued to stack for the hastily joined trio. And while a hint of her headstrong tendency toward tunnel vision still shone through her actions, in targeting the distant threat the officer sought to make the conflict easier for her comrades as well.

It was her expectation that Alex would do everything in her power to keep the distance and she prepared both to react to incoming fire and to up the ante on her speedy push for proximity. But it seemed she was mistaken. Surprisingly, Ashworth met Cassandra's charge the way a wolverine might a bear or wolf. Although briefly surprised by the charge–teleport there was no falter in her step. Innate combat instincts kicked in and the Sanguine reacted accordingly, quietly holding a respect for the variable tactics of the now-revealed teleporter in departure of the norm.

Cassandra stood in perfect sync with the Rapture. Her body never broke its stride and she gave no physical movements to telegraph. The most she offered was a well-committed feint, making as if to meet Alex with a devastating cross. But just as her foe fell within close proximity the armor itself lashed out. From her chest a bladed, barbed appendage shot from her chest, aimed to strike at her shoulder blades with a force that would shatter the bone of any normal man, causing immense pain and immobilizing the limb. At roughly the same, other similar appendages shot from the armor, grabbing at her limbs. Slashing at the muscles in her arms, another shot to pierce and violently shred through her right quadriceps muscles. Perhaps reneging on her earlier stance, she momentarily abandoned her lethal intent; but her attacks would make on-foot mobility an issue as well as holding - let alone using - her bow and other weapons.

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Hound_of_War

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#159  Edited By Hound_of_War

@apex_: @lunahawk: @soterichor: @thisisgonnahurt: @femme_finale: @hound_of_war: @ali_sani_bashir: @cassius_knightfall: @last_guardian:

As the dust cleared from the wreckage and the fires were being snuffed by the rubble. The face of the assassin was revealed to Julian through the particles blowing through the air, leeching into his monochromatic war machine.

‘Cassius? The assassin? This changes everything. I need to bring him in.. I’m going to have to talk to him. I’m going to have to pretend that everything involving Jayden wasn’t my fault for being a bad father. I don’t know if I can do that. I hate that he’s going to find out this way. I need to find out what he knows.'

No Caption Provided

The ash in the sky was blown away by the thunderous sound of blades. American choppers were arriving to back them up on cue. They began landing on all directions, lowering the doors down like the gates to a lion’s den. The soldier drew their weapons, surrounding the perimeter.

Pointing their semis and sniper rifles at the group of just defenders, who claimed to be here for the assassin yet defended the S.E.D facility against him until it was too late.

“You’re both hypocrites and you don’t even realize it. You wear the symbol and take sides for registration but you don’t even believe in what you preach.”

Interrupting his speech, the reason why his great grandson had passed away had the balls to try to attack him while he was negotiating with Ali and his soon to be terrorist cell. Julian didn’t need facial recognition to know who she was. He had seen her face plenty on CIA dossiers.

Just in time, her shield strike was seemingly and unbeknownst to him so was her psychic attacks. Julian, annoyed by her mere presence did not even attempt to face her. He simply raised his hand and pointed the kinetic beam at her face while the Chancellor tried to push her shield away with his mind like she was just a pest that needed to be simply exterminated.

Should she attempt anything else, Julian would make it mission to beat her so bad that no ancient cardinal spell would bring her back to life this time around.

‘I’m tired of that ***ing family. They think they can get away with anything and that the world will forget about the terrible actions they commit because they put a an inspirational quote by Gandhi as their status’

“You could have informed the proper authorities about your findings like your precious registration act dictates. Instead, you decided to act outside of your jurisdiction and step into mine. That man isn’t going with you because if what you say is true. Then he didn’t kill South African diplomats, he killed American citizens which means he will be interrogated by the American system and judged accordingly.”

“You are not acting as a U.S operative, so you better change back into your old costume and put down that ****ing shield before I feed it to you, Grayson.”

“I’m not the one who’s in the way of anything. He’s coming with me. Not with Iceland. Not with you. This isn’t a question or a request.”

The sniper rifles pointed aimed their laser sights at their heads and chests, waiting on a sudden movement to blow their brains out with their Maverick specialized rifles.

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LunaHawk

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@hound_of_war: @apex_: @soterichor: @thisisgonnahurt: @femme_finale: @hound_of_war: @ali_sani_bashir:@cassius_knightfall: @last_guardian:

Luna Hawk watched the man go, surprised by his words.

No Caption Provided

If they're not defending Iceland why the hell are we fighting them? Her eyes scanned over the horizon, taking in the sight of the war ravaged coast, the crash landed ship and the Icelandic troops now beginning to surrender en mass. I hope this was worth it..but I have a sinking feeling. She took off and flew more casually towards where everyone was gathering and landed at @hound_of_war 's side. She didn't need to issue any more commands, the leadership of the Hawk Lord Legion began to land all around them, forming a perimeter along with the US Special forces, though they aimed no weapons at anyone, they didn't need to.

Luna Hawk listened to the conversation and quietly removed her helmet.

No Caption Provided

"Can we all agree the fighting is over now?" She asked both sides. "I'm sure some sort of mutually beneficial arrangement can be made in regards to whoever this is." She said with a gesture to Cassius. As a foreign fighter here on lone from Thanagar she had no information what so ever about the Cassius subplot, thus her belief they had been fighting on the side of Iceland.

"The skies over Iceland are ours, the troops defending Iceland are surrendering and this man you're all so interested in is now more or less in custody. Let him return to the United States where events will be investigated and make the usual diplomatic appeals for access to him as well. Perhaps you can work with the United States Justice Department to further the investigation with whatever knowledge you've acquired so far."

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Ali_Sani_Bashir

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@cassius_knightfall:@supreme_chancellor: @ziccarra_liafador: @last_guardian: @apex_: @soterichor: @femme_finale: @hound_of_war: @lunahawk:

Individual conflicts raged on amongst the corpses and carnage, spreading the unified squad thin, but unbroken. The problematic archer still on the loose, still managing to elusively evade the unique GCPD's rookie cop while coming dangerously close in her attempts to remove the Pankration Panther from the battle-field all together. And would have, had it not been for the quick telekinetic interception of her modified arrow courtesy of the team's resident mind bender, the Ghost. Himself a continuous target of the deadly and resurfaced femme fatale.

*Clank

"Its Over!"

The un-announced interruption caused Ali to look up, still clutching his wounded abdomen yet unyielding in his defiant posture as he stared at the hovering Mutant X. Sub-consciously pushing down the anger he felt as it threatened to overrun his collected stoicism. The fractured foundation of their fleeting friendship was not enough to allow Ali to stomach another prolonged speech on morality, justice, or hypocrisy.

"Now you care?" he sardonically thought with silent mediation. Photographically recalling the senseless murder of not one, but two French citizens who he had theorized had fallen victim to the Weapon X's extreme views on humanity. Long before the escalation of war had taken hold of the self-titled Utopia. As well as how his direct actions and unseen hand had tipped the balance for those already on the verge.

No surprise however, the United States had never been one to allow due-process or facts to stand in the way of a good old fashion invasion. Swiftly followed by the instillation of hand-picked puppet regimes eager to aid in the mutual self-destruction of any who dared conceal an antagonistic thought. However the Chancellor was nobody's puppet, he was a killer with a full vindictive hatred for anyone, or thing, not harboring a prized x-gene. Ultimately leaving the Vibranium Maharajah with little doubt that those in support of his new claimed power were fully aware of his intent and character, but simply didnt care.

As one speech concluded another one began, and the panther had long since passed the point of pretending to care what the echoed ramblings of whomever was behind the iron mask had to say, or his former friend for that matter. The level of disconnect had been evident. The misinformed metal mountain of some sort of military cache, masked his tragic missteps with arrogance and diluted confidence.

Attacking first then demanding submission and diplomacy. But only after having been made to realize he was protecting the very political assassin who had ignited the invasion in the first place. The same assassin in fact the unknown iron-man had openly extended a helping hand to, literally. Help he had seen fit to prolong right up until they, the group he had so eagerly been ready to label as terrorists, pointed out his unbelievable error.

No Caption Provided

So now under the threat of American intimidation, global sanctions, and character assassination, the squad was suppose to bend a knee and grant the U.S. the benefit of the doubt? Not a chance in a hell. Sentiments apparently shared by others outside the squad's immediate sphere of dissension. As a disc like object had been sent screaming towards the unknown POTUS, only to be rendered ineffectual in its offensive attempt by the murderous magneto himself.

Yet the rebellious mentality had still been put on visual display, the urge to fight the good fight still remained. For Ali being a hero wasnt something one attempted to do, wasnt something one played at, and it certainly wasn't something a United States official and a mutant extremists could ever hope to take away or tarnish. In fact the entire notion was something the Warden of the False Bay had never subscribed to. He was neither hero nor villain, good or evil. Such misnomers allowed one's ego and sense of self-worth to be high-jacked and ransomed. Used as a weakness by those who traded on the stock of such misinterpreted titles and self-serving ideals. Ali's constitution was stronger then that, stronger then apparently given credit for.

As each bird touched down regurgitating a nauseating stream of armed and readied personnel, there seemed little tactical recourse for the new faces of organized terror. Out-manned, gunned, and numbered, Ali apologetically looked over at Ghost. Slow and cautious, arms raised, the removal of the Bashir's Habit preceded his apparent surrender.

But then with an instantaneous flick of the guardian's finger, Ali was hurled towards the fatigued Chancellor absent the protection or metallic hindrance of his Habit. His aerial trajectory having been violently ignited by the Ghost's subtle telekinetic burst.

No Caption Provided

Ambidextrously facilitating the panther's transformation into a human projectile, the aim being a wrestling style spear which would allow Ali to get his hands on his lifelong friend before suffering the effects of his telepathic mind. In chorus with a simultaneous pull of TK that would strip the arriving soldier's of their weapons, yanking them free from their trained grasp as to further Ali's dart-like attack on the Mutant X.

If successful, even moderately so, the window of exploitative experience would be opened. Ali would seek to physically subdue the new empowered ruler of Iceland, while leaving the fresh arrival of troops unarmed. By extension the wide open bay doors of the military sized helicopters would be left unprotected. Turning the mission once again into a potential snatch and grab freestyle of improvisation. A Z-Squad specialty.

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Supreme_Chancellor

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"Now you care?"

The Maestro of Magnetism did not require telepathy to understand the Bashir Bishop's inner thoughts. A lifetime of friendship had naturally imparted that wisdom within him. Ali was the only soul alive to know who X was the true descendant of - A secret guarded so tightly that not even the Shogunate of Venezuela -- The very Queen he had sworn to work for as Ambassador to Venezuela was enlightened about. Ironically, a woman who had killed his father too. Weapon X watched as the Bashir cautiously removed his Habit. "I always did." He watched as the vibranium weaved fibers left his former brother's body, guessing what exactly what was to come next. Ali was as stubborn as he was intelligent. Both men knew that for their chosen cause? Death was the only enemy which could ultimately force them to surrender it.

"You....arree------...."

Time froze as the Mutant Maestro sped up his cognition mid-sentence, amplified by both telepathy and electromagnetic dominance over his mind, the Bashir Bishop sprung forth from his position like a panther ready to devour; ready to land the killing blow.

Undoubtedly, the Prince of Darkness was ridiculously out-skilled by his cerebral counterpart's devastatingly impressive martial arts capabilities. The Icelandic 'Liberator' had found Hadrian Knightfall a challenge to best? Attempting to defeat Ali San Bashir in hand-to-hand in comparison would be like trying to out wrestle a bear with two hands tied behind your back.

No Caption Provided

What X lacked for in martial proficiency however; he compensate for a thousand times over with vaunted genetic superiority. The knife that hung within the air like a viper eager to strike blitzed towards Ali as he turned himself into a human projectile, the knife changing structure mid-air, the cross guards unnaturally contorting as they bent inwards for aerodynamic ascendancy, the entire vibranium dagger now faster than a speeding bullet and as thin as a pencil, it sought to penetrate Ali's exposed abdomen and embed itself within his body, if it was successful, the blade would anchor itself within his body and curve into a sickle like shape, rendering any chance of ripping itself free without surgical precision and skill a certified death-wish.

Within a fraction of a fraction of a second, the Telepathic Monarch sought to passively enter Ali's mind, not damaging nor attacking, merely speaking directly to the communication regions of his brain. Surpassing the language detectors and almost speaking to his former friends subconsciousness, it was uncertain if Ali would even hear the words -- Merely comprehending the feeling they would impart. "There is more at play here than you know, forces beyond either of our personal indignation -- You are making a mistake."

Then just like that, time took control once more as the Great Bishop lay waste to X's helmeted face. There was no chance at defending, no physical counter plays or tactical defenses. Ali outmatched Mutant X as though he was beating upon a defenseless boxing bag. Blow after blow landed, technique after technique bestowed a combative display of dominance as the Vibranium King expertly restrained his bygone brothers physical body, a beating which was truthfully long overdue.

And in a move which most may have considered blasphemy or cheating, the Sociopathic Scion sought to use his genetic gifts, if that dagger had successfully landed within his brother? He would not drive it deeper into his sternum nor heart, nothing with fatal intent at all, simply an attempt at eluding this unmitigated beating as a magnetic pulse of energy was shot forward, trying to propel Ali away and off of his person.

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Clara Mass

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#164  Edited By Clara Mass

It's your choice, Clarice Michelle.

Her skin crawled as her thoughts scrambled about. Exerting her powers beyond their normal parameters weakened her mental state, which in turn created this state of vulnerability. For starters she wasn't sure what she was doing here anymore. Since the beginning of this conflict she assured herself she was only helping Weapon X as a means to end, but here she stayed.

He didn't deserve her assistance. Her mind race around, avoiding the thought of caring about someone other than her own blood. She hated the notion that he'd left an impression on her. This conflict of interest felt as though the world was put on pause, but time slowing down was more literal than she could have imagined.

@supreme_chancellor attacked the wild combatant known as @ali_sani_bashir between seconds of time. For Clarice the action played like watching a snail in motion. However, she wouldn't interfere. Her connection to reality kept her on a different playing field then the rest of her company. She understood that suddenly interjecting herself into the situation at hand would stray this event from its intended conclusion. As a result, she waited. Yet, not without temptation.

This is child's play and you know it. END THEM ALL!

@soterichor@hound_of_war@cassius_knightfall@lunahawk@femme_finale

"I can't believe we're fighting over him. Cassius Knightfall of all the Knightfalls." Miss Pierce materialized whilst her ally received a beating worth pay-per-view billing. She snickered, but she knew he'd handle himself well enough. Until her assistance was required her intrigue settled on the least interesting of the Knightfall lot who'd somehow managed to become a main event player during her ill-timed sabbatical.

She's impressed if not amazed by Jayden Knightfall's soil deposits having this knack for being a part of every single mutant related conflict for the last few years. It's commendable to say the least.

Nevertheless, the ex-president stepped forward and waved at the obviously tainted Knightfall.

"Remember me, sweetheart?" Cockiness got the best of her and Miss Pierce sent a barrage of imagery toward the Knightfall seedling. Pictures of her presidential term that involved the capture of Quintus Knightfall and the desecration of the Knightfal residency. He'd feel her intense disgust of the Knightfall name and what they represented, hoping the attack would scramble his train of thought and maybe even immobilize him. For everyone in attendance, however, it'd appear as though the strange companion of Weapon X was acting on his behalf.

All of this tired her more than she'd like, but having an sort of impact on the ending of this story was far too tempting to avoid. While she waited for any type of reaction, Miss Pierce looked in the direction of the United States' new president. With a wickedly cool smirk the ex-president playfully winked before returning her sight to the @last_guardian in blood stained clothing.

"Boy! You're so cute," she murmured before focusing her powers of reality on the only being that she perceived as being the obstacle that'd prevent this event from reaching a swift end. "Acting all heroic and whatnot." Her violet eyes illuminated a bright white light as she commanded telekinetic forces to encase the would be hero in a cylindrical prison. Afterwards, she'd attempt to drain all air from the prison to suffocate the poor fool into submission. All the while the prison itself would spin counterclockwise, making any chance at gasping for air impossible.

So, the only thing that'd stop this from working is if the pretty boy hero had enough power to shatter her telekinetic prison with his own powers or if someone else broke her focus and outright attacked her. All of this was in the realm of possibility, especially considering the fact that she wasn't in the best state of mind. At this point the adrenaline was the only thing pushing her forward. And for now it was enough to keep her standing.

"Makes me almost feel bad...well almost."

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Last_Guardian

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#165  Edited By Last_Guardian

@supreme_chancellor:

"You have no authority here...."

I watch the dagger float menacingly in the air. By the subtle way it hums as it moves, I recognize it as pure Vibranium, one of the most unique metals on Earth.

A strange electricity picks up all around us as the Mutant Mastermind flicks his finger in an attempt to seize control of @cassius_knightfall's body. Instantly, I counter, attempting to telekineticaly pull the assassin away to prevent him from again falling under X’s control. One more time, I endeavor to use my telepathy on Cassius, hoping to disperse the fog clouding his troubled mind once and for all.

With my telepathic skills not as refined as I would like, the most I can do is send a repeating thought into his subconscious, hoping that he'll pick up on it and perhaps accept it as his own thought. <“You’re not a puppet, Cassius. Fight with us. You're nobody's attack dog. Fight with us!">

"Fight with Us."

As I do this, my eyes lock onto the iron behemoth (@hound_of_war), keenly aware of the sound of helicopters landing all around our fated cabal. The Black Bat’s tireless discourse is delivered flawlessly, replete with utter conviction. It’s clear that a good man sits inside that armor. Perhaps a frightened man, forced into fighting for his country, oblivious of the fact that this country has just handed over a jewel-encrusted crown to a mutant extremist with no moral compass. In the arena of Gods, all good men are just spokes on the wheels of an ill-fated chariot .

"Listen, Iron Giant. I understand you’re a soldier. I know you’re fighting for what you think is right, but there’s a conspiracy afoot. Cassius Knightfall is not in control. Look at him. He wasn’t in control when he killed those U.S. emissaries either. Ask yourself who has the means to twist a man like this to do their bidding? Who has gained the most from this war?"

The arrival of the Hawk Lords, providing yet another layer of intrigue does nothing to deter my confident proclamation."No, @lunahawk, I'm afraid the fighting is far from over. It’s just begun. You've helped seize an Empire from a very dangerous man, only to hand it to another very dangerous man."

"Is this what the United States represents now?" I yell, my body begging me to just lay down and die while my eyes once again fall to the man in the metal suit. "No. I'm sorry, but this isn't the America I know."

From seemingly out of nowhere, a Warrior Queen, leaps into action, causing a brief interruption to the proceedings. She attacks valiantly and is dispatched all too quickly. Though unaware of what this valkyrie's motivations are, I feel the urge to assist her, but what follows happens much too quickly.

I am not fooled by a second as @ali_sani_bashirraises his hands in a show of surrender. I can sense his emotions. I know that he wants this worse than even I do. His apologetic look my way is a clever wink, shared between two soldiers who have quickly forged an incomparable bond in the face of insurmountable odds.

But then with an instantaneous flick of the guardian's finger, Ali was hurled towards the fatigued Chancellor absent the protection or metallic hindrance of his Habit. His aerial trajectory having been violently ignited by the Ghost's subtle telekinetic burst.

With that, the line is drawn. There's no going back now, if there ever was. A cacophony of clicks emanating from the sniper rifles of one hundred soldiers fills the air. A display of telekinetic acuity rivaling any feat that I've performed to date follows as I pull the rifles straight from the hands of these soldiers. I turn the rifles 180 degrees, pointing the barrels at the very same men that moments ago had stood ready to fire upon us. Even if I could, I'd never pull the trigger, but I know that a gun in one's face is enough to stop even the most defiant of patriots.

A quick glance from the fearless leader of the Z Fighters tells me everything I need to know. It's time to move out.

<“Cassius!">I mentally convey, attempting to invade the privacy of the assassin's disturbed mind a second time. <"We leave now. Come with us and I promise you that I will see those that have done you wrong brought to just---.”>

Suddenly, I feel another telepathic presence (@clara_mass) and I am forced to helplessly observe her ensuing bombardment of vivid imagery which she uses to assault the embattled Knightfall. "Who the hell are you?"

I open my eyes too late. Already, cosmic forces seek to separate me from the outside world, capturing me in a cylindrical vortex of oxygen-deficiency. Before, the last gusts of air escape my lungs, I close my fingers, tightening my telekinetic grip on the rifles I had earlier seized.

The mass of firearms converges high above the scene before I direct them at my attacker in a stream of heavy weaponry, hoping to bury her under the deluge. Focusing my own telekinetic energy. I then expel it powerfully from my body in a circular wave that absolutely shatters the confines of the prison. I gasp, feeling the precious air reuniting with my lungs.

Regardless of whether the storm of rifles worked, I would not be pressing on in the confrontation, my window of opportunity quickly closing. I make my move, a crackle of Force Lightning rendering a small group of soldiers standing before me unconscious as I Force Jump into one of the jet-black U.S. military helicopters (uh oh).

I look out into the storm of combat and see my allies fighting off their respective foes. As the helicopter hovers off the ground, I pull at each ally (@soterichor), timing my action just right to a avoid infringing on one of their offensive attacks. I follow this up with a tug at Cassius Knightfall, hoping that the combined efforts of my telepathic message and my physical maneuvering will be enough to coax him into the aircraft. Momentarily, my mind wanders to one more individual: the Cardinal Goddess (@ziccarra_liafador) who had so bravely attacked the Armored Sentinel moments ago. Locking onto her position, I send a last TK pull her way in an attempt to clue her in on our current getaway.

GET TO DA CHOPPA!
GET TO DA CHOPPA!

With the military helicopter gaining in altitude. I look back to the Winged Warrior, Luna Hawk, and her army of Hawk Lords, knowing that they are one of the last entities with the power to stop our escape. In a show of silent solidarity, I bring my hand to my forehead and salute her, hoping that she will choose the righteous path and either cover us or simply allow us to leave.

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Apex_

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The speed of thought was relatively that of the armor worn by the Gothic police officer. What she thought came into play with a symbiotic precision hard for most to see or match. But Alex wasn't like most more important then her exosuit or bow, then the quiver and every clever arrowhead she could use, more influential then even her teleportation was her sight. Eyes that operated at a constant speed, that could spot every flutter of a humming birds wings. Her accuracy and reflexes made practically super human by means of visually gifted genes. She could see the actions of the armor when they came which would allow her to endure the coming fight better then expected. Though it was only by the officers choosing some could argue given that if her incredible cutting ability had been in play the result would have been entirely different.

The cross was a feint from the wall running for but that didn't really matter given the archer's choice in motion. The spear like protrusion came at a forward angle toward the chest of the archer and the skies above. She teleported though to be above the officer near the point the two would of collided. The blade passed through the air but the spikes more free roaming in their lashing movement faired a bit better. Seeing where they came from as they sprouted the archer tried to twist to minimize contact. Such an action however ended the move of the archer stopping attack as she was forced into playing defense.

Blades cut into the exosuit they didn't sink into flesh but their sting was felt. Arms and legs of the archer ravaged in minor lacerations. Not enough to stifle action but enough to make any further action sting. Direction of the portal was changed as the archer dropped in plan for her next move. That action was cut short however hailing from the direction of a helicopter. To close to the officer to be ignored by the force. Being above her on vertical plane Alex to was pulled toward the helicopter, though not without discomfort. It was meant to be safe for the armored officer the archer slamming into a seat with far more of an impact and a grunt of pain. Instead of drawing arms though on those gathered she moved to put weapons away. In her hands instead a portal.

"I think we got off on the wrong foot. I want answers, just didn't think a war was the best time. And figured better a questionable king then a mad one." Alex didn't think they were anywhere near the last step to mankind being more unified. Moments like this brought it closer however. Behind the scenes work was always in play however and it was in the Maverick archer's nature to question. "So you want an out or to be in a helicopter that X will crash soon?" The telkenesis the ghost had was incredible but Alex didn't think it'd fair well holding up the potential metal tomb the group was in.

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Cassius_Knightfall

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@clara_mass@ziccarra_liafador: @soterichor: @ali_sani_bashir: @last_guardian: @supreme_chancellor

The weaponised warrior was deep set in confusion. The conflict momentarily stopped as more and more people appeared rapidly across the battlefield. A woman's voice speaking in his ear her tone laced with mockery and arrogance. A ghost of a memory trying to escape lost deep within his consciousness tieing this voice to his mind. His silence broken with a stare in her direction his gaze looking down on her like an insect , she was inconsequential she was less than relevant, she was neither a threat nor an issue. A Small retort leaving his mouth at the question she posed "Remember me?" Raising his arm and firing a shot in her direction as he spoke.

The shot going wide as he suddenly pulled to one side his hand rising to his temples. A chorus of voices talking in his head the women his master and his enemy in blue. Each trying to control or speak to his mind, his own consciousness still slugging it out somewhere even further back in his grey matter. The bombardment causing him to stagger around and fall to his knees. His mind felt like it was being torn apart as a the four forces waged war on the mental battleground. His body all but shutting down as every fibre of himself lost its primary input removed as his brain conflicted with itself over and over. Every second a living agony causing his crumpled body to writhe in pain till it just stopped. His brain draining a blank his body all but stationary as a burst of telepathic energy erupted from his body, the combating voices ejected from his thoughts their messages and their attempts of control ousted from their battleground. Reaching out with his right arm he slowly began to pull himself back to his feet, a small crater having been created around him as the blast emanated out from his head.

Getting to his feet finally looking around completely lost in the world around him and uttering "Where am I" , before crumpling one again to the ground, this time staying there.

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I watched it all happen, the stripping of weapons from soldiers hands, the way he turned them to point at their former owners, the black clad man's launching attack at the man who had instigated all of this and the way Julian went on and on about how wrong everyone else was. It was like watching some sort of sick movie. I sighed as it all unfolded and shook my head. Solar Hawk makes a better diplomat than these idiots and that's saying something.

He's right, this isn't the America I know. Or maybe it is, it's become complicated in the last fifteen years or so. Not long ago I was welcomed as an American citizen with open arms, after 9-11 people saw my skin color and things got a little different. When they eventually learned I was originally from Egypt...I still get people chanting crap like 'go home Muslim' but I also know that most Americans are great people and by and large I love the country and its government...it just seems that as of late the government is as power hungry as the people it claims to oppose. I disagreed with this attack from the start, Iceland isn't a great place and they've certainly done enough to cause the US to go to war, but something always felt off. Now...now someone has revealed to me what it is. The assassin everyone loves to hate was not in his right mind. Unfortunately, I have no say in this, I go where my God tells me. The more he sends me to places like Iceland and Greece, the more I think he's not ready for the modern world or perhaps can't adapt to it at all. We're all products of five thousand years ago...some of us just adapt better I guess.

Grayson gets in a helicopter and prepares to leave with his allies. The leaders of Thanagar's Legion look at me expectantly and I put my helmet back on. "Our job here is over. The war has ended, we came here to support our allies in the war. Whatever...this is..." I say, gesturing to the situation. "Is not our war. Continue to clean up, make sure we have our wounded and dead and help our allies ensure the remaining air forces surrender. After that we're going home."

No Caption Provided

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Clara Mass

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#170  Edited By Clara Mass

"Holy shit!" Clarice exclaimed.

After defending herself from a flurry of weaponry flung in her direction through the use of her adrenaline heightened telekinesis, Miss Pierce's splintered focus left her unable to evade the single gunshot from @cassius_knightfall. And within seconds her clavicle is cracked upon impact when the lone bullet lodged itself into her bone.

Crimson red blood splattered onto her expertly designed costume. A detail though minuscule in scope was enough to contribute to the enraged scream that would bellow outward from Miss Pierce's mouth. "AHH!!" Clarice Michelle hollered with every ounce of her being. Her panicked scream turned telekinetically laced whirlwind of air would smack anyone in close proximity. She was seething in pain, clutching the wounded area as her body worked to purge the foreign projectile.

"Cassius isn't worth the fuss, X!" Although she could only blame herself for being unrecognizable, she was insulted. This strange feeling of embarrassment would work against Miss Pierce as she unknowingly lifted her veil of concealment. Exerting her powers beyond their parameters was beginning to work against her. So much so that untapped energies began to emit around the ex-president as a green aura.

"Leave @ali_sani_bashir and lets go!" Her bouncy brown locks of hair swayed like a L'oreal commercial as she lifted her head up and looked in the direction of her only ally. Anyone who saw her would see the formerly presumed deceased president allying herself with Iceland's freshly minted conquerer. Whether or not that'd hold any kind of consequence in the foreseeable future is yet to be determined, but for now the wounded warrior interfered in whatever scuffle @supreme_chancellor entangled himself in with the intention of teleporting themselves away from the erratic madness stemming from the case of a cold blooded killer.

They'd won this day, she thought to herself. Victors in every sense of the word. So, the least they could do was give these fools the scraps of war their hungry mouths deserved. After all they would be inconsequential in the scheme of things to come. Miss Pierce knew it so.

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Hound_of_War

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#171  Edited By Hound_of_War

Commander Mercer

Like the President, the commander had fought in many wars and seen more death than one should. The scars on his face, creasing across his beard showed years of seeing men die, allies and enemies alike.

War was the only thing that he knew now. He didn’t suffer from PTSD like people who stay in the war for too long. Loud sounds didn’t set him off. No, he suffered from something far greater. He suffered from fear.

For a while he had tried to settle down for a while, he had a wife and a daughter but don’t let this fool you. They’re not dead. Although to him they might as well be, he tried to be a father and husband but he couldn’t.

When he returned home he was anxious, he didn’t quite know what it was. Home didn’t feel like home anymore. He was scared of settling down and getting a gut instead of having them ripped out by a knife. Of becoming useless. He’d rather die than to have someone change his diaper.

So he enlisted, again and again, each time his daughter got older and each time they knew less. Eventually his wife got tired of it so they got divorced and the Commander married his only real wife. War.

Now that his own gun was pointed at him, he cracked a smile and spoke through the intercom.

“Switch to secondary”.

Together, like a dance group that had performed their dance routines over and over again. They all took out their submachine guns and pistols and started firing them at the rebel scum.

The President

No Caption Provided

As the bullets ripped, another one bit the dust. Cassius fell on the ground. Julian wasted no time in making his move.

‘His perception of America the great, that stands for truth and justice is proof of that all the money we spent over the last century on Maddison Avenue has not gone to waste. It a shame that his daydream has to be broken by a dose of reality. America doesn’t dream. America doesn’t sleep. We watch. We make our enemies believe we do to give them a false sense of security and so our civilians have something to look up to.’

“America benefitted the most. We got rid of a madman pointing his WOMDs(Weapons of Mass Destruction) at us, we ended a war and created new allies. You can’t even give peace a chance. You want to start a war out of something that shouldn’t be.” He spoke as his fired a blast from his kinetic blast at Ziccarra’s symmetric face and at the Guardian’s feet with the other hand. Predicting that he couldn’t use the shield to defend himself all the way down there but also because he did not really want to hurt him. Something about him reminded him of Vincent, he has this unrealistic optimistic view of tomorrow that made him feel bad about knowing the truth.

Even if he instigated the last straw between us. We were already going to war with them. They had orbital cannons pointed at us and broke out the ex-VP from federal prison. I can’t respect anyone who is stupid enough to think that even if the assassin had not done what he had done, that we would not have gone to war against Iceland and been completely justified. We would be standing here, except none of these so called “defenders of truth” would be here to play renegades.’

“He will face the consequences of his actions. I can guarantee you that. But not by your hands.”

Julian picked up Cassius from the ground, placing his chest against his shoulder like he was a cadaver. He ran towards Clara with him on his back and held onto her just as she was about to teleport away. Hopefully it was finally over.

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Ali_Sani_Bashir

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With the strategic subscription to a physical altercation successful, the Bashir Bishop was finally able to lay his hands upon his one-time friend. Spearing and driving his shoulder into X's waist with NFL mirrored superiority, his adrenaline having masked the metal manipulated implant now resting beneath the muscular layer of his physique. "WHY DID YOU MAKE ME DO THIS?!?"he wanted to rage as an elbow violently arched across the forehead of his former compatriot. "WHY!!!?" he wanted to thunder as the cup of his hand was driven into the Metal Militant's throat.

Instead, the King of Oprhans said nothing. Self-hating fist after self-hating first finding its home on the pummeled face of the master manipulator, before there was unexpected pause. Simultaneous micro-expressions on behave of both battered and bloodied brothers expressed their individual reactions to the same event. Ali, one of concern, while X's was one of tactical satisfaction. Launching the Warden of the False Bay with but a suggestive twitch of his battle-stained finger, granting himself an instant stay of execution.

Meanwhile, acting and reacting in a chorus of symbiotic combat, the Z-Squad had continued to coordinate themselves with an envious level of unified efficiency. The type of cohesive coordination inspired by selfless intuition and situational awareness. Completely dialed in, the razor sharp focus of an underdog and the heart of the modern-day 300, the Squadians weren't about to fail, they didnt know how. But it wouldnt be easy.

The newly minted military of the United States had received a much needed overhaul in the wake of the Presidential election. Gone were the ineffectual cowards who shat themselves when confronted by a meta or mutant. Gone were the slow, the weak-willed, the easily defeated, packed up and shipped the hell on. A truism put on stylishly exhibition as the fortitude and skills of the new Marines propelled them to move with reactionary precision as their primary weapons were unceremoniously stripped.

Perfect form articulated their rapid response; un-holstering their secondary weapons from every rig, strap, and buckle on their persons before opening fire. Short spurts and tight groupings were the goal, however the Paragon of Protection had once again summoned his teammates via a telekinetic tug. Swiftly acting as their shepherd as he brought them aboard an appropriated military copter. The metallic sounds of bullets ricocheting off its undercarriage signaling the urgency to flee.

Rapidly a crimson pool where Ali had impacted after being thrown was inspected, surely it wouldnt take them long to acquire the faint trail of blood leading up to his peculiar location.

No Caption Provided

Scrambling up a large angular debris wall protruding from the ground. If one were to have had the time to step back and examine the scene unfold, they would have been able to observe the panktration panther's calculated trajectory of intended interception. Leaping off its edge in symmetry with the iron potus' attempted escape, careening through the air seeking to crash into the fleeing duo and dislodge the Winter Soldier. A task seemingly made easier by the Knightfall's returning state of self-awareness.

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Soterichor

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#173  Edited By Soterichor

Another wave of disorientation washed over her as Cassandra was hastily jerked from where she stood and unceremoniously flung through the air mid-attack. She felt the wind sucked from her lungs but her assault didn't stop immediately; wary of the potential she was yet on the receiving end of a counterstrike, the officer continued slashing away at body and armor until the moment she landed with a thud! in the aircraft.

Rapture's grip held a moment longer. If they were prisoners they'd at least have a bargaining chip, assuming the enemy valued the life of the archer as much. But after a cursory glance through the chopper, mutual signs of calm from the enemy and her ally alike were slightly reassuring.

But something wasn't.

It took a moment to complete the mental shift. She noticed it in the same instant Ali dove from the helicopter.

Cassius!

With barely a second thought Cassandra followed, flinging herself from the chopper to intercept the armored titan on his path to escape. Even should Ali fail to dislodge the fugitive Knightfall from his grasp through his aerial divebomb, he would have more to contend with if he wanted to escape with their fugitive. Likewise charging the man on foot, a pair of blades sprung from each of her forearms and as she closed in the Sanguine and her armor lashed out.

Ready to further block any attempts at maneuvering, the power of severance actualized in her weapons. With it she could cleave through adamantium as easily as air and complete a cut with hardly an effort, regardless of armor and other defenses. She aimed both high and low. Seeking to drive her blades into quadriceps muscles on each leg, while simultaneously numerous silvery tendrils shot from her armor. Proceeding from her first attack regardless of results Cassandra dove into a skyward somersault, leaping overhead while her many auxiliary limbs reached down to grab Cassius in an attempt to snatch him from the president's back. This attempt in turn supplemented through actualization of a forcible binding, Rapture's grip then one that not even a god could break.

And when she landed she stood ready to react. Ready to rend the flesh and sever the limbs of the armored man if his grip should hold. Although her primary motivation, more than her job depended on returning home with Cassius in custody. Closure, and possibly the status of the entire police department in a Gothic City under a new and seemingly spiteful Strix administration. Cassandra needed that prisoner. Even if she had to make a fillet of a man to make it happen.

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Cassius_Knightfall

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From the depths of the dark parts of his mind something stirred , a small fire lit itself and began to spread the spark setting of a chain reaction as it rapidly claimed inch by inch till it consumed it all. Self awareness, memory, control, facilities flooding back to the renegade Knightfall. Each a pale aspect of their totality but bringing at least part of the true Cassius back from behind the iron curtain of telepathic control. The first sensation he could truly feel again was movement something was carrying him or someone. The earth beneath him shifting as his weight rolled the carrier having suddenly been redirected. Striking out with flailing limbs as he tried to regain his own momentum and free himself from this grip his knees and elbows slamming the person beneath him with a flurry of strikes, allowing him to gain enough control to roll away and land on his feet.

Instinct never leaving him he reached for his weapons pulling his firearm into a hostile fire ready position "Who the hell are you?, what are you doing" This unknown flanked by a woman her face causing a bolt to shoot across his waking mind flashes of darkness, a big white building and destruction. He didnt know this womans name and he didn't care to know, but he knew from somewhere deep within himself he would not go anywhere with a person who would align themselves with her. Feeling a movement to his left flank he drew his knife pointing it in that direction without moving his head. He could smell its blood "I haven't missed you either, dont test me whoever you are."

"One of you better get talking"

His posturing and bravado cut short as he tried to take a step feeling something had latched onto him, not knowing how long it had been there or what had caused it. Looking along its strangely formed limb towards a third unknown. Turning his gun on it "Let me go, i won't ask again"

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Supreme_Chancellor

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The Prince of Darkness' face was an artistic canvas of a brutal beating, despite his helmet protecting the outer regions, his face still showed the remnants of Ali's ferocious beatdown. With a flick of a finger, Ali went flying away and X, tumbled to the side, spitting blood as he gnarled.

"This is not my fight."

The Chancellor's heir looked up as Clara Mass approached, outstretching a palm to take her hand as he glanced briefly at Ali, an American (who was running towards them at an alarming pace) and finally.... Another woman, whom had sought to pounce on the American?

He could have helped the man who happened to be the President in disguise. He could have gripped the Gothic Heroine and flung her into the distance, or crushed Ali under a scrap of metal. But not today. X had won his war and this was now a pointless waste of his time. "We're done here." The Unsung King went to grasp Clara Mass' palm, at the same time, his vibranium dagger shot out from Ali's torso and back into it's owners hand...

And then X vanished.

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Clara Mass

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Humans have always looked a mutants with envy in their eyes. To them, the use or misuse of our powers is everything. Will it service their wants? Or will it be used for our own personal needs? That is a question we must ask ourselves.

How do I know this, because I once thought I fit amongst mankind. I was wrong and as much as I thought I belonged..the truth is that I've always been a mutant and I can't change that. I never could.

For the location displaced American darling there wasn't much left for her to do. Outside of her own personal convictions, motivations, and realizations; what purpose did she have by staying here anymore? Admittedly she had her fun, but the rebuttal from her attacks had left her bloodied and rattled. She'd been gone by now if it weren't for the misguided heroism of @last_guardian and his compatriots.

Time and time again they emerged from whatever their enemies brought down upon them. Miss Pierce would applaud their efforts if they weren't on opposite ends of the confrontation, but instead she appeared visibly annoyed by their perseverance.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Whilst she hobbled toward @supreme_chancellor bruised, bloodied, and with broken bones; Miss Pierce noticed in the corner of her eye yet another combatant coming her way. This time, however, the costumed mystery carried the man responsible for the falling action of Iceland's liberation. She didn't understand the Knightfall's place in this narrative. All she knew was the importance of keeping her ally alive.

"The bastard is loose!" It didn't take long for @cassius_knightfall to break free from his captor. Why @hound_of_war tried to bring him along was beyond her. Instead the reality warper teleported instantly to evade his attack. Only to reappear some steps from Weapon X. She stumbled, but grabbed his shoulder to maintain her balance. Her eyes widened from disbelief as she and X leaned on one another for support.

"Have him! Do you understand me!? He isn't worth it." Miss Pierce screamed to the heroes whilst they played a game of musical chairs with a hovering chopper. They may not have heard her, but she'd relay her proclamations telepathically for those who even tried to tune her out.

"We've got what we wanted and there's not a damn thing you can do about it." They were pathetic, she thought. Each and every one of them. Why, because while they fetched for the man who lost his name the other man aptly titled Weapon X had seized an entire country for himself. Miss Pierce laughed as she tightly grasped Supreme's hand, their fingers interlocking as she looked at him with a sincere expression of reverence.

"This is not my fight,"they spoke in unison.

Yet, before they were set to vanish the brash broad looked up to behold @ali_sani_bashir descending from above. She'd have commanded him to drop dead, but Supreme acted faster then her. "We're done here," The Unsung King muttered whilst pulling his favorite vibranium dagger out of Ali's torso.

And like that they vanished....blood spilt in their absence.

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Last_Guardian

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@apex_: @hound_of_war:

As the bullets begin to fly, I try to listen to the female operative who somehow made her way into the aircraft.

"I think we got off on the wrong foot. I want answers, just didn't think a war was the best time. And figured better a questionable king then a mad one. So you want an out or to be in a helicopter that X will crash soon?"

“I’d love nothing else than to run away with you, babe, but it looks like my buddies have other ideas.” With a flick of a few buttons and nobs, the helicopter begins to power down. “Take a rain check, maybe?”

With my Force Speed again enabled, I am a blur as I make my way back out of the helicopter. Greeted by a storm of bullets, my body is flanked with dynamic Force barriers that protect my every inch and move alongside me. My focus is stronger than steel as I fight off a multitude of soldiers who have chosen to engage me at close range. For the first time today, I reach for my trademark weapon, an Infinity Gauntlet a lightsaber, this one as green as the mountains on the Icelandic horizon. At its medium setting the ligthsaber cuts through the soldiers' lightweight body armor, but instead of burning clean though their bodies, the blade stops after an inch or two, causing the men with even the greatest pain tolerance to be stunned into temporary paralysis by the pulsating heat.

To my surprise, one man dodges a swing from my lightsaber and soon, I find myself on the cold concrete floor with my saber no longer in hand, looking up at the man who just struck me down with a calamitous haymaker. "B. Mercer," I whisper, my eyes falling onto the tiny inscription on the dog tags that hang from a loose chain around his musclebound neck.

“Yer a traitor to your country, Jacob Grayson. You know what happens to traitors?"His steel-toed combat boot crashes into my ribs, propelling me three feet into the air before I land with a thud. "I kill 'em."

As my body crumbles, my mind comes alive, diving into my assailant's head. The Book of Commander Mercer opens up before me, a tragic story of a man consumed by war and a family abandoned because of it.

No Caption Provided

Clouds stir high in the Icelandic sky but the multitude of soldiers ignore them, unaware that I am the very source of the atmospheric disturbance. Suddenly, the scene comes alive with lightning and high winds that seek to pummel each military agent into submission. This is a Force Storm, the most powerful tool in my arsenal, and one especially equipped for dealing with multiple enemies at once.

Focused on the battalion, I’m caught off guard by another flurry of physical attacks from the veteran commander. He attempts to punctuate the beat-down with a vigorous stomp but I'm too fast, rolling away before maneuvering myself back to my feet.

“You know, Mercer, at this very moment your daughter Samantha is watching the news, wondering where her daddy could be."

He attempts a strike to the left side of my head but I avoid with a subtle dip, countering it with a hit of my own that makes him falter back. I'm caught by a bullet on the shoulder, shot from a soldier who is soon overcome by a gust of howling wind gust that knocks him into the nearest wall.

I cringe through the pain but press on with my mental and physical warfare. "She worries about you. Every time you go off to war she wonders if that’ll be the day you die."

Although his rugged scarred face shows no reaction, his movements become more sluggish, a development that I'm more than willing to capitalize on. Dodging more of his moves with the fluidity and flair of the great Muhammad Ali, I respond with a flurry of jabs, crosses and uppercuts that have him stumbling backwards in shock.

"She has a kid, you know. She hopes that one day, when you retire, you’ll come and meet him, be a grandpa like most men your age."

I summon my fallen lightsaber and with a swift strike of plasmatic energy, the commander's left hand is severed at the wrist.

“Commander, Mercer. Thank you for your service, but it’s time to go home. Consider yourself retired.”

A burst of telekinetic energy shoots out from my open palm, blasting Mercer several yards away to crash against a cracked wall. The injury I've given him will do him more good than bad. There's no way the military allows him to re-enlist now. He's a free man, one that will need quite a bit of therapy, but free nonetheless.

@ali_sani_bashir: @cassius_knightfall: @soterichor:

With the storm still brewing overhead, my focus falls on my wayward allies who now seem to be ganging up on the War Machine. I watch Cassius pull out a gun and point it to Cassandra but before he can pull the trigger, I attempt to Force pull it out of his hand. I can sense his confusion, his anger, even traces of fear.

"Cassius!"I cry out, attempting to get his attention. My patience running out, I try to latch onto his mind and instantly transmit the measure of the day's memories back to him. From my arrival in Gothic City to investigate his actions, to the way the Magnetic Master had so carelessly discarded him, I make it all available to the Winter's Warrior in a final attempt to make him see how he's become a pawn in a twisted game of mutant chess.

Hoping that the telepathic assault would be enough to subdue the rebellious assassin, my attention falls to the last stumbling block on the road to a successful mission: the Black Bat.

No Caption Provided

My hands come alive with a burst of electricity, this one colored in a distinct magenta hue. I send the ionization wave forward, expertly aiming it at the Armored Sentinel’s torso. The electric attack from before had backfired. Instead of causing any sort of harm, the energy inherent had been harnessed by the suit, radically boosting its performance. Ionization, however, works much differently than Force Lightning, down to an atomic level. The pulsating purple beam is meant to short-circuit any and all electrical systems it comes into contact with by overloading it with a distinct, unusable foreign charge. Even the most advanced systems should theoretically be overloaded the moment the Ionization wave takes a hold. If the attack can stop the War Machine even for a moment, it could be enough for the Z Fighters, Cassius, and I to make our getaway, perhaps with the help of the teleporting archer.

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Hound_of_War

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The Jungle Avenger’s ferocious pounce threw his equilibrium off, combined with the blades piercing his back and Cassius’s regaining self-awareness resulted in the Dark King falling against the ground and dropping the Renegade Knightfall. Julian had missed his allies’ reach by a mere centimeter. They wasted no time in leaving him to die under the pretense of washing their hands with the situation, believing that the target was not worth the trouble.

Julian thought otherwise.

“You’re right, this is my fight.” He whispered through to the dirt below him and the blood staining his armor.

‘He’s my family.’

No Caption Provided

Outnumbered, cornered, injured, but worst of all, in his mind he felt old. There was so much to accomplish, yet time seemed to drag on for him. Fighting had lost its fun, it was like having to complete an assignment for a dead end job. There was no incentive in physically beating someone, yet he was so addicted to it to the mix of chemicals that his brain produced when it happened.

This addiction led him to situations like this and some day he would not be able to get himself out of it. Maybe today was the day that he took his last breath on the battlefield, he pondered on the terrifying thought. His death would destroy whatever hope Iceland and the United States had, Orion Savage would laugh about the events and claim that he was right all along.

The horrors of what could happen tomorrow should he perish today kept him going.

The Black Bat’s back was being carved new scars, she was pulling him, trying to tear him to pieces. The suit was the only thing keeping him together, he pushed forward. His muscles started rattling like ancient wooden sticks hitting against each other consecutively.

In between the cuts and blade wounds, from the back of his palms he fired a concentrated sonic burst of energy enough to kill someone and surely more than enough to hurt her. He wanted her to feel as much pain as he had inflicted on him with her blades. Bleeding eardrums being the best course of action that he could come up on the spot with on the current situation at hand.

Maybe if she knew that he was attempting to help Gothic from its current state after the Icelandic invasion, then maybe she would not be so quick to kill him. Julian on the other hand, had no reason to need her alive after this.

There was hidden purpose behind this attack besides to inflict misery on one of Gothic’s last honest cops. She wanted to move her away in order to get earn enough time to attack his next opponent: The Last Guardian.

Simultaneously, as the Ghost of LA struck him with a series of ionized lighting he shot from his palm a plasma bolt, used according to the training simulation to burn even the toughest of opponents. At this point, Julian didn’t care anymore about the diplomatic alternatives against any of them.

He was just going for the kill.

The suit shut down as the Guardian desired, for a second Julian thought it was over. Stuck in his own demise for them to drag him through the burning streets of Iceland and hang him right at the center of the town.

A spark in his eye rebooted, fully back online with Claire. There was no time to be thankful about Stark’s sheer intelligence in engineering. Right about this moment, the Panther King would be prowling upon him. Underestimating him despite his lack of powers was idiotic.

Having witnessed his previous stunt against the arrow, Julian presumed it was best to avoid giving him a slow projectile to skillfully dodge and upgrade in speed. From his wrist, he fired a Maverick issued Hafnium missile, a mere grenade is said to be able to atomize anything near it. Julian expected that the heat alone would seal him inside that armor of his.

Finally, after catching his breath, he answered Cassius.

“Someone has been tampering with your mind and forced you to kill people. I don’t know who but I intend to find out. These people claim to want to help you, but I am beginning to have a hard time believing anything that they say at the moment.”

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LunaHawk

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@hound_of_war: @ali_sani_bashir: @cassius_knightfall: @soterichor: @last_guardian

Damn it. I thought they were leaving and this was done? I sigh and put my helmet back on. I can't very well let them kill the reason I'm here. He seems a capable fighter in that suit of his but he's getting noticeably slower, those attacks have started to penetrate the suit and damage the man beneath it.

"I don't care about this Cassius person, but I do care very much about the fate of my ally. If you're going to team up on him and try to kill him, you leave me with no option..."

No Caption Provided

I accelerate from the ground in an instant, intentionally producing a devastating ground level sonic boom followed by a rapid fire succession of them as the other Hawk Lords around me join in the strategy without a word between us. A sonic boom at this level can break glass, rattle bones and deafen ears but there isn't one, there's five one after the other. Once in the air I flip around and zoom back to the battlefield at incredible speed, traveling at an excess of mach three.

I know my targets, I'm also not willing to kill them, not here, not for this fight. Even in flight I adjust my weapons, switching over to a pair of pistols and loading magazines that are filled with rubber bullets...but not just any rubber bullets, these contain traces of Nth Metal, enough to charge the round with energy and hold it...basically turning the pistols into a pair of rapid fire tasers with enough punch to knock out a cow.

As I fly into the battlefield I pick my shots carefully. Three bullets go for the blade woman's spine. If all three connect she'll receive one hundred and fifty thousand volts of electricity through the pretty body of hers. I don't expect all of them to connect. I completely ignore the man in the black panther suit, that's vibranium, I'm not about to shoot a man wearing vibranium with rubber electricity bullets. That leaves @last_guardian. He uses telekinetics of some sort and other interesting tricks. His lighting attacks will be useless against me and though he can probably sense my approach, being able to respond in time to a mach three attack is another story entirely. For him my plan is different than using range. Well, it is, but it's not. I want to give him as little reaction time as possible because I know he's quick and seems to sense things coming.

I wait...and wait...and wait, flying at speeds that would flay the skin from a human and break all their bones I fly in so close I could reach out and touch him...but I don't. As I get close enough to do that, I fire off two rounds at point blank range, right at the center of his chest. One hundred thousand volts can be fatal, but it generally isn't not for fighters like him. Hopefully it's enough to knock him out..and hopefully he realizes how much I'm holding back right now.

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Ali_Sani_Bashir

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Again the aerial acrobatics of the pankration panther had successfully stalled the Winter Knightfall's would be evacuation. Sacrificing his unarmored body for the greater good, but unable to physically endure the stress of a favorable landing. Crashing shoulder first, the Great Jaguar had barely registered the continued escalation that surrounded the area. Instincts and situational intuition sub-consciously governed his motions, his reactions now on auto-pilot. Unable to enjoy the Dark Nightingale's malicious assault, but it bought him time.

No longer capable of fighting, all the Bashir Bishop could do now was survive. So while badge number #1221 fought, he crawled. Pulling his broken and battered carcass through the trampled topography, digging and clawing his fingers through the muddied ground while those still standing threw-down with depleted restraint.

Able to hear the frenzied free for-all, cerebral mental mapping filled in the lack of visual testimonies for the injured avenger, marking the point in which the heroic Guardian had intervened and unleashed an electrical siege. Again unable to celebrate the assault, it never the less, proceeded to buy him more time. So again he heaved forward, towing himself with his forearms despite the crippling pain, a slick of blood trailed behind like a crimson painted road-map. Dirt and debris being mashed deeper and deeper into his abdominal wound. Infection was now as potentially deadly as any combatant left in the field. Time was the enemy.

The Iron Icon's adamantium like resolve was tougher then any alloy known to man. Working his way through the progression of attacks one by one as he still sought to claim the assassin for himself. Such a sudden an unexplained obsession over a killer he had no prior affiliation with would have normally been an unmissable red-flag for the Bashir Bishop. However fatigue, emotional as well as physical, had draped a veil over Ali's perceptive clarity. He was only human, and his opponents were walking weapons of mass destruction. Armed, as he would soon find out, with radioactive armaments.

No Caption Provided

It wasn't skill or breathtaking ability. It wasn't superhuman senses or reactionary perfection. It was the basic human condition, the will to persevere that had allowed the Vibranium Maharajah to dig deep. Unyielding in his crawl across the field of conflict and slump behind the Liafador Legacy's dislodged Aegis Shield as it protruded out of the ground that allowed him to stoically survive. He never saw the architect of the attack as it violently exploded against the immovable protection, intercepting the bulk of the life-threatening detonation while simultaneously sheltering the semi-conscious anti-hero. Lingering effects would undoubtedly began to deteriorate the acceptable levels of radiation but the primary danger had been unwittingly arrested.

The Z-Squad had conducted themselves with purposeful limitation, unwilling to take a life in order to achieve their agenda, a luxury they were not afforded by the enemy. If physically capable Ali would have un-apologicatlly ended the iron militant's life, he had no qualms with taking one, especially if the alternative was to surrender his own. And with any luck it was a sentiment shared by the ecliptic entourage of newly labeled outlaws. It was now a matter of kill or be killed.

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Cassius_Knightfall

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@lunahawk: @hound_of_war:@ali_sani_bashir@soterichor: @last_guardian

The world lit up as the air burned behind him. The man bat unleashing a force of nature onto the battlefield sending the lost knightfall flying like a pin from a strike. This was no mere explosion its epicenter was almost biblically powerful it smite the earth and the air and any who would be unlucky enough to be at its ground zero. The shock wave causing Cassius to cough and spit up blood from his mouth, the shock of the air rippling through him and causing a severe disturbance within his internal organs. Already battle drunk and mentally fragile it was not easy to pull himself from the ground. The words of the man bat after his explosive salvo echoing around his head as his ears reverberated from the concussive effect of the explosion.

Looking over to the cowled individual he spat his blood on the ground in his direction. "And i have a hard time believing you have my best intentions at heart.You could of killed me." Looking upon the cowl a sea of anger washed around his mind as something burst from beneath the current a comment shooting from the bottom of his consciousness and breaching the surface "You're not fit to wear the cowl" Surprised at his own words, confusion and pain continued their stranglehold on his fragile form. Coughing and spitting yet more of his vital fluid onto the floor. "If you truly care listen to me, and go" knowing that he unsolicited outburst would do his later comment no favors he simply turned his back and began to walk towards the beaten warrior crouched wincing beneath the shield.

Talking loudly for all to hear as he placed a hand out for the other warrior to reach for.

"I surrender, i will chose my own battles now and i will do so by ending this one. Steady your hands put down your arms, or join the dead. This war ends here and it ends now."

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Soterichor

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#183  Edited By Soterichor

From the time of their formation to the present predicament, the newly assembled Z-Squad made off-the-cuff thinking their M.O. just as the enemy had shrewd farsighted tactical considerations, yet managed to keep up at every step nonetheless. In perfect concert the two acted, the impromptu Bashir Fastball off-balancing the Knightfall Patriarch well enough for the Nightingale to more easily launch her own assault. Even if at the cost of her ally's remaining combat capability. She didn't immediately see the damage, but she didn't need to be a physician to know that when man meets metallic power armor, the consequences were serious. In this battle Ali wouldn't have much longer

But hopefully they wouldn't need much longer. Effortless, blades carved man and armor alike and Cassandra retrieved Cassius without much struggle. His threat fell on deaf ears, though she wouldn't have minded him anyway. Despite the moral reservations of her allies the officer was ever clear. Cassius was no victim in her eyes; he was a murderer and prisoner-to-be.

Likewise the Presidential Warhound was dead set with his intent. His next move - and the principle of his continued resistance - nearly convinced the officer that he would have to die for the trio to make off with the target. Catching Cassius in its midst did little to mitigate the sonic blast, sending both he and Gothic's Finest careening through the air like a pair of ragdolls into the battlefield rubble. Rapture took the brunt of the blow, binding itself so tightly at the molecular level that few of the vibrating soundwaves would pass through to its bearer. But though she was spared the worst of it, such sound negation did little to protect against impacts and inertia.Next-day pains...

No Caption Provided

Cassandra groaned.

And in its own odd, inhuman way, Rapture did as well. Not aloud, but through their mutual bond she felt the strain placed on her companion. They'd weathered several off-key explosions, depleted uranium, a collapsing building and more in quick succession. She'd taken it for granted, feeling very little herself and assuming she could keep up indefinitely. But for all it'd allowed her to withstand, the esoteric armor seemed almost to need to recede and recharge. Several vital areas remained covered but the Sanguine was no longer afforded the luxury of full-body protection.

And...her ears were ringing. Where moments prior her entire world was dead silent, lying there Cassandra clutched at her ears for the sharp emissions extant only to herself, with a seeming attempt to groan it all down. Lost in an instant of shrill, head-splitting pain...

And then it was gone. Everything seemed relatively normal. Gasping for breath, Cassandra began to rise, again taking stock of her surroundings and condition.

"–kill him, you leave me with no option."

It was a voice she hadn't recognized, but simple reasoning suggested the hawk was no ally and Cassandra stood ready, in her mind more alert than she'd been the entire battle. So focused on the soaring Hawk, she barely minded her ally and what would've otherwise been a measure of annoyance that her intended hostage was now likely free and unsupervised once more in their escape chopper. Survival first.

No more tanking shots. Rapture strained, but holding. Could probably manage one more big push but only if necessary.

Three shots rang out in a succession so quick they hardly registered as anything more than one.

The Sanguine followed with three cuts of which she herself was scarcely aware. She could hardly have tracked the movement of the small speeding projectiles herself, but the Rapture was much faster than she and not so limited in its operational tools.

From there she stood torn. Cassius appeared to be surrendering, but to the one member of the team who seemed incapable of taking action. Still, it was doubtful the president would just accept that after everything and Ali was much worse-off than the Guardian. "Ghost" would just have to take care of himself. She'd have to trust him to defeather Bird Chick - or at least keep her busy - and pray the walking lightshow was as much on his last leg as he seemed. And that he knew it.

She made no immediate moves but Cassandra steadied her pistol in case he were to make a move against any of them, at which she'd respond with two shots in the same formula as she'd fired at the archer – one body, one head – again enhanced with the abstract power that would allow it to pierce anything in its path.

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Last_Guardian

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@hound_of_war: @lunahawk:

As my stream of ionic lightning washes over the Steel Sentinel, I feel a blazing plasma bolt crash against my sternum throwing me back several feet. This is yet another attack that I would’ve claimed my life had I not been protected by my telekinetic armor. It’s clear that the Black Bat has crossed over into a state of desperation in order to try to get his way. Maybe I was wrong about him being a good man, or perhaps he believes that we are out to kill him as well.

Just as I’m getting up, I feel a breeze at my left side. It is the Force, warning me of an impending attack long before it happens. Working quickly, I erect a solid and invisible wall of telekinetic energy spanning about twenty feet across to the left of me. In the past, this has proven quite an effective defensive measure on speedsters that have attempted to speedblitz me. Unfortunately for them, the faster and harder they attack, the more damage they’ll receive.

It’s then that the deafening sound of repeated sonic booms assaults my eardrums, robbing me of my ability to hear anything and filling my head with a considerable amount of piercing pain. What comes next is almost indiscernible to even my Force-assisted vision.

At the last moment I’m able to send a small wave of TK upwards, moving one bullet of course, but the other merely changes directions and crashes into my shoulder. 50,000 volts of electricity surges into my body, attempting to seize my faculties, but to a person who regularly channels electricity through his body this attack is a lot less effective than usual. Although I remain upright, my right arm falls completely limp. I’m forced to duck down to avoid any further attacks and hope that the wall is does its job against the resurgent Hawk Lords.

@ali_sani_bashir: @soterichor: @cassius_knightfall:

BOOM!

The sound rings out from the area in which the Bat is doing war with my allies. I look back in time to see Ali defensive move, followed by Cassius’ surrender to the Z Fighters.

For a moment, I can feel everything slow down around me as I look around the battlefield. So much carnage, so much bloodshed, so many negative emotions, swirling around us. A flip had been switched in several individual's minds. To them it was now a matter of kill-or-be-killed. Although, I've never adopted a hard-line stance against the practice of taking a life that truly deserves it, I see no one here that deserves death, only a bunch of people who believe that they're doing what's right.

"Enough!" I cry out, limping towards the Armored War Machine that had endured the assault from four powerful individuals. “No one’s gonna die today. Not even you. Cassius Knightfall has surrendered to us. Your suit is breaking apart. Our bodies are too. I know it may seem like we’re crazy. What'd you call us earlier? Terrorists. But I assure, you, we're doing what we believe is right by Cassius."

I take a deep breath as I formulate a final on-the-fly exit strategy. "I understand that coming back to your superiors empty-handed would really suck. So don’t.”

No Caption Provided

My face bloodied and bruised from the ongoing onslaught, I present my left wrist in a show of surrender as my right arm hangs lifelessly by my side. "Go ahead, arrest me. You need a scapegoat, right?”

“Go!” my telepathic voice calls out to my allies, a simple word that should be easy for them to perceive.

My mind then locks onto the girl in the helicopter (@apex_). Earlier, I had redirected a black-tipped arrow that she had shot to the Obsidian Panther. I had followed it's trajectory until it crashed into a nearby car. Instead of damaging the vehicle, it seemed to make it disappear into thin air, which pointed at one of two possibilities. Either the arrow was meant to disintegrate matter, or to teleport it.

Hoping it was the latter, I transmit the memory back to archer adjoined with to words: “Shoot me!”

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LunaHawk

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@last_guardian:

Got one, didn't seem to do much to the other one. Damn.

I bank around, considering another pass but things suddenly calm down again with one of them offering to surrender in exchange for the prisoner. I slow down considerably and then I land beside my battered and bruised ally @hound_of_war. I keep both pistols out and ready to fire, but I'm not going to keep fighting if I think this can all end soon. I said I would defend my ally and I will but right now, no one is attacking him and I want it plain and obvious that I have no intention of harming anyone just for the sake of doing so. I shift my gaze to the Force Warrior's limp arm, aware now what my bullets did when they managed to strike him. The feeling will come back in his arm eventually.

"Rubber shock charges." I tell him. "Crowd control. You'll regain feeling in your arm later on." I turn my head to my ally, glancing over his battered armor. "End this." I tell him clearly. "You've won, Iceland is done and in the hands of an ally. I know this might be some how personal to you, but there's such a thing as pushing too hard." I tap the side of my helmet with the barrel of one of my guns. "I can hear your breathing, it's become labored. If you think you can take them on...I'm not your mother." I tell him. "I'll make sure you don't die, but I'm not about to try and kill in the name of him, especially when I haven't been briefed on the situation." I add, pointing a gun at Cassius, but only briefly and as a gesture rather than any intent on my part to shoot him. My finger remains on the side of the gun rather than the trigger.

"Besides..." I begin. "You can always try to get him back later, when you have a team designed to do it."

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Cassius_Knightfall

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@last_guardian: @lunahawk:@hound_of_war@ali_sani_bashir: @soterichor:

"I choose them, let it go. You will live longer." Pointing his other firearm at the birdwoman , his finger noticeably on the trigger "As for you, dont point a weapon you're not ready to fire." Tapping the side of the barrel with another of his fingers "especially when you're telling me i apparently killed a bunch of people."

His arms both now raised a weapon in each. Pointing at the colwed man and his winged ally. "Nobody is going with you two, not me or anybody as my scapegoat. This ends here, you walk, we walk and that's it. There has been enough bloodshed today and i will be dammed if i am to cause anymore of it. So accept the facts of the situation. They are many, you are few and i won't come with you voluntarily. So here we are and we are done."

Lowering his firearms but keeping them both in his hands. Walking over and standing in the midst of the rag tag group of fighters he gaze not leaving the two potential threats ahead. A whisper echoing in his head "Good, now wait" his eyes flickering for a brief second caused be a shiver in his very soul.

The group of them together the battered panther, the sniper, the armoured woman , the man in the stars and stripes style get up and the metallic armed mercenary leaving the situation, leaving the country and the chaos of it all behind. Now would come the aftermath....

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Apex_

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@cassius_knightfall: @last_guardian: @lunahawk: @hound_of_war@ali_sani_bashir: @soterichor:

it was better that those who entered the hellocopter so eagerly jumped out, she didn't have all the answers and was willing to try and cooperate. Predominantly the focus was survival though. She was an archer, with the specter before her and bladed officer at her side things weren't good for her. Additionally they had shown a melee focus which was a huge advantage against a ranged specialist in an enclosed space. She'd been pulled to the hellocopter by circumstance but one that couldn't be more in their favor. Allegiance mattered more though and almost as soon as they had Alex they were jumping back into the fray. And for awhile Alex considered just leaving, this fight was over.

However the hero of gothic reached out to her asking for something else, and she still wanted answers. Turning the vehicle to land Alex readied for her next play. It'd be a simple one she was done with this conflict. Mavericks archer also had to act some what independently on decision here. She didn't know it was the president on the front lines. The fight for Iceland was over, and X didn't care about this conflict. Was debatable if anything could be done to the possible prisoners anyway. All she knew was that more had transpired then was informed to her, and the most level headed of the group was willing to be turned in.

"I'd still try and drag them in if you can. A cop acting outside the law, a politician, and X's man not sure they should just slip by. But let me deal with the rational one I've better odds getting answers I think." Alex used the radio comm of the military to reach the cowled figure. Way she saw it only one person was trust worthy of the rag tag third party squad. Much as she didn't trust anything could be raised against the trio and the spy she also didn't trust most of them. Changing comms to the Shogunate channel the archer called out to her squad one of the mutants able to heal what would come next. Because while Alex had faith she could get answers from the vigilante he still was perhaps the MVP of this third party unique abilities having gone above and beyond in their versatility.

"This might sting a bit. But trust me." She thought aloud to warn the rational one ahead of time as she notched an arrow and pulled back. Her aim was perhaps unrivaled by anyone, the kind of eye sight that allowed a human to shoot a speedster. Alex wasn't the fastest on the pull, she couldn't outrun a Ferrari she just had an X gene in her eyesight that made her vision on a level all its own. And with literal surgical precision she let an arrow fly it's blade only a few nanometers thin the arrowhead raced for the throat. It would cut with an almost unreal aim nicking the neck to a point where any sudden movement could be grievous but just a bit of pressure on it and he'd be fine. This wasn't a lethal blow it was her best was of instilling trust. He was much more powerful then her in abilities he could break her with a thought, but she was the one who'd get that wound patched up who'd put pressure to the wound so he wasn't at risk.

Hit or miss though the arrow and Alex would appear back in the Shogunate. If the truce was still active she'd be beside the hero ready to deal with the wound. In either case however the marksman elitist would be gone. And hopefully breaking up the squad would change the moral standing to change how things were playing out. They were to tight knit to compromise with any luck Alex could force them into the better alternative.

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Maverick_6

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I've had enough of this pointless war.

(@doctor_wheatley) (@adrian_hastings)

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"Who the hell are these people? We've lost half our forces on the ground!"

"Push the M.O.R.S. forward. I have a plan. Tell all U.S. Forces to draw back. I don't know who this fucker is but they want some of our guys? Then they can have them."

No Caption Provided

Perhaps by now, a city's worth of them had practically thrown themselves at the army of Doctor Wheatly. They felt no sense of self preservation, no fear, no anguish, no sorrow, no hunger. They could not lose moral, and they would follow any order. They were but machines of flesh, programming embed in their very genetic coding. Bred for combat, and ultimately to Maverick, not as valuable as human life they had sought to preserve. And so, they ran forth across the country scape, blurs to the human eye up close, sprinting at speeds akin to a car as they moved to rapidly engage this new oppertunistic entity that they'd yet to be aware was the thing known as "Doctor Wheatley". Ominous, glowing, bright red eyes locked on enemies once allies, without a single shred of empathy, as they'd begun to gun down smaller enemies while sprinting at roughly 30 miles an hour in full combat gear, strafing their enemies and keeping out of range, and just as eager to engage up close with any number of Maverick's various melee weapons.

An army of souless super soldiers had jumped fearlessly at the maws of the enemy.

They lacked ability to coordinate and strategize on their own. Decision making was to be made by humans. They were sent to flank and distribute themselves all about the coast of Iceland, deep into what had turned into Wheatley's territory. Some engaged, and others simply continued to sprint at speeds of over 40 miles per hour if they weren't focused on shooting. Scaling walls, jumping trees and showing a much greater degree of mobility and agility then the enemy had demonstrated. Yet still, the enemy was stronger, more numerous and had many who were larger. And the M.O.R.S. possessed mostly conventional small arms and some explosives.

"The worm seems to eat people. Send a nuke courier down it's way. Attract it's attention. Divert all units to protect the courier."

Blood erupted from pours all around it as a M.O.R.S. was cut down with claws capable of rending through body armor. Crushed by jaws that could sink into steel. They were not machinations of metal, they were automatons, of the organic variety. They could still be infected and afflicted by the most potent of viruses. And so, at a cost, many U.S armed forces were spared, and the M.O.R.S. brought to bear to take their place. A matter of hours and Wheatly had taken a over half of what was left. Leaving only 50,000 behind to hold the line.

Or so it appeared.

"Shit, hostile boarded me. I can't fuckin' shake him. "This is it. The man knows this, and one hand goes towards his gun, the other to shut off the jet's defenses. "Sun of a-ARRRGH." Static.

A jet flew towards Bradshaw, unleashing it's payload of two missiles. Of his own. "I guess at least you people are getting kind of creative." He drew his Mastiff, his armor aiding him as he took aim with the massive weapon, his own human eyes locked on to the missiles that ironically sought to target him. Two shots. One shot forth a scram Jet round that burrowed into the first missile, the explosion, setting the other off mid air. The second appeared through the fire and brimstone. No homing round or additional guidance it. The bullet was dumb, but it hit it's target. Didn't even need to penetrate armor of the jet. Only this missile. The Scramjet punches through the missile, and hits it's detonator straight on, an explosion filling the air as it erupts. The wreckage flies overhead in two pieces, crashing into a building. behind him, fire erupting behind him, as the rest of the jet's ammo.

"You won't be forgotten."

His faced unchanged, but yet his voice filled with lament, the armor could have intercepted the shot. The gunslinging grenadier's brow began to furrow, and with the courier in place firing at the worm, it is ensuingly gobbled it up. Everything was in place as he broadcast a code to all units, M.O.R.S. still having COMS devices in their ears and head.

"Zero one one zero one zero one zero zero one one one destruct destruct self destruct. Code eight niner niner destruct self destruct."

An ear piercing howl ensues, as the M.O.R.S. already resisting bodies go into overdrive, hyperadvanced immune systems enabling them to sustainably lash out. Literal roars escaped multittoothed jaws as they ran towards anything near them, being namely infected troops, and then....the blew up. Standard issued bombs to enough bombs to level buildings, flashes visible in the distance as enough bombs to flatten a block went off at once, all in their direction. Finally, one of them went wholly into the jaws of the worm, the nuke courier. And was swallowed whole. It moved within it's bowels, before going off with the force of a .5 kiloton nuclear bomb. No fission, did not mean less in the realm of utter atomic destruction, as blast waves rippled throughout the area and left little more than a molten crater where the utterly vaporised creature once was. Blast waves rending bodies and crushing skulls for miles.

"Send coordinates to the U.S Armed Forces. I want every destroyer to raze the place. I wanna see the sky black with artillery. I wanna tomohawk missiles cutting them down. Light the sky up with fire."

If he had a radio within his hand, instead of his pseodo technopathic helmet, he'd have crushed it by now. And so, coordinates were streamed from Maverick to U.S armed forces, flying overhead and pummeling the landscape. Not towards Wheatley specifically, but towards his army as a whole.

"Mop up."

A creature raise's it's hand, attempting to regenerate itself, before a heavy, powered boot.

Men move forth. "The real" men of Maverick. The remaining portion of Maverick's Army, aided by air craft and having been deployed from United States carriers with high frequency weaponry, transit by sea enabling them easily swap loadouts to a more CQC centric arsenal in. One might be surprised to know Maverick has developed it's own melee weapons for such occasions as this. The U.S Armored forces backing them up with air support.

No Caption Provided

The fight would draw on, but one Maverick was worth more than any one ordinary soldier. They were an army, designed to fight superhumans and armies much larger and grander in scale then themselves. While not necessarily the most powerful, they had one thing their enemy did not. Not even the Icelandic forces seemed to have. Tactics.

A stark contrast between Maverick and Iceland's own advanced technology.

"Some Utopia this turned out to be. Couldn't keep to themselves. Not even for a little bit. Can't help but wonder what we dig up about them and what they've been doing. As for these guys, I want them traced. As for the mutants, we'll let them handle the rest. After this, we're done here. Hooyah?"

They all exclaimed the United States Navy's chant, in gratitude for their aid in the endeavor to keep the earth safer for another day, until yet another greater threat may rise once again.

"Hooyah!"