War of Kings (Wolf Pack vs. The Hidden Lotus)

• OOC Thread Here
• This RPG is for Wolf Pack and The Hidden Lotus members ONLY.
• Standard RPG Rules / Rates apply.

New Orleans, Louisiana

Wolf Pack Base, New York

 The Hidden Lotus Complex-Somewhere in Asia:

Not too long ago

Now

The Hidden Lotus, An immutable faction enveloped malevolent elegance, and strict codes to oblige by. This formation is more than just a team, its a cluster of illustrious warriors who are relentless on the battlefield, but as calm flowing stream in there kin. They say, those who kill, those who show no mercy, do not have integrity.Everyone has there limits, this society's motives do not go without a motive, but we are conservative, so our motives will not be spoken of. Judgment in the lotus, radiates apathy instantly, just keep your mouth close, and let your eyes listen.this is what makes the Hidden lotus

Akira Overdrive, general of fire, merciless warrior on front line, and very honorable opponent. He is adroit with various types of  martial arts techniques, and his so adept with unarmed combat, he can take out a man with an m16 in an instant. Watching this man in combat, is like watching a cobra take out his prey. He is the heart of the kin, and shows homage , to the hard work of his clan generals

The Cajun Assassin, and the King Of Kings. Jean Luc Lebeau Jr, a weapon of vanity as well as stealth, he provides a hush, yet noxious element to the society. Position as a general, is comparable to his stealth, as silent as stagnant water.Akira Overdrive have been in many organizations together. So both their notions fused as one, would create one dexterous plot.

Dark Wrath, The Immortal Rampage, the night thrasher, no element could fit him better then earth. reks is a close friend of Bullet Ride, and bestail opponent. He is the tank of the society, and a savage beast when angered. Despite his apathy towards comedy, his seriousness could be hilarious at times, but if you dare laugh in his face , he will launch you like an expert quarterbacks hailmary

The hunter of the night, and the turbulent wind, Nighwolf a skilled tactician and a force to be reckoned with, with superior leadership skills , and infantry behind him,he could subdue any adversary he wanted without moving a muscle. As the Quantam Synidcate as one of the society's splinter cells, The Hidden Lotus would be a force to reckon with.

And Finally, The Master Of Disaster , The Feral Champion, Darkchild, the apathetic bold ruthless bad ass son of a b!tcth. His personality and actions coordinate as one. he is feared by all, but occasionally teased by Bullet Ride.Dc's will is as high as the mountains,eqaully dangerous. If you dare see this man on the battlefield, it would bewise to flee while you can.

The Lake , fronted by n one other than Graft, Ex nazi, and a decisive marksman. Gifted with the ability to accelerate and abate speeds, he is a diabolic opponent on the battlefield. Despite his constant violations of the sacred codes of The Hidden Lotus, Graft is still considered to be one of the most valuable members in the society, if it wasn't for his precise marksmanship, some people would be alive.

The 6 generals of the Hidden Lotus, all skillful warriors, and close friends despite there differences. each component the society's generals have, Benefits the augmentation of the team. We are all one , The hidden lotus will live in the hearts of those who've experinced our might forever. when our names spoken, it will not be in Vain

Gambler stood in perfect tranquility with his hands pressed flat against one another at the bottom of a raging waterfall; submerged up to his waste. Even with the rapid falls crashing against the rocky base he remained focused. Blocking out the thunderous turmoil utilizing perfect control over mind and body. His muscles flexed to the limit in the freezing water, his body baring numerous battle scares from wars long past. Electrical burn patterns from his confrontations with Kurrent, perfectly aligned rows of cuts where Hunter's claws had laid claim to his flesh, and even the unmistakable slicing patterns of Akira's own blade were etched in his body. He wore each one like a badge of honor.

The Living Legend had found a new home in Japan, a fresh start. Away from the burdens of leadership and the responsibility of family. A self imposed exile so to speak. After nearly losing his life to the Wolf Pack Alpha Male, Hunter, Gambler had sworn revenge. So when his longtime friend and blood brother approached him with the means and opportunity, he accepted. Akira had gained control of an ancient empire cloaked in secrecy and forged in tradition. An illustrious group represented by a code, The Hidden Lotus Clan. A clandestine gathering of elite men and women with the soul purpose of establishing a dynasty.

"General LeBeau, your presence is requested in the main Shinto." said a humble servant dressed in traditional garb. Breaking his meditative state, the LeBeau Legacy toweled off before subtly twitching his fingers summoning his blade instantly into his grasp. The silver dragon motif's entwined underneath the silk grip sparkled as the setting sun gleamed off them. Artistically Gambler's katanna had no equal. A prize sought by bounty hunters and assassins the World over. Slowly he tucked the weapon under his arm allowing it to run vertically up the length of his forearm with the point showing just over the top of his back shoulder.

By the time Gambler had arrived indoors the meeting was already underway, with Akira systematically detailing every aspect of the missions. Taking his seat the King of Kings silently eyed the room as well as those in attendance. Each one a famed fighter with legendary exploits to their name. Yet as a collective unit they had spent little time together. With so many ego's and former leaders operating under one roof the potential for infighting was magnified. But the Cajun simply sat back and smirked at the idea of so many extraordinary warriors clashing in an epic battle. Barely catching what Akira had laid out up until the mention of his name. "Nightwolf and Gambler will head to the base in Japan and make it crumble to the ground,since we are so close in proximity I have already activated my sleeper cells in the bases."

Almost immediately the Cajun scoffed showing total derision for what he had just heard. Yet kept his resentment to himself as not to upset the delicate balance that held the Clan together. But underneath his skillfully crafted facade Gambler hated the idea of being sent on a simple seek and destroy mission. The one thing, the only thing, he wanted was revenge against the Lycan warrior who had left him beaten and broken. And he knew where ever they were holding Talon, would be exactly where the Hunter would surface. However Akira had one more surprise for his famed Generals before disbanding the meeting.

"Generals,brothers.A gift from me,the weapons I have for you are all costumed for you and you only,I've done research and had them all made to be exactly what you look for in and instrument of death.Now let's take what belongs to us."

Placed before the Master of Manipulation was a beautifully hand crafted shield forged out of pure Vibranium. Each specification mimicking that of one of Gambler's greatest rivals, Andfrene. The Cajun had copied many of the heroes moves but never had a shield of of this caliber in which to perfect the style. Its black metallic coat glistened and the silver embroidered old English style A overlapping the G stood for, Assassins Guild. A ceremonial tribute from one brother to the next. After taking time to carefully admire the weapon the King of King's nodded to Nightwolf that it was time to go. War was on the horizon and soon blood would flow like a river.

His fingertips, slid slowly over the metallic surface of the four-foot titanium crowbar. An object with vast destructive potential, and one, which had taken many innocent lives. The weapon itself was deadly, but it had become even more fatal when in the hands of the “Brute.” Not only did government officials give the name to him, but also it was his personality. As of now, the day had come for him to replace his master. Long story short: Kado, the Titan of Quantum Syndicate, had found a way to fuse his genetic DNA with Brute’s blood. Not only enhancing Brute’s strength but he also altered his hGH. Human Growth Hormone. Within a few weeks he was already seven feet and four inches. It was amazing that his body could endure such a mutation. Now, word is, Kado had been captured by the Blue Lantern’s and shipped off to a maximum-security facility. He knew it was only a matter of time before the goliath had escaped.

For now he, needed to play a role as a substitution. Of course he’d never live up to be half as good as the Titan, but right now The Quantum Syndicate were probably in need of him. He pulled the pink face mask over his head and slipped into his green construction worker suit. This was the perfect disguise to avoid being questioned for his crowbar. Then again, how many crowbars were four feet long and nearly indestructible? Not many. He walked out into the crowd, some were amazed at his size but not many. There were many others, taller than him in this dysfunctional world. He effortlessly shoved his way through the Asians, resulting in many infuriated comments. All markets were open, which explained the business but still he needed to find out ho w to locate this “Quantum Syndicate.” He knew he was on the right track, he could smell innocent blood drift through the atmosphere.

After asking a few questions about Quantum Syndicate, he soon understood a quote he had been told once. “Keep knocking on the Devil’s Door long enough, somebody is going to answer.” Because moments later he had been shot with six tranquilizers, each one with the power to take down an elephant. He could feel his large body begin to numb, as he powerlessly fell to the ground….

Awaken…

He didn’t have to find Quantum Syndicate, they had found him, and apparently they weren’t alone neither. The room itself had become monstrous. It was packed with only the most deadly and the most lethal villains. These people were above the Italian Mafia. He found himself thrown onto the floor, with his crowbar beside him. His eyes were still adjusting to the light, as his mind was adjusting to the figures in the room. How could you even imagine being in the same room with these, lords? Lords of Crimes. He knew he’d fit in just perfectly. Splendid, he thought as he stood up casting an immense shadow over the room. He could see the future for these bloodthirsty villains, and their future was the world. Everybody who’s anybody knows that heroes never come out on top. This story didn’t have a happy ending.

"Looks like we are all here.Good.Our plans have been set in motion and we are ready for the second stage.The Wolf Pack seem to believe we would actually stoop low enough to a basic criminal level and try to draw them out,but really we know its all routine.Sparda has several highly trained mercs with him from our splinter cell:Mercenaries, in the Canadian Rockies,so the Hunter will search there,following his scent. Darkchild and Graft.I'll need you to infiltrate and destroy their stronghold in Great Britain.Bullet,you and your clan have the task of shutting down there base in Germany.Leave nothing.Nightwolf and Gambler will head to the base in Japan and make it crumble to the ground,since we are so close in proximity I have already activated my sleeper cells in the bases.There security is compromised, and the smaller outhouses have been destroyed.Myself and Wrath will stay here to defend the compound,you'll have tech support from our crew,just radio in,if anything goes wrong will send out our splinter groups for reinforcements. Generals,brothers.A gift from me,the weapons I have for you are all costumed for you and you only,I've done research and had them all made to be exactly what you look for in and instrument of death.Now let's take what belongs to us."

He watched as people began to exit the perimeter in different directions, grabbing numerous weapons as they did so. Something major was about to take place, and the Wolf Pack had something to do with it. Usually, in this moment he’d be prepared for action. But something hard, stung him. Not physically but emotionally. Something called fear. Would he be killed? Could he keep up? He was scared now, more scared than he had ever been before. He twisted his crowbar in the air in a spiral motion as he awaited instructions.

Wolf Pack Base: New York

Underground: New York City... One Day Later

The New York city streets were choked with traffic as people went along on their daily buisness. They were driving, they were walking, they were running, they were standing on top of tall buildings ready to jump...Wait, what?

There was a crowed clustering around a building. The reason came apparent. A man was standing on the very edge of rooftop, with his arms outspread. He had the look that many suiciders had. The look that said that they had had enough but had just realised how painful jumping off a building could be. The man had been standing there for several minutes now. A policeman stood at the front of the crowd with a megaphone.

"Come down from the rooftops!"

"No," screamed the man. " I've had enough! I'll jump! I really will!"

The crowd collectively held it's breath. The tension was shattered when someone in the back of the crowd cried out.

"If you're going to jump, then just bloody well jump! Don't keep us waiting! Some of us have places to be!"

Everyone in the crowed turned to see a masked man wearing a blue and black ninja costume. You couldn't really tell from the mask but it was clear that he was getting agitated.

"You're a coward!," the stranger called out. "You don't have the guts to jump!"

'Yes I do!," the man cried out.

"Then why aren't you jumping. Your life sucks! You have nothing to live for! Better that you end it in a horrible moment of falling and then painful death rather than live until you're eighty years old and die in a nice comfortable bed!"

Some people looked at the policeman. Surely he should be doing something about this masked man? But the policeman had taken one good look at the man and had then scarpered off.

The man looked uncertain.

"Are you sure falling to your death is painful?"

"Yes! It's even better if you don't die and end up completely paralysed! You have to eat and piss through a tube! You should jump!"

The man now clearly looked doubtful.

"You know, I'm having second thoughts..."

"Jump!"

"I'm not really sure anymore," the man said. His already existing doubts had been amplified by the masked mans words. After a few moments of deep thought he looked back at the ground...to see that the masked man wasn't there anymore.

"Where did-"

He didn't finish his sentence as the masked man came up behind him and lifted him off his feet. The man must've got inside the building and climbed up to the rooftop. But how-

Akwa threw the man of the roof, where he impacted with a nice squishy sound.

'When I say jump, your only question should be how far!"

He turned to find the crowed staring at him, their mouths agape.

"Hey? What are you looking at? Go off and continue on your meaningless husks of emptiness that you call lives!'

He fired off a few water blasts into the crowd to get them moving.

He dusted his hands off. He was sure that the NYPD would list his death as a 'suicide' and close the case. They might make some sort of a pretense of coming after him but he knew that they'd given up some time ago. Hopefully, he might make the news with this. His general happiness and contentment was shattered when his Wolf Pack Communicator spoke up:


"Lone Wolf Alpha to Wolf Pack.  Assemble at the base in New York. "

Assembling, eh? What could this be about? Probably nothing good. The last time this had happened was during that 'robots from the future incident'. That incident always had been somewhat mysterious. As far as he could remember, it had had no satisfactory resolution at all...

Oh well. Might as well go over there and see. It might be something good for a change.

***********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Akwa frowned as he listened to what Hunter had to say. Not only had Sparda defected to some previously unknown powerful organisation, but the organisation apparently wanted to destroy the Pack! Oh, and they had captured Talon too. That wasn't very nice of them.

But on the bright side...

They had government ninjas.

Well, they were actually bio-engineered super-soldiers from Section 13. Close enough.

Hunter had given each member a specific mission. He seemed to suspect that the Pack's main strongholds would come under attack. Akwa thought the strongholds were supposed to be secret, but it seemed that the Hidden Lotus was very well-informed and would no doubt be a most dangerous foe. Despite their gay name. Honestly, who names a gang of criminals after a flower? What's next? The Fluttering Butterflies?

He approached the large pinned up map of the globe that every team seemed to have in their HQ. He and a unit of government ninjas were to set up around...this base. He liked this base. It should give him an advantage over any particular attackers.

'Move out!'

He and the unit of soldiers walked out the door. Section 13 had been kind enough to grant several planes as well. He and his unit boarded one as it took off, heading for Scotland.

Nightwolf arrived in Japan in secrecy, as with most things he did, Nightwolf liked to move in the shadows. Even his team, did not know of his venture. However, the oppurtunity he had been offered was too great to pass up. He had been contacted in secret by Akira Overdrive, one of the greatest assassins in the world, to join a society of "clans" who like the elements, were balanced, and relied on eachother to force there will onto there enemies. Nightwolf arrived in Japan by way of private helicopter one flown by a no name pilot, who spoke no English. The key was to leave no trail, so as they landed Nightwolf ran the pilot through with his swords. "It's better this way" thought Nightwolf, he needed to make absolutely sure that no one would find out about this alliance until the time was right.

Striding into the room Nightwolf saw lavish preperations, possibly even more lavish then his own HQ back in the states. Nightwolf saw the seats carefully crafted to meet each Generals body specifications. Regardless of how badly he wanted to crack a joke, the setting was too serene for laughter. Nightwolf took his seat. As the other Generals filed in, Nightwolf saw some faces he knew and some he didn't. One particularly stood out to him, the Cajun King himself, Gambler, was in attendance. Nightwolf had so much history with this man, he had given him his start, his chance, and Nightwolf had worked with that and turned it into something. They had left on, at best, uncertain terms, and Nightwolf was curious to see where the Cajun felt there relationship was at.

All thoughts left his mind when Akira began to speak.

"Looks like we are all here.Good.Our plans have been set in motion and we are ready for the second stage.The Wolf Pack seem to believe we would actually stoop low enough to a basic criminal level and try to draw them out,but really we know its all routine.Sparda has several highly trained mercs with him from our splinter cell:Mercenaries, in the Canadian Rockies,so the Hunter will search there,following his scent."

"Darkchild and Graft.I'll need you to infiltrate and destroy their stronghold in Great Britain.Bullet,you and your clan have the task of shutting down there base in Germany.Leave nothing.Nightwolf and Gambler will head to the base in Japan and make it crumble to the ground,since we are so close in proximity I have already activated my sleeper cells in the bases.There security is compromised,and the smaller outhouses have been destroyed.Myself and Wrath will stay here to defend the compound,you'll have tech support from our crew,just radio in,if anything goes wrong will send out our splinter groups for reinforcements."

It was at this that Nightwolf became distracted. He would be working with Gambler, this was going to be interesting. Alot had gone unsaid between them, but there had always been a mutual respect of sorts. Something of a student-mentor relationship. Nightwolf knew this would all have to be dealt with later as he snapped his attention back to Akira

"Generals,brothers.A gift from me,the weapons I have for you are all costumed for you and you only,I've done research and had them all made to be exactly what you look for in and instrument of death.Now let's take what belongs to us."

Nightwolf looked onto the weapon racks and saw the weapons that must be his. Two katanas, in the exact same build as the two he was wearing on his back. The hilts were crafted of diamond, The diamond was dyed blue and black, the colors that Nightwolf wore. The blade itself was pure adamantium, it would be able to slice  through litereally any substance that was known to man. Nightwolf cherished these two new swords, they were easily the most beautiful in his collection.

Nightwolf looked at Akira and nodded in thanks. The master assassin seemed to smirk in recognition. Then Gambler caught Nightwolf's eye, he nodded at him, signaling he was ready to begin there mission. But, Nightwolf noticed something in Gamblers eye, a sadness, as if this was not the mission he would choose if he could. Nightwolf shook it off, it could've been nothing, but he would talk to his mentor later, make sure everything was all right. Beneath that cocky exterior there was a man, just like everyone else, and that man had been through a lot, Nightwolf needed to make sure that Gambler would be fit for this mission.

The two stood side by side, ready to face anything that might get in there way.

Japan: Before

Wolf Pack HQ:

Another neck snapped under his wrinkled hand. His flesh was strong, strong enough to make bullets literally veer into directions unheard of when a gun is aimed and the trigger pulled at someone. His body was old, but his inner workings were new, better than ever. His exposure to yellow sunlight had only bolstered his power. From all those years in a prison, he was glad to be outside. But he had to focus.

"Where's the little freak who stole my tech? I want names, people."

Their answer was a hailstorm of bullets, like it was for the last twenty-or-so minutes. He wasn't satisfied with their idiotic pattern. But he expected just as much. They were humans. They feared what they couldn't control. Some people thought they could control everything, but end up being the emptiest on the inside. It was kind of humorous to the Symaarian. He never really understood what humans thought of to be "good" or "bad." He just thought that helping one side more than another was wrong. That's why he joined in with Hunter and the Wolf Pack.

"Do you want to continue this charade?" he asked, sweeping the crushed shells of expended metal to the floor with a motion of his hand.

"Or do you want to talk?"

They were short on bullets, their clips empty and their hands frantic to reload. He suddenly appeared in front of their triangular formation, lunging with an imposing hand to their leader's throat. The man's feet dangled in the air, panicking and kicking at his enemy's stomach only to be met with sharp pains and future bruises. The Czar admired his bravery, but he was wasting time. With a wink a father would give to his son at the preliminaries of a soccer tournament, he carved the man's face in two, the perfectly vertical line of black ash slumping to either side of the canvass the Symaarian worked with like an artisan to a block of marble; he was working art into intimidation, something that worked for him in the past.

"Look, I'm going to check what was stolen so I can spare about five more seconds playing. While I'm still here, give me names!"

He ripped ahead into the block, knocking soldiers over into unconscious heaps with his outstretched arms or trampling them under his golden boots. The others broke formation and ran, but not fast enough. Though his old exterior gave the illusion of a decrepit old bodybuilder, he caught each of them and wrote his name on their foreheads in hot ash. Lobbing the last man to the ground, rain began to fall. The gutters hummed with the monotonous sound of floodwater. Warsman smiled as he watched a shadow twitch into the distance. He contemplated throwing the nearby truck at it, but ignored the urge and went to inspect the damage in his pocket from the robbery.

---

Two weeks passed since the theft. In Wolf Pack's base in New York, Warsman arrived to find Hunter talking about finding Talon. What happened? He didn't bother to explain. The only reason behind the search-and-rescue operation Warsman was in time to hear was that Talon was in the hands of a foreign, lethal, and secretive organization that had no limits. The Symaarian heard "no limits" and thought Hunter was going overboard. What was the value of this "Talon" girl compared to what the Wolf Pack was protecting? Shouldn't the team be more worried with keeping villains and heroes in check? But his choice was clear. Warsman left the same way he came and disappeared into the sky.

He arrived near the Appalachian Mountains, touching down near a river. It glistened in the noonday sunlight as he knelt for a drink. His ears perked. He was being watched. The rustle of a gun barrel parting the leaves of underbrush became apparent and Warsman grasped the metal in his hand, twisting it to the point of uselessness. The rifleman had no idea what was happening until the Symaarian's imposing frame suddenly blocked the sun. He tried to scurry away like some kind of immense, bipedal squirrel. But Warsman was faster. He burnt a hole through the man's leg and stood over him as he grunted in agony, the shade of the trees adding to his red-hot eyes.

"You have the same scent as the guys who were standing outside my warehouse,"

"I-I can explain!"

"Who do you work for?"

"N-No one! Honestly!"

"B*llshi*t," Warsman grasped the man's throat and dragged him to the river as he kicked and ranted. Ducking his nose and mouth just under the surface, he sputtered as the Symaarian brought him up to breathe.

"Talk,"

"I-I work," a pause for breath.

"WHO?!"

"It's a guy named Graft! I was paid a bonus to track you and shoot you with these," he held up a metal case, which Warsman took in his hand and flipped open.

He took one of the objects inside and held it in front of the sun to identify the substance within it.

"This is a dart filled with mercury, and the tip is adamantium..."

"He thought it would kill you..." he was going into choking sensations from the panicked tears. "I just want to go home,"

"Where do you live?" Warsman asked.

"In Maine. Can you take me there?"

Warsman smiled. He must have thought that he was the hero. The Symaarian grabbed his wrist.

"No. But I can give you a ride there."

With a pulling motion, and by letting go of his wrist, Warsman sent the would-be assassin into the horizon.

Time:  Yesterday - 10:00pm
Place: Hellfire & Brimstone Bar & Club - New York City

     "Hey there, pretty baby.  Hey, where ya goin'? I don't bite."  He touches her shoulder; it's ice cold.  She stops walking and turns to face him.  Her irises are blood red.  
    
     *Crack!*  At the moment where shock and fear meet, she backhands him...and breaks his jaw.  The drunk's senseless body slumps to the ground in the alleyway he was standing in.  The young lady stops to check for bystandards.  A newspaper rolls across the street, and a single car passes by, too quickly to see her.  She smiles, revealing two sets of razor fangs.  Good, no one was watching. 
     She drags the man deeper into the dark alley and then leans over him, snickering.  "No...but I do."  She moves forward--
    
     *Snik*  As the girl's lips touch the man's neck, her head rolls over his shoulder, sliced off from a perfect cut.  The silent assassin stands over their motionless bodies.  Aside from the bloody long knives, her appearance is that of a hooker:  sleeveless spandex-like top that had a V down to her stomach, black short-shorts with a rhindstone studded belt, glittering high-heels and several pieces of jewelry; the exact same as those that the decaptiated girl is wearing.  She serches the dead vampire girl's clothes and finds a pass to the Hellfire & Brimstone Bar & Club.  She smiles.  Bingo.
     
     The assassin studies the I.D., and forms a mental picture in her mind.  Her black, shoulder-length hair melts into honey-blond curles, and her unnaturally-pale skin darkens a shade.  Now a perfect replica, she tosses her knives into the air, and they vanish in a flash of red light.
     
     Leaving the bodies in the dark alley to be found in the morning, the killer heads down the block to the bar.  She gets in easily, gaining a few stares and whistles upon entering.  The "social" room of the club was in the basement: the place where all the sick, business cockroaches of NYC spent their Fridays.  She goes down the staires, eyes blazing an icey-blue sheen, and focuses on finding her target. 
     
     Following the rogue vampire girl was easy considering that she always stopped for a "snack" before her trips to the club, but the next man on her hit list had eluded her for years.  Until tonight.  The trademark smirk appeared on her face.  Warlocks always messed up eventually.
    
     The social room's door was a thick slab of steel with four locks and was being guarded by a giant-wresler of a man.  She held up her I.D. pass; he smileed wickedly, and his eyes flash a glowing, neon-green.  She rolled her eyes as he unlocked the door.  Great...fairies were invited to the party.  This is gonna suck, She moaned mentally.
    
     The assassin walks into the scene of pounding rap music and flashing lights.  She looks around, observing.  Fey creatures swayed on the dancefloor in jerky motions, a group of gothic-looking vampires huddled in the corner, playfully biting at one another's necks, and several Siren strippers swung around on their poles, occationally leading unsuspecting victims back to the dark corners of the room where they would rip out the men's souls.
     The assassin crinkles her nose in disgust.  She hates these clubs; she spent much of her previous Elvin life killing these abominations in their sleep.  But now--
     She bites her tongue.  Focus.  Find Victor Fuego.  She takes a step forward onto the dancefloor, hopeing to see him. And everything stops.  The music, the lights flashing, the dancing...everyone freezes and stares at her, their glowing multi-colored eyes laughing at her about something she doesn't yet know.
    
     Crap... she realizes, as the crowd parts and a man dressed in black pants and a black silk shirt walks onto the dancefloor, his purple eyes and white hair catching her attention.  He stops and holds his hands out in a welcoming gesture.
    
     "Sylver darling! It's been too long!  Was it France in 1983?"  Silence.  He chuckles. "Ahhh...I see. Still as rude and stubborn as ever.  And now you're stealing people's identities...how pathetic."  Sylver shook her head.  
    
     "Well, it's certainly flattering to see that you remember me, Victor, but as I recall, we only met because you turned 301 people inside out for kicks."  She retorted.  The warlock shrugged carelessly.  
    
     "It seemed amusing at the time.  But I've got more important things to do now...like attend to my interrupted guests. Now please, go bother some other busy creature of the underworld." He said aggitated.  He turned his back on her.  Bad move.  Sylver lunged, pulling a silver stake out of her shorts and aiming it at the warlock's heart.  
    
     *Whack*  Sylver hit the floor after a crowbar bashed off of her face.  The split in her skin healed, and she barred her fangs, moving into a striking position. How the heck'd he get a crowbar? Sylver wondered. Victor's face was now covered in black veins, his eyes, colorless marbles.  A warlock was a half-demon with black magic and a bad attitude, which gave Sylver more than enough reasons to kill him.  She gripped the stake tighter and--
    
     *Beep, beep, beep*  Sylver felt like someone had just poured concrete over her; there was absolutly no way to ruin this moment any better than by her Wolf Pack communicator.  She stood up straight and pressed the device in her ear.  She glanced at Vicor.  
    
     "Ummm....Can I take this and then we can kill each other?"  Sylver asked.  Victor shrugged..again. 
     "Uhhh...sure.  Go ahead."
     * "Lone Wolf Alpha to Wolf Pack.  Assemble at the base in New York.  Sylver, lock onto me and teleport me to that location.  We have work to do..." *
    
     Sylver smacked her forehead in disbelief.  Her luck just couldn't get any better.  Victor was leaning on a table, arms crossed in bordum. 
     "Duende."  She summoned her Staff, pulling it out of her body.  That unnverved a few people.  Victor shouted at them to be quiet.
     "Just what are you doing?" He asked incredulously.
     "Taking care of my terriblely-timed team mates.  It's a downgrade from slowly tearing out your internal organs, but I suppose I'll deal with it."
     "Wow...that sucks.  I was kinda hopeing for an exciting evening.  Ya sure you won't stay?"  He asked, quite calmly.
     "Yeah...I'm sure.  The world's probably at stake, so I gotta fly.  Later, FUEGO."  Sylver said emphatically, walking out towards the door.  Victor waved. 
    
     "That's too bad.  Maybe we'll meet again some ti--"  His eyes froze open just before bursting into a pillar of spontaneous black flames.  The fire ceased, but Sylver was already out the door, laughing at the irony of how his last name meant "fire" and that he died in the Hellfire Bar.
      Sylver held up her Staff.  She sighed, "Well, Hunter, the world and all humanity had better be worth this aggrivation."
     Prying herself away from yet another fun filled evening, Sylver teleported both her and William to the New York City base.

Time: today - 3:00am
Place: Wolf Pack NYC Base

     Sylver was ticked, on account of many reasons, but three in particular.  One, Talon was missing, or rather, kidnapped by the Hidden Lotus.  Two, Sparda had betrayed them.  And three, they were making her work with robots.  Sylver didn't care if the hunks of metal were super-soldiers or able to toast bread; she hated robots.  Too unreliable and too stupid.  But, as usual, her personal war on overly-advanced tech couldn't be taken into consideration when an extreamist group of majorly-zelous world conquerers were at their doorstep.  Literally.
    
     Dressed in her usual black leather pants, one-shoulder cut-off top, and boots, Sylver yawned lazily as she was directed to the room where the super-robos were waiting.  Rolling her eyes, the vampire-Elf stood in front of the ten blue and steel-grey cyborgs, twirling her long knives in her hands before putting them back into their sheathes.  
    
     I could probably slice these buggers in three seconds. Tops, Sylver assumed confidently.  She didn't like working with things that she could kill herself.  Too low of a service level as far as she was concerned.  The rest of her concern was being saved for Talon.  She loved that girl like a sister, and knew that no matter what the Hidden Lotus was doing to her, she wouldn't give in.   Sylver summoned her Staff.
 
     But that didn't mean that they couldn't hurry a little faster.  The robots were human-like in shape, and their red glowing eyes followed Sylver's movement.  She pointed the Staff at them.
    
     "Ok, here's the plan.  We are going to Scotland, aka, the Great Britain base.  We will fortify it and keep everyone and anyone out.  And if ANYTHING goes wrong, I don't want none of this crap about statistics and most likely chances of survival.  So if you've got that programmed in your system, unplug it, or I'll rearrange you into a super-toaster-oven.  Get it? Got it? Good.  We're off.  *a transporta la Scotland Base* "


Time: today - 1:03am
Place: Wolf Pack Scotland Base

     A red flash exploded from in the middle of the room, and ten robots, one vampire, landed on the stone floor.  The light faded to pitch black, but Sylver turned around to see her accomplices. 
     "Everybody in one piece?" She asked, in a please-let-them-be-dead tone of sarcasm.
     "Yes, Agent Sylver, all ten titanium-alloy cyborgs of Sector 13 of the United States of--"
     "Never mind, Webster.  Now where are the darn lamps?"  Sylver cut in.  She'd been here several times before, but somehow, every time, someone rearranged the furniture.
     "I do not believe Webster is a suitable code for my description.  I am model 1389--"
     "Just shut up and look for the lamps.  Ah, wait, found 'em."  Sylver reached out her hand to touch its brass handle.  " *Fuego* "
    
     The room was illuminated immediatly, with several old-fashioned oil-lamps lining the grey stone walls.  They were in the main foyer of the mansion, just in front of the cherry-wood double doors.  Sylver breathed in the relaxing scent of pine and roses.  She had to admit, this was a nice place for a base.  She looked around at the many valuable swords and family-insigna shields that adorned the walls, and stained-glass windows placed at least fifteen feet above her.  At least the decor wasn't too boring.  
     
     Sylver clapped her hands together.  "Ok, let's get started."  Sylver pulled out one of her knives and made a long slit down her arm.  Her blackish-purple blood began to seep out as she smothered some on her hands and began walking over to the first corner of the house. 
     "Agent Sylver! Why are you causing self-inflicted damage to your arm?  The wound must be treated before--"
    
     "Webster, I'm dead. I don't care.  Read my lips. Don't. Care."  Sylver began drawing a large symbol on the stone wall, smearing it with her blood.  They probably gave me the one that talks the most on purpose, Sylver fumed.  "I'm putting symbols of protection on the four corners of the house.  Yes, William will probably kill me for ruining the masonry, but maybe the fact that it keeps out all and any forms of physical intruders, will hopefully spare my soul.  No teleporters or phasers will get through here, or ghosts.  But I doubt that the Hidden Lotus works with enraged spirits.  Now hush.  If I mess this up, it could open a portal to Hell or engulf the entire country in fire.  And we don't want that, do we, Webster?" She explained as if speaking to a three-year old.
     "My code is not We--"
     "Ok, glad you understand." 
     Fifteen minutes later, the symbols were painted, and Sylver sent the cyborgs to the basement so that she could contact everyone from the computer room.  From romantic medival to cold-steel walls, the appearance changed drastically as the descending stairs opened up at the bottom into a large, well-lit room, lined with high-tech computers.  Sylver slid into a swival chair and put on a head-set.  
    
     "Sylver to Wolf Pack, I am set up at the Scotland Base.  Everything is in place, and I am engaging outside and inside weapons systems to be on alert mode.  If anyone wants in, you'll have to contact me to teleport you.  Over and out."
    
     Sylver rubbed her eyes as a headache began to form.  The spell was definatly working, but it would drain her over a period of time.  She looked up at the clock.  1:18.  She would have to re-paint the symbols every twelve hours to keep them strong.  Sylver looked up at Webster.  
    
     "Send five of you outside to guard around the moat.  And please," She half-whined, half-begged, "be inconspicuous.  The rest of you, one to each floor.  Webster, you stay down here with me."
     "My code is not--"
     "Just shut up."

The meeting had concluded and the Hidden Lotus departed with their instructions. Akira had issued a standard two by two cover formation deployment along with state of the art PDA's with the mission parameters individually uploaded. Each detail was methodically laid out. Gambler's eyes briefly scrolled over the schematics as he exited the room. His partner for this assignment was none other then Nightwolf. A former LaS affiliate and current leader of the Quantum Syndicate. A true villain who had studied at the right hand of Esther Cotillard LeBeau. Taking the knowledge and prestige of such an honor and utilizing it to formulate his own, up and coming criminal enterprise. Gambler could tell his former teammate was looking for some sort of acknowledgment, a gesture or sign of respect. But the Cajun was noticeably distracted as he kept a constant visual on a small hand held device. "Come on, come on" he whispered to himself. Finally a small red flash resonated from the device which seemed to bring a devilish smile to the assassins face.

Nonchalantly he slid his hand into his cloak before addressing Nightwolf. "Tis good to see you again mon ami. Let us take dis opportunity to put any animosity between us aside. Tonight the Wolf's Lair shall burn." he smirked. "Why don't you run up ahead and get dee transport ready. We leave in 10." Turning around allowing the cape of his cloak to flow freely behind him as he headed in the opposite direction. Once out of the Quantum Syndicate leader's view he shot up grabbing the rafters of the Shinto and pulling himself up, making his way to the roof. With the stealth of a Mongoose and the speed of a Black Mamba he moved across the compound. Commandeering one of Akira's prized Kawasaki Ninja ZX -10R motorcycles. Spitting gravel and dirt as it spun around in a stylish 360 before speeding off into the night.

Several hours later the King of King's stood atop a peer overlooking a secret compound. Armed guards patrolled the outer parameter while snipers hid among the tree line and outlining area. It wasn't a massive show of force but skill over rides numbers anyday and no one understood this better then Akira. These men weren't there to keep something from getting in, but to keep whatever was inside from getting out. "Found you" Gambler said to himself before driving down to the front gate. Immediately the Cajun was surronded. "WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!?!?" barked one of the guards. With his hands already in the air, Gambler slowly peeled back his hood to reveal his face. "You recognize me no?" asked the LeBeau Legacy. "SIR YES SIR. We weren't expecting you sir. I should call Mr. Overdrive and get clearance sir."

Gambler laughed and shook his head. "Yes my friend, you could do dat. And then you could explain to him why your bothering him with such a trivial matter while his on a mission." his words causing the mercenary to doubt himself. "No no, your right sir. Go on in." With a slight head nod the Cajun continued on. Entering the restricted zone, he made his way inside. Both walls were lined with manned surveillance stations while at the end of the hall sat a single armored door. "Is she in there?" Gambler asked. "Yes sir, you can see her right here" pointed one of the guards. "We're all taking bets on when she'll crack. She's already talking to herself and a little over an hour ago she slammed the back of her head against the wall." laughed another.

"Hm" smirked the deadly assassin. "And what are the odds on her escaping tonight?" he asked with his trademark Cheshire Cat grin. Then without warning Gambler twirled around while simultaneously unsheathing his blade. Dropping down into a crouching position as he sliced through the midsections of three guards. Instantly the others opened fire. But  the Living Legend mimicking the movements of Tenjin, launched himself into a spiraling corkscrew flip allowing the bullets to pass by underneath causing the guards to gun themselves down. As he landed the bullet ridden body of the last guard collapsed.

There was no time to waste. Any minute the compound would be on full alert and escape would be all but impossible. Overriding the auto locks the cell door cracked open. Gambler swung the giant metal door open to reveal the prisoner, Talon. Her hair was stringy and uncared for and her eyes squinted as if they hadn't been subjected to light in days. "Here, put dis on." he said as he threw his cloak inside the cell. "Come with me if you want to live chere."

Throwing a black trench coat on, he turned to Darkchild, nodded his head and smirked a sh!t eating grin, only to be continued by saying "Lets kill some wolves". As the words befell his lips, he'd press a small button in the palm of his hand. Allowing a large bubble of pink energy to engulf his hand, which would then transform into a shield.  The hulking behemoth followed shortly behind the Military Darkhorse as they went to their vehicle of choice, Choosing a small black lean motorcycle, Graft sped off at the speed of thought into the darkness itself, his black trench flowing behind him.


Ring ring ring, Taking his hand off the steering handles for a moment, Ralph pulled out his cell-phone and answered quickly, his impious smile distorted as he switched to a more serious note. "What?" He snapped at the man on the other side. Obviously disapointed his joyride to Scotland had been interrupted by the bumbling guard.
"Warsman...he knows"
"WHAT THE F@CK DO YOU MEAN HE KNOWS?"
"One of us told him your name. Graft, he wants to kill you. Someone told him about the adamantium dart"
"You imbeciles" He retorted throwing the phone underneath the wheels of his motorbike before speeding off to the nearest air-port.

__

Scotland

Speaking into his communicator ear-piece, specially crafted to fit his ear, made by the Hidden Lotus. Graft spoke to Darkchild whose weight was no doubt causing him to lag behind severely. "Darkchild, I'm infront of base.Now if The Lotus's plans are correct, their armory should have several bombs inside of it. Meaning if we can get those bombs, We can blow this sh!t to kingdom come and then move onto to next mission. In other words, I get the bombs, you take out the douchebags. Sound good?"

Lotus petals littered the ground around Revan who sat indian style, hands folded around the jedi's most sacred weapon the lightsaber. The room held no furniture. Just a dark chamber with many columns surrounding a circular space in the center of the room. With great effort Revan used his amazing skill with the force to construct this mediatation chamber and from this chamber he could harness his senses to feel the actions going on throughout the base. The chamber also allowed him to channel his power and emotion through the force giving him the strength and will to draw from both the dark and the lightside when needed.  Inhaling deeply Revan began to meditate, the anger inside him slowly calming as the lotus petals began to rapidly change color. Slowly morphing to a vibrant red then following up with a light sky blue. The lotus petals rose and a blue fog filled the room as Revan fell deep in meditation. The sounds of footsteps was the first introduced until he dove deeper. The chatter of random meaningless chat followed and once again he delved deeper. Now the sounds of gushing water as it ran through the piping system was available to him.

The sight was next, peering into the debriefing room where the generals of the Hidden Lotus sat in discussion his view was cloudy giving him images of distorted shapes and blended colors. With a bit of focus the clouded view peeled back like a cutain revealing a pixel perfect picture of the men as they sat around the table discussing the mission.  "Looks like we are all here.Good.Our plans have been set in motion and we are ready for the second stage.The Wolf Pack seem to believe we would actually stoop low enough to a basic criminal level and try to draw them out,but really we know its all routine.Sparda has several highly trained mercs with him from our splinter cell:Mercenaries, in the Canadian Rockies,so the Hunter will search there,following his scent. Darkchild and Graft.I'll need you to infiltrate and destroy their stronghold in Great Britain. Bullet,you and your clan have the task of shutting down there base in Germany.Leave nothing.Nightwolf and Gambler will head to the base in Japan and make it crumble to the ground,since we are so close in proximity I have already activated my sleeper cells in the bases.There security is compromised,and the smaller outhouses have been destroyed.Myself and Wrath will stay here to defend the compound,you'll have tech support from our crew,just radio in,if anything goes wrong will send out our splinter groups for reinforcements. Generals,brothers.A gift from me,the weapons I have for you are all costumed for you and you only,I've done research and had them all made to be exactly what you look for in and instrument of death.Now let's take what belongs to us."

Revan scoffed at the idea. The technology used for the creation of a Lightsaber was beyond the best this galaxy had to offer and no weapon could match it in battle. His thoughts drifted away from the gift and to the place he was designated to lay siege too. He had little knowledge of Germany beyond the propaganda uttered through the land of this province. In a War amongst the population this province suffered a most gruesome defeat at the hands of "allied nations." In Revans eyes interpanetary conflict was w waste of sentient life and for ones sharing this single planet they should be more wary of the destruction they cause. But being shut out to the force as they are there blindness is to be expected. Exiting his meditative position he rised, placing his lightsaber on his belt next to the other one he carried. His cloak danced gracefully with each step he made as Revan walked towards the briefing room to speak to Bullet ride, his clans leader.

The guards gave him peculiar looks and as he entered there thoughts one dared to question whether the jedi could see through the mask. As he whispered something to another guard the two developed malicious smiles. as Revan glided past them the footsteps of one could be heard. Creeping up beside him he payed no mind until the guard waved there hand in front of his face. Without a single twich Revan used the force to squeeze his throat whilst suspending him high in the air. Turning to the man stared into his eye where great fear was present. Revan focused on the hand the guard had used to taunt the powerful jedi and forced it up until the fingers were inches away from the mettalic shield that covered his face. Slowly the finger moved back until you could hear the bones crack one by one. The man fought to let out screams but soon realized the lack of air prevent this. As the 5th figer succumbed to the power of the force the man dropped to the ground like a puppet unconscious. The othere guard shook violently, panicking in fear of what might happen to him. Revan looked to the frightened man and his pants suddenly darkened with liquid in the crotch area. Turning away Revan made his way down the corridor and through the archway. His leader held a guantlet with razor sharp blades attached to it in his hand. A most savage weapon in his opinion. walking up to the side of him he spoke with a warm, hushed tone. "When are we leaving?"

Akwa sat with his unit of super-soldiers as they sat in the plane, waiting for it to reach it's destination. The soldiers were perfectly disciplined, sitting upright. All attempts made by Akwa for conversation had failed. So, he had settled to just listening to Wolf Pack communicator, to see if anything interesting was happening.

"Sylver to Wolf Pack, I am set up at the Scotland Base.  Everything is in place, and I am engaging outside and inside weapons systems to be on alert mode.  If anyone wants in, you'll have to contact me to teleport you.  Over and out."

What? Sylver was defending the Scotland Base as well? He hadn't known that. And she had not apparently known that Akwa was going to defend the base as well. And she had activated the weapon systems. This was going to be awkward. How was he and his men going to get in?

They were going to have to parachute jump out of the plane and land outside of the Base's Defence Perimeter. From there, he could radio Sylver to let them in. He didn't want her to try and teleport them while they were still in the plane. They were constanly moving at a high velocity and that could potentially screw up the teleport. It was better this way. He informed the pilot of the new plan and settled back to wait.

Within a few minutes, the alert sounded. Without a word, the soldiers got up and put on their parachute packs. With a grunt, one of them opened the hatch. One by one, they jumped out, engaging their parachutes on the way down.

It was Akwa's turn. He grabbed a parachute pack, strapped it onto his back and jumped off the plane, somehow doing a flip as he did so.

'Geronimo!'

He pulled the cord and his parachute opened. Below him, he could see the super-soldiers and below him he could see the fort that was their Scottish Base. He angled himself down towards the nearby paddock that had been designated as the landing area.

After the landing, which went without incident, he pulled out his communicator as he and the soldiers began to walk towards the base.

"Sylver, this is Akwa. I need a teleport of myself and ten soldiers into Scot Base. We are approaching now."

He was about to emerge from the bushes and walk in front of the base when he saw something that shouldn't have been there. With frantic hand signals, he and the soldiers took cover.

There was a man standing in front of the base. He didn't know whether Sylver had seen him yet and he wasn't about to ask. At this distance, he couldn't make out the man's features but he could see that he was wearing a black trenchcoat.

"This guy looks like he gets his wardrobe straight from the Wachowski Brothers," he muttered under his breath.

Silently, the soldiers took out their rifles and aimed them at the man. The man probably had backup but it didn't matter. Not to Akwa. All that mattered at the moment was that this man was not going to see another tomorrow.

'Fire'

Lycan Underground Colony - New York City

Jason could draw his attention of his gift,he ran his finger across each blade of the gauntlet, with a maniacal sparkle in his eye's like a jester gaze." god damn....the cold surface, the blades sharpness, its just to much for me to handle at once"he began to go crazy thinking about using his new weapon in battle, it was like opening a gift before Christmas.Soon the sounds of faint grunts muffled behind the automatic door. Jason pondered of he was the only one that heard it."When are we leaving?" Jason lept up into the air like a startled cat as he looked beside him.. That's when he noticed the  dark cloaked figure, it was nothing other then Revan.a skilled warrior foreign to this world, Jason never bothered to ask him about his place of origin, simply because he was a little frightened of the guy, he was simply to hollow. " dude you really have to work on making some type of noise before you actually say something to me, clap or something jesus.." Just by looking at Revans expression, it seemed he was apathetic to Jason's wants and needs." well....anyway...well be heading out asap, so get all of your sh!t ready, traveling with me is optional, i dont know how you feel about helicopter,by the way, have you heard anything from quality?"

Qaulity was the most recent addition to The Hidden Lotus, when  found he was nothing but a robot, capable of slaying a whole brigade without the assitance of humans, but now he has reached his limits, no longer a robot due to an exchange with gloom the wish maker. Qaulity made his debut with The Heavens Clan, a lethal weapon, feared by most who crossed paths with his deleterious technique. Even Bullet Ride had to stay in his place when it came down to combat with the illustrious combatant.Of all the clans Jason felt more comforatble with his , despite the cultural differences, they still had each others back no matter what. Jason wouldnt pick any other warriors to take their place as his Sky Guardians.

Jason left the room leaving Revan behind so he could prepare his pernicious weapons of death. He couldnt wait to see what trinity wolpack member he was going against.Sparda had told akira that each trinity member had there own base stationed far from the main facility.Jason knew who ever it was couldnt handle the might of The Hidden Lotus, they were full of to many legends that could inflict maignant tactics that could leave death creeping upon you.

after walking through the Asian cultural facility, he made hs way into a computer research room, were he usually searched for different types of solid material were he could create his weapons." now let me get more info about this little mission im heading off to, dont want to walk into something im not prepared for"Jason  removed a Usb like device from his neck and put it into one of the cpu driver ports. as he waited for the program from the device to upload,a us army lgo with the name "Black Label" was displayed as the loading screen" Hello Jason, what can i do for you today sir?" it was none other then his human like Technical data retriever " Gab/3xp", "Gab i need you to give me a summary on the wolpack Germany base " No problem Jason"The screen became pixelated and bright, the sound of a signal lost became discordant, as Jason covered his ears and banged on the keyboard madly" GOD DAMMIT STOP" Jason yelled loudly, silence creep over the room as his ears rang from the loud sound. The cpu monitor became black"fuk, what the hell am i going to do now? i think we can handle this mission, but it wouldnt hurt to be safe?"jason removed his device from the computer, and kicked the monitor with a forceful thrust." oh well, let me get ready for all of this bullsh!t to come..."

6 hours later

The Heavens Clan courtyard was filled with soldiers dressed in the traditional Heavens clan padded leather armor , with the structure similar to Shadow Storm. They stood robust by the hundreds, as hollow as a necromantic soul, each warrior identical to another 3 rows stood adjacent one another , as The Shadow Storm stood beside his well trusted Shadow executive Revan."  Today....is the day.....The dawn of a new Era" Fist thrust into the air in excitement, but quickly silenced by the raise of the hand from The Shadow General" The Wolpack,....our new adversary, threatens the progression to our new development, we shall not let them cross ours paths and live the day to tell it, all will die , no apologizes, no remorse, no excuses, no second thoughts, we will flood the vermin like the day of noahs arc. and lay down the hammer of victory amongst them as if they were small nails. We fight for glory, and what wee seek, will become reality , NOW  COME MY BROTHERS, GRAB YOUR WEAPON OF REGULATION, AS THIS TRIBULATION WILL BECOME A HISTORICAL FACTOR....for the hidden lotus...THANK YOU

Loud roars of adrenaline erupted in the courtyard, as mask are tossed up into the air. The birth of a new era is at hand , the fetus is being nurtured as we speak, the more hardships, the more we develop. Nothing can stand in the path of our 7 clans, lives will be taken, and forsaken from their false truth, their sevenfold will not be avenged , as the avengers, are here. So many times have these warriors tried to survive this harsh world through there complicated ay of living, now that the simplest way has been found , They shall not fall. All hail the hidden lotus......

Darkchilds ride was rather irritating as the bike of the choosing was a small motorcycle that Darkchild barely fit on. Yet the rum of the engine filled him with a certain joy and with a screech of the tires he sped out from the hanger door the bike leaping into the air before slamming hard onto the concrete. The airport was not far and he was more following and soon they had arrived at the airport. The security were frantic as he walked into the door ducking below so he could get in he stood behind Graft and soon without incident they were on the HLS charter plane and in hours they were at their destination

Scotland Base.

They had split up Graft heading along from and Darkchild taking a detour towards the side of the compound. He could hear the clatter of the soldiers footsteps running in a hurry to the front of the compound. His axe sat on his back latched on he was a hulking monstrocity as he stood in the midnight air with a glaring smile and soon Graft sounded in through the earpiece "Darkchild, I'm infront of base.Now if The Lotus's plans are correct, their armory should have several bombs inside of it. Meaning if we can get those bombs, We can blow this sh!t to kingdom come and then move onto to next mission. In other words, I get the bombs, you take out the douchebags. Sound good?" With a smile Darkchild tapped his earpiece "Sounds good to me. Been ready to use this baby since we got it ten hours ago, By the way their heading your direction. Rifles ready by the looks of it, But dont worry I wont give them time to focus squarly on you. Not that im all heroic i simply want to kill something." With that he tapped it again cutting it off switching the volume to Max he pulled out an ipod with a grin he starts tapping his feet as BODIES starts to play leaving one ear for his comlink an the other for the headset he walks up to the side door.

A guard sits trying to light his cig mumbling to himself " Whenever theirs something good Im always stuck out here. F@#king bastards get all the fun, damn f@#king lighter." Darkchild walks up the music can be heard as he walks up "Need a light?" the guard turns around "Oh thanks." then looking to the large hand holding a lighter he looks up." Dammit" The guard looks up at Darkchild who has a wide grin. Then grabbing the Axe he swiftly pulls it from behind him an slamming it down onto the guard, who for a moment twitches mouthing the word "F@#k" before falling in two. His walkie starts going off and Darkchild picks it up "This is your captain speaking, due to some unforseen events you are all about to die horrible and painful deaths." Then balling his fist it glows with energy an he slams it into the wall and it erupts in a loud echoing explosion, the explosion alerting the nearby guards an they all swarm the area and as Darkchild walks through the dust he smiles and starts into a run. Swinging left an right with the axe he cleaves through the guards cutting them in two an in pieces before slamming through a wall and skidding to a stop as guards surround him all their weapons cocked an ready the leader of the ground screams the order to fire and a hail of gunfire slams into Darkchild.

As the gunfire slowly stops they all stare in wonder as DC brushes himself off an looks to his jacket with an angry look on his face "Do you all realize how expensive and difficult it is to find a coat my size?!!" And he bolts forward spinning the Axe in front of him as they reload an fire again the bullets richocheting and slamming into the guards around him. Spinning around he pulls the shotgun out and using it as a bat in one hand he slams it into the gut of the lead guard who falls to the ground as all his ribs shatter as the butt of the gun slams itno him. Flipping the gun he puts it to the guards chin an pulls the trigger the guards head exploding, wiping the blood from his face he taps the comlink "I think Ive gotten their attention. Time for your show." and he swings as the music in his ear blasts leaping into another group of guards.

Sparda was reclining in his chair, feet up on the desk in front of him. He looked quite content and not at all worried about the inevitable confrontation that was to come with the Wolf Pack. Suddenly, the phone on his desk began to ring. He raised up one of his booted feet and slammed it down on the desk. As a result, the receiver on the phone flew into the air, and fell back down into his hand. He brought it up to his ear.

"Yeah?"

On the other end was the voice of one of the men working at the containment facility.

"Sir, you'll want to see this. I'm bringing it up on your monitor now..."

Sparda lowered the receiver, but did not hang up. A small screen rose out of his desk, and on it was security footage from less than sixty seconds ago. In the black and white footage, the Cajun and Lotus general Gambler himself killed a small squad of men-the same men who were guarding Talon's cell. He raised the receiver back up to his ear.

"What should we do, sir?", the soldier asked.

"Hang back and relax. I'll call you if I need you". Before the man could say any more, Sparda hung the phone up and grabbed his jacket. With a swirl, he put it on, and grabbed his dual pistols. He walked out the automatic door, grabbing his sword off of the resting place on the wall while he was at it. He walked casually down two corridors, hanged a right, and entered the main entrance. The security checkpoints were manned, and the guards-who no doubt heard the combat-looked visibly anxious. Sparda mocked a salute going by, before turning down the hallway to Talon's cell.

At the end was the legend himself, Gambler, and the Wolf Pack member Talon. He called out.

"Hey, french fry! If I knew you were gonna show up, I would've prepared a better welcome party for you. As it is, it's just me.....and you. Girl doesn't count for much, I don't think, unless she can dance."

He reached behind his back and gripped the hilt of his sword, waiting for either to make a move.

Sighing, he watched the misty cloud of vapor exit his respiratory tract. Just outside of Earth's atmosphere, he could literally just take a finger and map out the borders of cities, countries, and his eyes monitored the masses moving below him like ants. He peered into the face of the planet, focused more on twitching his attention to something regarding a "Graft" persona. His ears perked up to a cell phone being disconnected in Scotland. There was a brief moment of agitation and yelling from the clearer voice and from the opposite line, the name popped up. The Symaarian smiled slyly.

"My turn you lousy hippie,"

A gaseous bubble exploded as Warsman broke the sound barrier, carrying a faint crack and whistle as he crashed through the atmosphere. His heat-resistant clothes sparked and he mimicked the image of a comet coming to smack Earth in the face for being in the way. Warsman brought his arms from in front of him to his sides to decrease frictional drag and laughed. He laughed! Entombed in five-hundred degree flames and hurtling toward a rocky mass of soil and stone, he was laughing.

Graft stole from him. He stole very important things --- documents, weapons, jewels, anything shiny he could get his hands on --- and left without the alarm going off or the sentries realizing what happened. Graft literally signed his own death warrant. Warsman was just enforcing it like a lawyer would a will. It was the least the Wolf Pack member could do. It was justice. He was stopping a criminal from stealing again, even if he had to tear off his hands and feet to keep it that way. Landfall, and the ground split into an eruption of dirt and grass. The Symaarian emerged from a crater about fifteen feet deep, according to how little moonlight he could see. He leaped and floated in midair as he scanned the surrounding countryside. He sniffed. The smell from the other night was near, the smell of wet dirt scattered by a specific boot and the smell of sweat as it lingered in the warehouse and seemed to vanish, but only to human noses. He found where it stopped and he took off.

A few minutes later and he discovered Graft talking smugly into a communicator. Smiling, Warsman hovered for a few minutes to see if the theif would notice. If not, he would descend.

"You got yourself into trouble deeper than what you can imagine. Do you realize just who you stole from two weeks ago?"

Disappearing, he would reappear directly in front of Graft, lurching out while in mid-invisibility with an imposing hand to enclose Graft's chin like a pair of scissors to a folded sheet of paper.

"You steal from me, you get whipped like a mule. Start yelling."

Pulling back a fist, whether or not Graft would evade his initial grabbing motion, he would throw it at him with speed surpassing the fastest bullet.

The giver of light,the sun began to retreat behind the mystic mountains in which the Hidden Lotus was wrapped.Its outter appearance began to fade,for it could only be seen in the sun's light.Akira paced back and forth trying to think about his next move,in the battle on two fronts.He was playing his General of the Earth Clan,D.wrath in a game of chess and had cornered the king,it almost seemed over,but the master strategist Wrath soon brought a new rising and moved the king from his position then captured the White King.

Akira,viewed the board and knocked over his king.He had been winning the battle,but lost the war and he pondered as the red alert insignia flashed on the massive screen which was the backdrop as AO played D.Wrath.The Ghost in the Machine stood up and looked at the screen as it began to pixilized into a larger view,zooming in on footage of his second in command,Gambler infiltrating the hidden complex where he hid Talon and Sparda watched over.The Visionary grimaced at the sight but kept his compsure,then looked back to D.wrath,giving the signal for his general to accompany Sparda in case there was any other suprises.Thinking to himself Akira paced the floor,until he spoke out to one of his majors to ready the complex for its secret weapon,a weapon that was almost premature in uncovering its power,but AO would take no chances.


As the unknown weapon was being prepared the General of Lotus watched on all screens his team and there progress.He still waited to be contested in his own court,but was ready for it regardless.

Time: 4:55am
Place: Wolf Pack Scotland Base

     "I will remain calm...I will not get angry...calm...I am calm.  Perfectly cal--"
     "Agent Sylver, might I asky why you are sitting on the ceiling muttering to yourself?"
     "Because Webster, I'm a paranoid scitzaphrenic with absolutely no grasp of the thin parallel called reality."
     "I highly doubt that.  Your file has no recording of any mental dimentia--"
    
     Sylver glared down at the robot, eyes coal black.  "Then in that case, I wish I was suffering from an extreame delusion.  Perhaps in that reality, you do not exist and the world is not ending, and I am not really a creature of the underdark that would tear off your head and drink your blood if you had any to speak of!  Now please, leave me to my mutterings; they are far more relaxing than your presense."  She hissed, annoyed to the point of snapping.  She would definatly be speaking to Hunter about this.  Robots...the nerve!
    
     "Very well, Agent Sylver.  I will be waiting upstairs if you need me."  The cyborg answered, taking no affect from her sarcasm, and began walking up the metal stairs.  Sylver remained sitting cross-legged on the ceiling, rubbing her temples.
      "I swear, if these are what we call "super" soldiers; we're all gonna die." 
     *Beep, beep, beep*  Sylver moaned.  "And yet another poitless existance of technology come back to haunt me."  Letting gravity take control once again, Sylver flipped right-side-up and landed on her feet.  She picked up her communicator off of the black, metal desk.
     *Text message from Wolf Pack:  Sylver, you accidently took the guard robots instead of the soldiers.  Akwa should be arriving with his group shortly.  Good luck.*
    
     The computer room was silent for a moment.  Sylver tilted her head back, eyes closed.  "I must have commited some sort of heinous sin in the past hundred years to suffice for this judgement."  She chuckled, out of the irony of it all, and began to walk up the long stairwell to the upstairs mansion. 
    
     The stupid robot was in the living room, standing at the doorway like he would do some good if the Hidden Locus came crashing in.  Sylver snickered.  Yeah, maybe as a doorstop.
     Webster turned to face her.  "Is something the matter, Agent Sylver?" 
     Sylver slowly walked up to him and placed one of her gloved hands on his metal chest.  "Actually, Webster, there is.  Tell me, are you really the Super-soldiers of Sector 13?"
     "Well, no.  I am a guard."  Stupid, stupid, dang robot...
     "Really?"  A smile crept on her face.
     "Yes, in fact, I am of the manufacturing model 13--"
    
     *snik--thunk*  The robot's head rolled to the floor, red eyes dying out like a battery.  Sylver placed her titanium-Elvin metal fused long-knife back into its sheath and pushed the robot's body over with her pinkie.  It crashed to the floor; its neck sputtering with electrical sparks.  
    
     Sylver blew a long black strand of hair out of her face.  "Huh...I do feel better now.  Now, where is Akwa?  I need some sort of intelligent-based humanoid to speak with before I go insane.  And maybe a good excuse to make up before Hunter asks about the walking-talking freakshow on his mansion floor."  She turned to go back down to the basement, but stopped.  Her nose wrinkled and her pointed ears pricked up.  She could hear something....footsteps.  Her lip curled back revealing her fangs.  Footsteps outside!
     
     Sylver dropped to the floor in a low crouch.  Dangit! Why hadn't she heard them earlier?  She closed her eyes for a moment.  Leaves...crunching... They were...in the woods!  She crawled slowly over to the window and inched the curtain up.  Narrowing her vision, they came into focus.  Men.  On the right side of the forest, she could see Akwa and his men.  On the other side...was someone else.  She pressed her ear against the glass.  Someone was speaking to the man....calling him Darkchild.
     
     Under her breath, Sylver cursed in Elvish.  She knew nothing about him, other than the fact that he was a member of the Hidden Lotus.  And that was reason enough to kill him.  She took another glance out of the window.
    
     "Crap!" She seethed.  Akwa was approaching Darkchild; they were both nearing the wood's edge that lead into a wide, empty meadow just beyond the mansion.  There was no chance of hidding once they were in the open.  "And that is exactly why they put me here," Sylver groaned, "to take care of the big, tough men from hurting their sorry behinds."  
    
     Sylver jogged to the front door.  "Duende."  She pulled the Staff from inside of her and eyed each of the blood markings.  They glowed in responce.  Good, Sylver thought, at least they can't get in the mansion.
    
     *patta, patta, patta!*  A sputter of gunfire sent Sylver instantly teleporting out of the mansion and onto the field.  Just beyond the forest, Akwa and the soldier's were spraying this...Darkchild with their machine guns.  And failing.  He muttered something stupid about his coat and then lunged full-force into the group of guards.  They continued firing.
    
     "Goshdarnit, stop!"  Sylver yelled.  But they wouldn't.  And before she knew it, at least five were on the ground.  Dead.  Anger merged into her system, causing the Staff to glow a deep purple.  "Fine." She said in a low, yet frieghteningly unearthly voice, "Be that way."
    
     She took off of the ground, faster than she'd thoght possible, and rocketed towards Darkchild.  " *Foc al iad! * " She roared.  The Staff answered.  A ring of black fire encircled Darkchild, cutting him off from the rest of Akwa's men.  Sylver flew above it and twirled the Staff in her hands like a propeller.  Time seemed to freeze for that one moment: the moment before the kill, the moment before she released all her fury into that one blow, or several, that would steal the life from the one stupid enough to piss her off.  And that one, was staring at her from within the circle of hellfire, smirking as if he wasn't afaid.  
    
     Well, Sylver grinned, flashing her white fangs, he will be.  The moment ended, the blow was ready.  Time to play.  "AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!"  The Staff slammed into the ground; Sylver could feel the dark energy coursing through her, through the physical boundaries that she could pass as the earth shuttered from her blow.  " *Fulger* "  She whispered.  Instantly ,a lightning strike snaked through the ground and ripped through her opponent's body, burning the headphones around his neck, and tossing him to the ground.  
    
     Without hesitation, without even a second thought, Sylver sprung, like a cat, onto Darkchild.  Her grip fastened around his neck while her Staff remained pinned to his temple.  Her eyes glowed a fierce scarlet, flaming like the wall that surrounded them.
    
     "Well, jerk-off, what brings you to these parts, eh?" She said as she sqeezed his neck harder.  Sylver could feel the blood pulsing through his veins, and his spine starting to bend under her iron-grip.  "You couldn't possibly be looking for the Wolf Pack.  Because if you were, you're team forgot to mention something very important to you.  They have a vampire, one that doesn't like to leave anyone alive."  She sqeezed tighter, pulling his face up to hers.  "And guess what ,hon,"  Her eyes burned into his, "I am that one."
    
     Sylver felt one of the vertebrae in his neck crack.  Her smile widened, revealing more fangs.  "And ya know what else? After I suck you dry and go kill the rest of your team, and you go to that miserable pit of Hell, your friends will envy the fate I gave to you."  Her lips touched his neck.  "Bye bye, honey."  Sylver tore into his jugular. 

The B52 air craft was filled with chanting soldiers as they scud over the landscape like a flock of ducks.Jason was in his private jet looking at the refine view through his barely transparent filthy window"sh!t...what type of ..." he wiped his finger across the glass surface" come one.....disgusting ,when's the last time you guys washed these damn windows? it's f#cking disgusting ,give me a damn cloth!......wtf are you deaf up there, give me a F$cking cloth...christ!" a service woman came from behind the curtains of the pilot quarters with a disconsolate look on her face"what the hell is your problem?coming over here like your depressed or some sh!t get your self a ha[[y meal and put a smile on...i do...." the woman tossed the disgustingly gray cloth in jasons face with full force and walked away"

Jason removed the cloth off his face, with acrimony ready to slither itself from his lips, he rose from his chair , and paced quickly with rage trembling in his body and grabbed the woman's long blond ponytail" YOU B!TCH....how dare you disrespect me in my moment of prosperity!" Jason yanked her ponytail forcibly, she was helpless, she fell backwards to the floor on her shins" you see, i have the right to be pissed off lady, im given bad flight surfaces on they day when my name will reign upon this world" the woman gave out of few grunts, and spit onto Jason torso"thats it ...you son of a.."jason back smacked her across the face brutally, and dragged her down the long red suave carpet into the bath room.

He kicked upon the door , as her screams of dismay echoed hollowly in the confined space." You just lost your life b!tch, now im going to show you why the call me the Hollow Shadow" he lifted the woman by the ponytail up into his face, and head butt her so hard that she flew into the bathroom walls" Guagh...HELP ME PLEASE..S...!!!" she was silenced by a big boot to the face, as her cheek crashed into the cold metallic wall. He lifted her up by the back of her dress and shirt , and swung her into the sink, her temple hit off the edge of the metal enamel surface, and blood began to trickle down her face.

he pulled out his Lx17 and aimed the gun at the back of her head as she laid on he floor unconscious, and with no hesitation of remorse he fired the gun 7 times at her skull, leaving a bloody mess in the white surfaced bathroom." sorry, but those who oppose my order, dont live, woman, child,man, or animal.He wiped off his gun with brown hand paper , and made his way back to his seat, he picked up the cloth  and wiped the window in a circular motion, and continued glaring out the window enjoying his scenic view" oh snap, i forgot to whip the spit of my shirt......"

Her eyes were fixated on the ceiling. Its body conformed to her as she lay on the bed. The ceiling fan seemed to turn slowly each time it passed. The light peeked through the window and Lady Nightmare was just…Abam. Tired of the fan she turned her head to the side. Now a drawer stared back at her. She peered as her eyes traced the dust.”How long has it been since I’ve opened you?” she thought to herself. Her and rose and fell on to the knob and pried the mouth of the drawer opened. She lifted herself up and peeked inside only to find a small sliver bracelet. Her eyes widened at its significance. It was a replica of the one her mother had given her. The original had broken years ago. Abam had almost forgotten she had it made. The memories of her pass started to flash before her eyes.”I wonder how that place is doing. I should go... just for a day, just a day...” she thought.

Her mind began to picture that old place and with a thought she was there. As her head turned to take in the sight she whispered,” Nara may have you grown.” There stood before her an urbanized Nara. In fact she doubted its name was Nara anymore. Her feet began to tug her forward for exploration but just as she lifted her foot a small native girl ran into Abam.

Her eyes were stained with tears and fear covered her face.”Well hello there…” she said as she looked down at the frightened girl. The girl looked back as two men ran after her. She clenched onto Abam has they grew closer. Abam’s instincts began to tug her mind screaming something’s wrong over and over. Finally the men stood before Abam and the girl. “Sorry to disturb you miss but it seems my daughter have run away.” Abam smirked. This man was not this girl’s father. She did not even have to be a telepath to know that, but being that she was she took a look inside for real intentions.

Her body started to grow tense as the information flowed into her. This man was not a father but a hence men to a slave trafficker. The girl was in grave danger.  Looking into his eyes she asked “Are you sure this is your daughter?’ “she whispered to the girl “Get behind me “Just as there the word Yes left his mouth and the girl was secure her fist collided with his face and her foot meet the other man’s crotch. As the men fell to the ground, she tossed the girl on her back with her little feet around her waist and her hands around her neck.

Abam started to run before the men got to their feet.  Moving at a fast and steady pace she maneuvered easily through the city. A bright sign flashed Hotel as the sun began to set. Abam’s feet slowed down and proceeded toward the entrance. A room for two please she said to the front desk clerk. She paid the woman upfront and she handed her the keys.

“Where is your mother?’ Abam asked as she closed the door. “She was in the market place and then those guys came after me...” “Can you picture your home in your mind”?””Yes” Do it for me please”

As the image of the girl’s house popped into her head Abam entered her small head and touched the girl’s hand.”Say hi to your mom for me” With that she made the girl disappear to dust and to her home.  Suddenly, rage entered her eyes. Flash Forward

Her feet pushed against the tainted streets, pressing harder with each step. Lady Nightmare’s heart rate was surprisingly calm as she carried two swords on the opposite sides of her body. Right behind her raced one hundred masked ninjas. Apparently they preferred their master alive rather than beheaded, but such a person cannot be tolerated especially in her home town, Nara, Japan. Lady Nightmare pushed her feet up and backed flipped into the mob of ninjas. Her sword entered two infidels just has she landed. She raised her hands to the side as the mob realized her location. Gathering energy inside her palms she releases two psionic pulses. Knocking back several ninjas and killing the close ones.6…slash...9…slash…10…slash, slash...16….The numbers echoed in her mind as her hand crafted a massacre. Ring, Ring… Lady Nightmare grappled the phone telepathically and put it to her ear. Yeah, slash, mmhmm, teleport, slash…I’ll be there. Her hand swiped pass her face and blood splashed onto her as the ninja met the fate of his master.25…Her body was taken by black smoke and reappeared in the air. “I’d like to stay and play but duty calls” she yelled down. Lady Nightmare disappeared once more.

Lady Nightmare stood with her peers as the alpha wolf explained the situation and gave  the orders. Her eyes were glue on him as she noticed his condition. Though Hunter was a strong leader she and the others could tell this was hitting him hard. William was rugged, his face becoming coved with newly formed beard.  Talon was like his cub and like any old dad he would do anything to get her back.Suddenly, the disturbed leader looked at her. Her assignment was given.

The dust from her teleporting cleared as she appeared at the Japan HQ. She began to head toward the data base to gather information on where Talon was being held. Her hand pushed opened the door and she arrived at the seat in front of the computer. Suddenly she looked around the room, something was a foot. Lady Nightmare rose from her seat and unsheathed her swords. She proceeded to walk out of the room. As she made her way into the hallways she could hear rumbling. Lady Nightmare started to run toward he sounds.

Just as she arrived before her appear angered super solider done with whatever was trying to infiltrate the base. Abam looked at the ground at a dead sleeper.”There’s going be more to come” Lady started to climbs the walls using her telekinesis to keep her up. Whoever was coming was going to be surprised.

She soon noticed the dead body’s around her. Blood all over all dead. She knew who killed them though she could almost imagine his movement in her mind. He was a brilliant fighter. Deadly and not a good enemy and she was glad that she was not the enemy. Though at the moment she could not tell his motives not yet at least. The man then spoke to her with a strong French ascent that made her listen.  "Yeah chere, of course it tis. Now come on we don't have much time."

She eyed him a moment as if scanning for something though she did not know what. Wrapping his cloak tightly around her person she continued to shiver and did her best to remain still. Her black hair hung down the sides of her face. She honestly had no clue what was going on though she intended to find out what. There was an icy breeze that chilled her to the bone. Looking around in the middle of the wilderness she could detect three scents one was the man standing beside her the other was hers and the last was some one coming to her location. And he was coming fast. From the smell of him he was no human many odd features and definitely powered some way or another. Though his powers she could not figure out. He was dangerous she knew that she looked over to the man nervously though his demean did not alter in any way.

At that point she decided something. He had saved her life by helping her escape that man who had entrapped her here. Why he helped her she did not know. But he obviously knew her to have rescued her meaning he possibly could be Hunter though she was not the type to trust with out doubt. Weather or not he was Hunter  she owed him her life and her freedom. She was a girl with not much to hold onto but honor she cared about. And in these type of situations there was only one thing that was right and she would do it. She entrusted her life with him he saved her and she was in his debt she was in a way under his word and command. And because of this she would protect him to no end. Her life was in his hands and she would do every thing in her power to protect him even to the point of death. It might have seemed drastic but she did not care one bit. It was what she could do. While in that cell she had seen things about herself that she thought vicious but she was a dangerous person and could protect those she chose to.

Finally she recognized the scent and the name filled her with anger though she could not fully identify why? His name was Sparada though nothing more she could remember of him. There was anger great anger towards him. Hew as the one who imprisoned her she could tell her scent was all over him. Meaning that once before she had engaged in battle with this man. In obviously she had lost and he had won. That know to her she expected the same thing to occur he was a deadly opponent though from the look of things this was not her fight and she was to remain out of it. Though that was the last thing she wanted to do though any how she would comply. He then bellowed addressing the her rescuer and herself.

 "Hey, French fry! If I knew you were gona show up, I would've prepared a better welcome party for you. As it is, it's just me.....and you. Girl doesn't count for much, I don't think, unless she can dance." She could hear herself growling and did not care. She was going to rip his throat out then run her claws through his skull but making sure he’d surer. Then she’d bite his leg and bulge out his eyes but always making sure that he was not dead so he could endure the suffering. After his eyes she’d jab her claws into his mouth and slice his tongue off and then lips. The blood by this time she guessed would have been pouring out meaning an easy fill. And she could just almost imagine the screams and cries that he would have given out. Then she’d cut his legs and arms off and leave his dying corps here in the wilderness for it to be devoured by wild animals.

At this point Laura realized how messed up her mind was. She could visualize it all his death how she would commit it  how he’d fight back and how she’d counter act his attacks! This scared her the most what…..who was she. Looking at her hands she could see that they had lost color and blood continued to drip from them. Though looking at both Sparada and the man she noticed that neither of them appeared to be cold. This could have had many reasons but the one she came to was that something was wrong with her and she was not cold but hot. Burning up she had a fever that was why she had mild chills and heat ups. She was sick though pushing her needs aside she went back to the main issue. “Survival”. 

But just when she wanted to attack he placed his hand out toward her stopping her from progressing forward. She looked up at him though he did not bother to look back only whispered "Keep dem pretty little claws in, le petit."She hesitated but soon obeyed his instructions and calmed herself. Then her so called protector motioned his hand in attempt to neutralize Sparada. She wanted to jump in and commence in what actions she had planned out. But sadly it was not to be with a quickly posturing and movement they re-entered the cell. It was strange and she did not expect what would happen next. He seemed not the type to be defeated and not the type to run though she tired and tired she could not fully recall Hunter and there for had no way on telling weather what he was doing was in character or not.

Then reaching his hands to her neck her pulled up the hood that was attached to the cloak that he had given her. It felt nice and warm. She was no longer as cold as before and her new attire was very fitting or so she thought.  He then said "Cover up" the man then used his abilities which seemed so numerous and blew the back of the cell wall of. With a smirk  and subtle laugh he commented. “Bet he didn't see that coming eh chere?" she nodded her head in agreement to his words and soon followed him as they ran outward onto open and exposed ground. Dogging the coming fire Laura was not frightened. This all felt natural to her so she went with the flow. Even though when running through enemy turf with a guy wanting you dead and tons of people shooting at you was not suppose to be normal it was at least to her.

And with swift movements she leaped over the fence and followed  “Him” to where ever he was taking her. The weather conditions were harsh and cold though she was not the one suffering. Though her healing factor was still not at full capacity she still was able enough to make her way through the forest and it’s deadly surroundings. Though…Hunter on the other hand she could feel his body temperature dropping and quickly became on edge. Her only thought was him her needed were irrelevant and this situation to her did not matter. His safely she would ensure under any circumstances. As they continued he piled sticks and gave them to her obviously he knew where he was heading and was planning to make a fire. And soon enough a cave came into view and the two travelers sheltered themselves from the naked eye of the storm that was now blowing harsher every minuets.

Once the first was list she sat down and observed the fire. Her emerald eyes staring at it entranced as if waiting for something. Though all the time trying to gain any other memories that she could harness for herself to give her some information about herself and about this man “Hunter”. It was a strange thing when ever she thought of the man she felt combatable and safe even content. So the fact that this man before her could be Hunter was not as far fetched as she wanted it to be. As the first burnt brightly she looked to the mouth of the cave out o the strong snow storm that appeared to be blowing in on them leaving them stranded till the storm would die. The cave was damp and dark. Never the less the fire had dried their position making it cozy enough for either of them to wait it out. Food on the other had would be an issue given how long they’d be there and she took it upon herself to get some.

But before she was able to he then spoke asking her an odd question. "Have you ever thought about giving dis all up? Trying to be a normal girl? A normal person?" the question caught her aback as she stared at him a moment. Then let out a long sigh of pain and spoke “Truly I can not say, since the knowledge of myself and my excursions are limited I only have access to a few of my memories a bit of my past. And of what I have seen it  appears from both the memories and your words that I’m not obviously normal”. She then paused a moment and stared into the fire a moment then continued “But what I know I can say this much, Yes…I have wanted to be normal all my life I’ve always wanted it. Ever since I don’t know when. It had been my one soul goal in life. “

Running her hands through her black velvet locks she stopped and leaned back a moment. Trying to gather more information about herself. “But as all of them I failed, countless times. On the verge of humanity and as you call it being normal I would always fall. No matter what I do no matter where I go one thing always and will ultimately remain the same: They will come for me and take me back”.  “They” even though she did not know who she was referring to was know as HYDRA, SHEILD, The Government and from earth 259 the monsters that had created her The M.S.B.C.U, The Mutant and Superhuman Being Containment Unite. “See sir I am not human not even a girl yes I appear to be one yes I can be one but never actually be a girl. My name is X-23 genetic clone of….of Weapons X, Assassin and Mercenary agent of The Weapon X Facility, created for on purpose and one purpose only: To kill, and I have done that or at least I think I have……Uh!” she moaned in annoyance as the memories if what she had just said she began to loose like all the others.

Bering her face in her hands she draped her hair over her face as to hide the emotions on her face and the tears and were seeping from her eyes. But gathering her composure she suppressed them and spoke though you could have detected the rush of emotions running through her from the resonation that her voice gave off in the caves. “I can never be human! Humanity’s is above me I am a worthless pieces of nothing, you should have left me to die and die in peace with nothing than to take me out here and show me something. I am a monster a murderer a beast I am an Animal with not cage no…nothing holding it back I am a feral wild beast that can never be tamed never be what is wants it o be!!” By this time she was overflowing with pain and regret for things she could not remember doing though knowing she did.

Once again she calmed herself and brushed her hair away to reveal her jade eyes staring t “Hunter”. She took a few deep breaths and looked to see even though there was a fire burning her was still cold and needed covering. So slowly to show no hostility she removed the cloak from her back and walked around to him. The placing her hand son his shoulders she tied the cloak around him fastening it so that no air would enter and he would remain warm though out the night. “Do not mind I do not require any coverage or shelter from the cold”. With that she quickly returned to her seat and spoke “We will need nutrition…..to out live the storm with out it we are not to survive. I shall go out and find something with my feral ability I have a much better chance in finding any source of food for the both of us I just hope that you are not a vegetarian” she said with a slight smirk on her face.

But seeing the concern in his face she noted in and kneeled before him. Looking up into his deep eyes “I am bound to you by honor I have given you my life and I need to repay you. I am in your debt sir and always will you have granted me freedom and life. There for do not fear I shall not desert you.” Then unleashing her claws she wrapped her hand around the blade and slit her hand. Then letting the blood drip on to “Hunters” hand she wiped if off on his palm and looked back at him. “I shall remain true to my word and not betray you”. With that she stood up and walked toward the exit of the cave and peered back at him and smiled “I will return I promise to you”. It was cold and wet and Laura soon found her self fighting against nature. Since she was not healing at normal rate she was cold and could feel that she would not survive. Bt as her luck would have it she found a young stage not to old and not to young and slaughtered the cratered. Then slinging it over her shoulder returned to hr face.

\After a few minuets of dissecting it and cooking it she had prepared a man. Though it was not the best it was all she could cook up at the moment with what she had. But because of the harsh condition part of the deer was inedible and there was only enough for on portion. There for she gave it to him even though her health was not the best it was the least she could do for him. Handing the plate over to him she said “I apologize for the crudeness of this mean but it was the best I could do, though if you wish it I will go out and catch something else.” Looking away a moment she lowed the plate beside him and sighed. “But there is one last thing”. With that she embraced “Hunter” with a hug but it was swift and soon ended. Embarrassment was in her eyes and she was quick to apologize for her action and emotion shown toward him. “I beg you forgiveness sir I was…quick and did not think….but do not worry I shall not let it happen again.”

The flight had been turbulent. Most of it had been with Mark sitting, and when he wanted something, having to wait fifteen minutes for the Stewardess to actually appear. As if that wasn't annoying enough, the plane had to make several stops at various airports for refueling and maintenance checks, amounting in an hour and a half of meaningless frolicking while Mark still sat in the same first class style chair watching countless tar mattes in which he should of seen only once and that was at his destination. After that he had simply replaced his pilot, and had done his stewardess in the slightly larger than small bathroom before throwing her out too. She seemed to like men with money, and he was target number one on her scope. That didn't bother him though, and after finishing, she had been thrown out a minute after having herself dressed, and then the pilot three minutes later.

Within another two minutes of that, a new stewardess and pilot were on the plane, not knowing that they were flying a member of The Hidden Lotus in a THT jet which many people feared simply the name, let alone one of their operators with 'abilities' not very much appreciated by those who became the victimes. However, staying completely silent avoids confrontation about the matter, and with weapons out in plain sight, people don't bother to ask you any questions. Instead they sweat with anxiety knowing that they could be killed just for turning the wrong way at the right time.

After making that one stop in which Mark made the decision to dump the whore and the pilot, the plane had gone simply through. When he asked for something, or asked for the Stewardess at any time she came. No turbulence during the flight, and everything was going good as Mark's private jet entered Germany's airspace. The pilot was playing it cool, specifying that they were dropping off a well-known buisness man for a meeting in Wiesbaden with German and French associates. Upon that small transmition, easy and self-explanatory Mark was allowed within the country.

When the jet was approaching the landing point of where Bullet Ride would be, Mark peered out his window. Still high, he could see two squares, black colored, and around ten dots near eachother. At the height he was in, he couldn't say exactly, but those people, ants from the sky, were waiting for something. Not for his flight, but for something coming soon thereafter. Immediatly Mark jolted to the Pilot's cabin. He told him to wait and circle around the perimeter for awhile. As the man did that, Mark grabbed his swords, strapped them to his back, and then waited near the air-locked door, all the while watching outside to see if any other planes were coming.

Sure enough, a large plane came. Quickly, people were jumping from it, bullets were flaring. It was chaos. Now, Mark knew who it was. It was the Heaven Clan, and to be exact it seeemed they were attacking the squad placed on the ground, presumably waiting for them. "Tick...Tock."  Mark began the noise with his tongue as he whisked open the door. Immediatly rushing air filled the plane, and he couldn't hear anything. it was serenade for someone who would jump out and here screams and bullets a few seconds later. Fear would pit anyone from jumping without a parachute, and even then there could be malfunctions in the parachute which also continued the hype.

Being a professional though, Mark knew what to do without his parachute, and now only five feet in the air, he knew exactly how to stop himself from breaking a arm or leg of skin that he had recently recieved from the wish giver supreme Gloom. As he jumped out, Mark remembered entering the shop, and how he still thought himself Duvan when he naiivishly began the change back into the best mercenary known to man, despite his disappearance, anyone claiming that would need some beef to back it up. Meaning, they'd have to do him in. Mark smiled though, he knew that the malevolant, ominous G'bandit that he worked along side would fight for the title he had grown with using for so long. However, his thoughts still gleamed upon Gloom's shop as he jumped.

Flashback-
 From his innermind, Duvan peered up to see a building. It was floating in midair across the street in front of him, and had the warm, glazing door that wanted you to come in. It looked as if it was placed in the air, but truthfully, it was just suspended there, using fake balance beams to 'make the illusion' that it was actually a normal building. However, Duvan knew from his memory, or the memory he thought he could trust that that had never been there before. Standing, he glanced around. It was emptier than before, as if all the light and sunshine had dipped upon the building. Including that, no people at all, no cars to make a rumbling sound. Just simple silence. It was excellence, just how Quality performed on a mission. In excess silence, performing with pure excellence.

Excellence on the building felt different. As if it was it's own thing, it's very own creation that couldn't be matched. Looking both ways of the road, Duvan slowly stepped across it. As he did, he remained slow to see if a car would come and to see if this was just his imagination. As he neared the other side of the road, where the building was located, Duvan knew this was real. This floating building, as if timeless, was a true moving being of it's own. The door itself was carved of mohogony wood, and the building looked as if made of wood and cement, yet gave it's own forebading glow as if it had been made of some non-earthly methods.

Walking towards the door, now feeling like it was calling to him. Duvan began to wonder about it. Why is this here? Of all places. The purpose? Does it remain here to help those who are lost like me? Or not? Did I draw this from my own, vivid imagination in a mind that I cannot trust? I am dreaming. That's the only possible solution. I'll fall off this cliff, end up thrity nine feet to the ground and will feel like an idiot. Then as cars pass, they'll ignore me before someone notices me and frantically calls nine one one one thinking I'm dead. I know this will happen... or am I' just imagining this now?

He couldn't hold back. As he reached for the mohogony door, he touched the handle. A pulsating jolt reached at him, grabbing his body from another realm, or the one that he was in. Holding his hand for a moment, Duvan closed his eyes. The blue lights flashed in his head, like in his dreams. Turning the knob, Duvan pushed the door open. Seeing into the room, he walked in. Walking a few steps forwards, the door slammed shut behind him. He felt as if he was in a world he knew nothing of. Despite that he managed to glance around the room. It was warm and glossy, giving the essense of a home. A home to help those in need at first.

But as a person looked around, they instinctivly thought that it was a place to wish. A wishing well of wishes to be exact. As Duvan turned his head around the room, his head aligned with his right shoulder as he saw her. She was pretty, almost beautiful, yet ominious which took you slightly back. She had a smile on her face, and near her seemed to be some sort of dog, but it didn't seem to be there. Duvan thought it was a ghost. But, with more notice, it looked like a being of the wind. Free and pride, the dog reminded him of something in his past, but his mind was locked from it.

Astonishment settled. Duvan began to regain his composure, and after closing his open mouth, he clenched it. Standing up straight, he walked faintly over to the woman, who seemed young, but not as young as him. As he stood before her, and she before him, her just being behind a desk that resembled a table, he couldn't muster the words. Yet, she nodded towards him, encouraging him to speak. For some reason, she seemed like a lost long parent, who knew from the looks that you were confused but used their instincts to comfort you in your dearest needs. The spirit, now resembling a fox from up close, wasn't as nice though. It growled, but upon sniffing him, backed away allowing the woman to get ahold of Duvan's attention.

"I'm Duvan."

He didn't know what to say after that, though he continued.

" Who are you?... What is this place?"

That was the basic analysis of course. Now, he still continued to muster some words.

" The house... It's warm and appreciative... I don't understand.. What am I doing here?"

He was embarressed for letting that last part slip out. If she knew why he was here, than he obviously knew why he was here too. However, just the sheer magnificance of the air was confusing him, and astonishment was returning as he peered again at the supernatural apparition of the fox. After a few moments he returned his gaze to the woman, trying to comprehend the meaning of the shop, which seemed out of worldly but still a human creation.
End Flashback-

As that moment in time flashed before his eyes, Mark began his ascent towards the ground before him. Sommersaulting was the easiest part of it all, the roll once you hit the ground could be the depending factor if you broke a bone or if you landed magnificently. In this case, Mark being trained well, he rolled three feet before impact. He hit the ground with his back at first, causing dust to pile before actually dispersing as he rolled a few feet. Standing, he smiled. The whole group had been obliterated, and Mark was now standing in a desolate place, a lone soldier running for his life as Bullet Ride let him seemingly go.

" I'm here Bullet. Quality reporting for duty. Killed one."

Within mere seconds, Mark doned one of his two pistols. Aiming it lightly, he shot. The bullet spiraled through the air, and then the soldier running was dead. Falling face forward into the ground, the man had barely a moment to think after the bullet came. Now dead, the body wasn't going to move ever again. Only the blood pouring from it would actually move, but that was it for the still, non-animated body with no leading essense. Finally though, Mark was reunited with his Clan, who although didn't admit it, needed a Lethal Weapon as they needed a strong, bright leader.

Somewhere in Asia

The Lycan King had united such clans as the Navajo Skin Walkers, the Corvinus Lycans, and much more.  He had not known how many of his own kind still remained in the world, and it was somewhat disturbing when he found out how many of his kind were still in existence.  Whether they were being hunted down or simply dying in battle, the lycan race had less than two thousand scattered across the globe.  When William Greystoke assumed the kingship, he changed.  His abilities were somewhat heightened and he was suddenly able to telepathically locate lycans all over the world.  By unifying the groups under one leader, he had perhaps saved the race from extinction....

Canadian Rockies - 2 Days After the Ascension

The tricky Gambler had used his telekinesis and flung Sparda backwards, down the hallway. The demon-hunter was thrown off his feet, but he reacted fast enough and flipped backwards to land right side up. He slid a few extra feet before coming to a stop. During this, the Cajun had locked himself in the secure room, along with Talon. Moments later, an explosion rung out. Sparda had caught on to what was happening and he knew it was too late.

"A french man running from a fight? Glad to see nothing's new.....", he chuckled at his own offensive joke.

Suddenly, gunfire broke out, ringing in the night. He walked back to the main entrance and looked out the window's. His men, outnumbered, were being rushed by an army of werewolves. Both sides were losing numbers, but for now the battle had only just begun.

"This is more like it!", he grinned. A small group had broken through his lines and rushed to the main doors. "That's right.....come to papa...."

The outer walls collapsed, half a dozen beasts rampaging through them. The dozen or so men in the main corridor fired, doing their best to defend themselves. One of them was instantly pounced upon, and another was backhanded so hard into a wall that he was out instantly. Yet, they were not hopelessly outmatched. One of the wolves was ganged by three men and gunned down, writhing on the floor. Another was fended off.

Sparda calmly walked into the main corridor, drawing one of his pistols. He fired rapidly, still moving forward. Four bullets entered one Lycan soldier's head, spraying brains against the white floor. He turned and put another two into's one's chest before he was suddenly knocked to the floor. His pistol slid from his hand. The figure lifted him off of his feet and slammed him so hard against the wall that cracks tore into it. Hunter.

"You traitorous DOG!", he screamed. "Where is she?!"

Slowly, Sparda reached behind his back to his other pistol. "Down, boy....."

Then, for no apparent reason at all, Hunter released him. Sparda dropped to the floor, and the werewolf broke off in a run. Some of his men took off after him-four stayed around the demon with weapons levelled. One yelled at him.

"Drop your weapon!"

He was all to happy to comply. As he lowered his weapon to the floor, he fired off a pulse of dark energy. It surged over the ground radially, and threw the four soldier's off their feet. Before they could land, Sparda made his move. He dashed forward, drawing his sword. As he blew past all four soldiers, he slashed, cutting them to pieces. Stopping just past them, it was like time had stopped momentarily and then had kicked back in. All four men split apart in mid-air simultaneously and blood exploded into the air and onto the walls and floors.

He picked up both pistols and holstered them, stepping over the remains of his men and the Lycans in the room. One of them was recovering from his wounds. Sparda drew and shot him in the head without stopping, and then holstered his weapon again. He pushed out the doors and looked outside. It was chaos.

About two-hundred men did battle with many more werewolves, both transformed and not. He looked around, and sighed. He didn't have the time to take care of all of them, not with Talon loose. And since most of them were Hunter's men, and Gambler had defected, he felt that if there was ever a appropriate to use it, it'd be now.

"Eh, what the hell. Devil Trigger!"

Two rings of white light appeared around his arms, and worked their way down up the limbs. Everything they passed turned to light as well, and once they reached his torso they merged, and expanded vertically, both up and down. Blinding light erupted out of where Sparda had stood just moments before, and then, an explosion occured. Smoke and dust covered the battlefield. For just a few moments, some of the combatants stopped fighting, confused as to the origins of the explosion.

The cloud was dense, and slow to fall. With the sound of a sword being drawn from it's sheathe, a blue visor's light appeared. The smoke cleared. Eleven feet tall, Sparda stood, converted fully into his true demon form. A giant, armored from head to toe in a black and gray metal. He carried a massive, transformed version of his own sword, proportionally correct to his own increased size. His hands could hold a fully grown man in them. Something that sounded vaguely like a roar erupted from the helmet. Hell had just been raised.

Swinging his blade, he caught ten soldiers, just as many his own as there were Lycans, and sent them hurtling into the air. He began his assault on the battlefield, firing off beams of energy and attacked everything in sight. Despite his decreased intelligence and increased beastiality due to his transformation, he remembered Hunter, and Gambler, and Talon-and would do all in his power to crush them. The battle had just begun.

--Flashback--

     "You will most likely, if not definatly, die within the next half hour or less.  It will tear you apart, not with its teeth, since it has none, but with its needle-thread like barbs that line the mouth.  They will enter your skin, burrow into your bones and lace with the marrow.  Tiny, living creatures of demonic poison will then spread through your being, eating you alive--tearing apart every blood vessel and vein as they go.  Eventually, you will, if you're like every one else, tear out your eyes with your fingernails until your heart gives out from the pain and spasms that your mind cannot understand.  So, in general, all your hard-earned training of the past ten years will come to an end here, at a very poinless, painful, excrusiating death in the hands of madness itself.  Ooookay.....any questions?"
    
     The captain who'd just spoken at a mile-a-minute stared into the eyes of the group he'd been left in charge with, burning into their retinas as if the small, packed sweat house wasn't hot enough.  He was a huge man, muscle bound with short cut black hair, a near opposite of most Elvin courterparts.  Expecially his attitude: far too relaxed and non-caring.  As long as he was paid, and entertained by their impending doom, it probably didn't matter if they went out screaming. It was just protocall to let them know that there was no turning back.  Stupid...really, really stupid.
    
     At least, that's what Sylver thought.  She sat cross-legged on the floor and leaned against the earth-wall.  They were literally in a prison of sorts, barred in until they got out alive.  The "informing" room was only large enough for about twenty people; there were fifty soldiers all together, and they'd been in there for two hours awaiting the general that would let them in to see the demon after it was summoned.  
    
     Sylver glanced to her right.  A few men were biting their lips, nervous...perhaps terrified.  They aught to be, Sylver thought while rolling her eyes, we're only going against a demon to get our jobs at the Capital.  No biggy...maybe they'll have a survivor this year...since the last ten haven't been so lucky.  Maybe Captain Hook'll even have dinner while watching us be eaten from the inside-out.  Gee, I've always wanted to be remembered somehow, but this is just soooo flattering.  Maybe--
    
     "Agent Zerre, are you intelligent enough to answer my question or has the fear already erroded your mind?" 
     Sylver looked up, slowly, green eyes impatient and sarcastic.  If the Captain had actually been serious, she might've addressed him properly, but his querky grin and beady black eyes shut her respect off faster than he could talk.  
    
     "Yes, Sir.  I'm completely petrified...not a bone in my body that isn't scared silly about being turned into Saturday's midday meal.  Perhaps you could rivit my troop once more on how it is that we kill this demon.  Oh wait...crazy me, you didn't tell us, did you?  We just the funny slaughter house of uniformed, trained soldiers."  Her mouth rambled off without a second thought.  Something was wrong with this test...her entire being told her to run now, something was wrong with this guy.  But why? It was just a test....right?   Just an application to the job... 
    
     The Captain almost answered, but was interrupted by a booming, roar.  "Soldier! Stand to attention!" 
     Awwww....dang.  Sylver was on her feet, saluting the now-arriving general.  His long, silver hair was pulled into a tight braid, showing off that his one ear was missing.  His thin, black armor showed that he was from the Capital.  He walked up to Sylver, nose to nose, and narrowed his eyes.  
    
     "Tell me, soldier, why it is that you can't keep your big mouth shut in front of a commanding officer?" 
     Sylver inched her face back slightly...what was that smell? Ashes...no, rotten eggs?  Aw, Crap.  Sylver's eyes nearly glazed over.  How had she been so stupid.  "Well, you see, Sir, if he wasn't a spawn of Hell itself, I might consider doing just that."
    
     The General and the Captain both began chuckling.  "I'm sure that his lectures haven't exactly thrilled you, Soldier, but there's no need to be disrespectful to that extent.  Now, hold yourself together, you'll get to meet that demon in a minute."  
    
     Sylver's thin lips formed a smirk; no wonder they'd left them in this room so long, to lose focus and become dull.  She glanced to the men around her.  In about twenty seconds flat, they'd all be dead.  Boy...good thing I don't know any of 'em. Sylver remarked miserably.  She looked back to the General.
    
     "Too late, Sir. I've already met two."  She said, flatly.  Her hand that wasn't saluting was slowly reaching for her knife.
     With a sideways crack of his neck, the General's eyes turned parchment yellow; black stringy needles began growing out of his lips.
    
     "Well then, I hope you're ready." His voice became high-pitched and vibrating.  Sylver kept her eyes on him, but noted her surroundings.  No windows, not any room to run, one door; an Elvin soldier shut the door....ok, no door.  Awwww...heck...I hate test days.
    
     The General-demon hissed through the pin-like teeth.  "You should've trusted your instincts deary...now we will drag you to Hell with usssss."  A tail emerged from with in the armor, that now plastered to his body as greasy scales.  "Can you face the unstopable Elf?  Can you defy the impossible?  When you're cornered and there's no solution before you, what do you do?"  
    
     Sylver gripped her knife.  She could feel her heart pounding, adrenaline rushed through her.  The demons crouched, ready to feast. The other soldiers were huddling in terror. She smirked.  "Get creative." 
     The demon lunged.

--Wolf Pack Scotland Base--

     Awww...dang!  The explosion of light sent Sylver flying to the other end of the circle...again.  The Death Adders zoomed towards her like a cloud of hungry locusts as the earth shuttered and cracked.  Sylver crouched, her fangs barred.  She hated men that couldn't keep their dirty mouths to themselves, the ones that thought they were above everything.  Her Staff glowed in her hand.  Everything but death.
    
     So he was a magician of sorts...the Dark Art sorts.  Sylver held her Staff in front of her as a sheild as the ground in front of her shot up like daggers.  Red light burst from the cracks, frying a few of the Death Adders in the process.  She hated Dark Arts magicians....demons got their power from the same sorce.  The Staff became engulfed in a white light as she began chanting in Elvish, talking small steps backwards.
    
     But she'd killed demons before, heck, it was her life.  This--man, would be no different.  He would not reach the mansion, and she WOULD tear out his heart.  Darkchild's earthquake shattered the ground below her; she levitated higher.  Looking down, still chanting, Sylver could see nothing but the red light, formed in mist and lava, with burning, boiling hands grasping out from within it.  Screams of agony and pain tore through the air, causing Sylver-- dead, unmoveable Sylver, to shutter.  
    
     A portal to Hell...how fitting, saves me the trouble of opening one myself, She mused.  As the spell neared completion, she placed the Staff's end on her chest, and turned it like one turns a key in a lock.  Her eyes glowed white.  
    
     "So, you think I know nothing of magics?"  The Death Adders swarmed around her, and some began biting at her leg.  She ignored the pain.  Pain was nothing; pain could be shut off.  It was a simple fear, and all fear could be overcomed.  That was the point of the demon test; to overcome fear in the face of near-impossible death.  Sylver finished the incantation.  How she had killed the demons?....she'd ripped their "teeth" out and poisoned each of them.  Get creative....
    
     Sylver could feel the Staff's power pulsing in her hand like a living organism, ready to fight.  Her teeth shone in the brilliant white light bursting from the Staff's crystal.  "Well, let's re-educate you.  Never test an Elf on her knowledge of magics...fool, I was there when some of it was created!!!"
    
     " *inger lumia* "  It was barely above a whisper, yet it breached the boundaries of the supernatural realm.  There was a demonic presence near her...making her Staff the perfect receiver of some angelic assistance.  Like a lightning rod in a lake, if you stick it in the air, lightning will come, and destroy any fish in the lake.  Sylver felt the energy sapping from her spirit; she ground her teeth, but would not give in.  This had to be done.  The Angel Fire would release--
    
     An unearthly shimmer burst from the Staff's crystal, burning the ground within the fire circle, cealing the crevices and searing the Death Adders.  Then if disappeared, the world as dark as it was before.  Sylver pointed her Staff towards Darkchild.  "Here, fishy, fishy , fishy..." She hissed in a creepy fashion that echoed in the stillness.  A bolt of fire streaked through the air aimed at Darkchild's heart.  
    

Akwa watched the battle with interest. The group of soldiers he had been leading had disappeared off somewhere, maybe to fight someone else. He didn't know and he didn't particulary care. So he was leaning by one of the walls of the Scotland Fort watching his teammate Sylver and Darkchild fight it out. Darkchild...

He had not seen Darkchild for some time. He wondered how the old perv was doing. Pretty well for himself actually. He seemed to be holding his own against Sylver, their opposing magics clashing in a general orgy of destruction. He knew for a fact that Darkchild was a fairly skilled practictioner of the Dark Arts and Sylver seemed pretty good at whatever the hell she called her magic.

Akwa didn't particulary like magic. No real reason, he just didn't. It wasn't because he didn't understand it. The very concept of magic just seemed...wrong. He had seen wizards manipulate water with sorcery before. That had seemed almost blasphemous to him. When had magic done anything for him? The last time he was involved in some, he had ended up with a bunch of ghosts following him around.

And that's why he hadn't jumped in immediately to help Sylver. That wasn't the only reason though. Akwa's team spirit had always been somewhat lagging behind everyone elses. Oh, he would help her, sure. But she looked like she was doing fine without assistance. Besides, he liked Darkchild more than he liked Sylver, who he had never really talked to. Darkchild had always seemed like a nice enough chap, in his own roundabout way. Too bad that they were on opposing teams.

He watched with interest as the Star Child- I mean Darkchild used his powers to open a portal. A rush of tiny little things poured out, wriggling along on the ground. Most of them headed for Sylver but a one of them, sensing him, moved toward him.

With a complete disregard of personal safety, he picked one of them up.

"A Demon Snake!, " he cried out. "You would make such a good pet. You're a good buy aren't you, yes you are, yes you are."

He was lapsing into the baby talk that people often use to talk to pets when the Death Adder hissed and buried it's fangs into his arm. With a yelp, he dropped the demon snake on the ground. An odd tingling feeling started to go up his arm.

"Bad Demon Snake! Very bad! You're not man's best friend at all are you?"

He ignored the weird feeling in his arm and picked  the Death Adder up by it's tail.

"I can't stay mad at you! You're so cute, with your evil fangs and you're glowing red eyes. I should keep you."

With those words he managed to stuff the minor demon-thing into one of the many pockets that were cunningly hidden in his costume. He looked back over at the fight. Sylver had some funky glowing staff thing and was burning the rest of the Death Adders. He began to run towards the fight.

"No! No! Don't kill the snakes, they're so-" His words were cut off as the Death Adder in his pocket stuck out its head and tried to bite him again. By the time he had crammed it back in, it was too late. All of the Death Adders he could see had been destroyed. His heart sank. "Oh."

Standing very close to the fight he watched as Sylver directed a blast of flame at her foe.

I should probably be more helpful.

With that thought in mind, he decided he should probably pitch in, make some sort of contribution. But he felt lazy and he really wasn't sure if he should go to the effort of actually going into the battle. Wait...he had other people to fight for him! A whole bunch of them!
 But he had lost his super-soldiers.

Why not make your own?

With a wave of his hands, Akwa summoned several large balls of water hovering in mid-air. They quickly shaped themselves into roughly humanoid shapes. Long, sharp claws of ice speared out from their arms and with a click of his fingers, they were covered in icy armour as well.

"Go!" he commanded him. "Go and kill that fellow over there. Not that one, the one fighting the chick."

With those words, his elementals closed in on Darkchild, firing water blasts and slashing with their claws.

He telepathically sent a message to Sylver.

"Sylver! Need any assistance?"

Creating minions to do his bidding. He should've thought of this a long time ago.

Los Angeles - 2 days ago

Unknown Location - 1 day ago

Over Canadian Rockies- earlier today

Her words reached nothing as Darkchilds mind was set on one thing, an one thing only tearing her apart but not before using her as his own personal play thing. The world went dark for a moment as the sky lite up like the fourth of july. A fire surged down onto the ground an bouncing up spreading all along the floor ceiling his attacks and seizing them immediatly, then a second bolt slammed into the ground and bounced off soaring towards Darkchild "Oh sh!t GUH" the bolt slams into Darkchilds chest sending him flying as it still pushes against his chest. Trying to prevent it from bursting through his skin he flexes his chest in hopes to stave it off, only for it the break the skin and splash out the other side of his body. His body flails in the air an slams hard into the wall. His body goes limp as it slides to the ground, for a moment he appears to be dead motionless and no signs of life. Then suddenly he lets out a loud roar as he screams "I really f@#king hate Angels!!!!!!!!" His body erupts in a spray of blood it splatters the walls and even Sylver drenching her cloths and face with his crimson blood.

Bringing his arms to the ground he pushes up with mighty thrust righting himself as if rising from the grave. "You know what I really do HATE those kinds of attacks, if your lucky and it misses the intended area it just scatters within your body before blasting out the other end. Nice touch the littlest vampire." His body is covered in tiny and large holes as the energy escaped all around his body. He looks around the entire room as its drenched in blood "Hmmm normal people that would have killed them huh? Hell normal demons." brushing himself off "But little one I am far FAR from normal." Leaping forward he grasped his axe and thrusts his arm forward launching the axe forward, it hurtles towards her aiming for her chest. Using the weapon as a decoy he lands on the ground slapping hard a puddle of his own blood and brushes a symbol on the ground "SCATTER!!" and as he screams and every drop of his blood forms into long spikes all around him. The puddles erupt in a explosion of spikes an splinters, soon they envelope the entire room screaming around him and around her. He stands his hands still drenched in blood and he smiles "Tsk tsk, should have wiped the stuff off." FLicking his fingers he points to the blood all over her cloths an face "I do hate having to do this. FOLLOW!!" He flicks his hand adding to the blood and the spikes all around the room follow his blood namely the amount Sylver is drenched in.

"GAH!!" a water element slams its fist into Darkchilds back. He turns looking to Akwa, then grabbing the shotgun from his back he blasts the elementals "GET LOST!!" his demonic self showing for a moment as he roars at Akwa.

Place: Wolf Pack Scotland Base
Time: Ah, heck...who cares anymore?!

     Hearing someone curse for no reason is annoying.  But if they're cursing while their flesh is being burnt off thier bodies by a heavenly fire, it's pretty dang hilarious!!!  At least, those were Sylver's personal thoughts on the matter.  After releasing the overpowering energy that had been received into her Staff, Sylver dropped to the ground, her strength sapped by the attack's magnitude and her magic wards around the house.
    
     Sylver rested on her hands and knees, trying to re-allign her focus.  She looked up; Darkchild's motionless body lay in the garden shed after smashing through the wall.  Behind her was a small garage, now missing a wall and a half due to her and Darkchild's ongoing battle.  And just behind it, by a few yards, was the mansion. Dangit, Sylver chided mentally, I've got to get him away from the house...we're getting too clo--
     Something in the garden shed moved.  Sylver's pointed ears purked up; her pale blue eyes widened.  Darkchild's body sat up straight, unnaturally, like a puppet on strings.  
    
     "I really f------ hate Angels!!!!!"  He screamed, somewhat of an insult, but mostly from the pain.  Seeing what was coming, Sylver threw her hands up but was still drenched in a bucket-load of blood that erupted from his body.  She jumped to her feet, backing up onto a pile of debris.  The deep red liquid covered her pale skin and soaked her black leather outfit.  Sylver locked her eyes onto him with the kind of stare that defined the phrase "if looks could kill".  She certainly hoped it would.
    
     "Little boy, I am going to tear you about five new holes to equal the size of your fat mouth.  Then I'll burn out each of 'em.  Nobody, ever, drenches this leather with body fluids."  Sylver growled, as serious as ever.  Darkchild pushed himself out of the pile of bricks, still smiling that cocky grin that made Sylver wonder if his five new holes would do the same.  One was aggrivating enough.
 
     "You know what I really do HATE those kinds of attacks, " He began.  Sylver rolled her eyes. No, and I don't care...but you wanna know what I hate? There's no popcorn for these kind of speeches when you need it.  "if you're lucky and it misses the intended area, it just scatters within your body before blasting out the other end. Nice touch, the littlest vampire."  
     
     Noticing the large, burning wounds covering his body ,Sylver bowed theatrically.  "Why thank you.  I do enjoy my handiwork."  As usual, he ignored her.  Sylver smirked; but it would get to him...mentally.
    
     "Hmmm...normal people, that probalby would have killed them, huh?"  Sylver crouched a little lower, like a cat, as Darkchild began to walk towards her.  Her Staff pulsed in her hand. Yeah, most likely dumby.  "Hell, normal demons,"  Yup...done them too. 
     "But little one, I am FAR from normal."  What is it with the "little" thing?  I am not--
    
     Darkchild, in the blink of an eye, grabbed his axe and hurled it towards Sylver.  It struck the Staff with a force Sylver hadn't expected, catching her off guard and throwing her through the garage behind her.  Its momentum didn't stop there.  The experience almost remind Sylver of flying...only backwards and with an axe half her size pushing her through the air.  Yeah, nevermind, it wasn't like flying.
    
     Suddenly, the axe seemed to hit an invisible wall.  It was yanked out of Sylver's Staff, then imploded in bright blue flames.    Had Sylver not been still soaring backwards, she would've sighed.  Oh...the wards...thank heav--
     
     *Chreeeech---thud*  Bright, multicolored glass rained all around Sylver and the now-splintered floorboards. Her Staff was sent flying across the room. Thrusting herself off of her back and onto her feet, Sylver cracked her neck and stepped  into the gaping hole of the mansion's wall and window.  She paused, trying not to gasp.  Spikes, of blood, closed off the exit and surrounded her, forming a prison sphere.  Sylver looked around for an opening.  She frowned.  Well, this is new.
    
     "Tsk, tsk, tsk, should have wiped that stuff off."  Sylver spun around.  Darkchild was gesturing his finger back and forth, like you would to a disobedient child.  Sylver growled, deep and beast-like.  
    
     "Go ahead," She hissed under her breath, trying to catch a glimpse of her Staff, "you son of the Devil, do it."  He seemed to hear her, as he points his finger at the spikes. 
    
     "I do hate having to do this--"
    
     "DO IT!!!!!" Sylver roared.  She had no time for these games. People were dying, people were going to die because of him.  A feral rage built up inside of her; it would help surpress the pain.  Sylver braced herself.  Screw him...screw his whole darn team!!!
    
     "FOLLOW!"     
    
     The spikes barreled forward.  Sylver closed her eyes.  Impact.
    
     What would've been silence was filled with a sound-breaking scream, tearing through night, invoking pandamonium into anyone who heard it.  Every window, every glass cup, every mirror, every lightbulb, and every porcelin object exploded.  The lights sizzled and ruptured, leaving the house pitch black.
     
     The screaming stopped.     
     
     A red, sleek figure stepped out of the dark void.  Blood soaked the body and deep gashes split the smooth skin.  Sylver moved into the moonlight, her fangs luminous against her scarlet mantle.  
    
     "Tsk, tsk, tsk," She pointed a finger at Darkchild, "should have wiped that stuff off."  The wounds began to close as the blood was absorbed into them.  The gashes healed, leaving only small smudges of red on Sylver's clothing and hair.  With an aura that shook of the feeling of death and rage, Sylver ,slowly, walked towards Darkchild, Staff in hand.
    
     She glanced at Akwa, not too far away, and winked.  She'd received his telepathic message earlier, while being impailed.  Thus, preventing a responce.
    
     Half-way to Darkchild, Sylver unexpectedly catapulted off of the ground, flew forward, and slammed herself, Staff-first, into his body.  Staff pressing into his chest, glowing like a green-lantern, Sylver's face was a frieghtening, jade mask of calmness and pure instinct of a killer.  "Well, doesn't this look familiar, dog?"  Without warning, her fist cracked into his skull.  It wasn't meant to kill him...right away.  "Don't worry, I've had enough of your blood for awhile; I won't be biting you again tonight."  She stood; this time, it was her Staff that bashed his head.  She snickered as the blood began to pour out.  
    
     Faster and with more strength than anything human, Sylver flipped Darkchild's body over, pushing his face into the dirt.  The Staff burned onto the back of his neck, sputters of green flame jetting out.  She leaned next to his ear, forcing his body down with unrelenting strength.  "Let's try this one more time.  And don't worry darling, I'll scream right along with you if it makes you feel better."
    
     Her hand broke through his back, through skin and muscle, and fastened around his beating heart.  And Sylver did scream. Sonic.  As loud as she possibly could into his ear.  Her eyes were coal black and pupilless.  
    
     If his heart didn't burst, his skull and brain would.

Gambler's body shivered uncontrollably in the steadily declining climate deep within the sanctuary of the cave. While outside the storm violently unleashed its furry with a mixture of wind and snow making visibility all but impossible. Try as he might the Cajun was unable to mask his discomfort prompting the young Wolf Pack member to remove the very cloak Gambler had given to her earlier. "Do not mind I do not require any coverage or shelter from the cold”. she said. Standing behind the Living Legend as she draped it over his shoulders, the heat instantly offering a reprieve from the cold. Talon then made her way around to the other side of the fire taking up a crouched position before saying, “We will need nutrition…..to out live the storm with out it we are not to survive. I shall go out and find something with my feral ability I have a much better chance in finding any source of food for the both of us I just hope that you are not a vegetarian” A slight smirk raced across her face as she allowed herself to feel a brief moment of happiness.

However Gambler immediately started to stand. Worried that if he were to let Talon wounder off on her own she would not return. Perhaps she had realized that he wasn't the man she thought he was, and was now formulating a plan of escape. But suddenly Gambler's fears were laid to rest with a simple yet very symbolic act of loyalty. With one quick motion X-23 popped a single claw before running it across her hand allowing her blood to flow freely. Wiping it along his palm. “I shall remain true to my word and not betray you. I will return I promise to you." she said before exiting the cave. Before long the lone huntress returned with her fresh kill eager to share her spoils with the man she viewed as a father, or so she thought. The meal was a far cry from the extravagant lifestyle Gambler had enjoyed as the Prime Minister of France. Yet his years of training under thee illustrious Assassins Guild deep in the swamps of New Orleans had prepared him for such hardships.

He slowly wiped the top of his hand across his lips removing any remnants of the meal. Before nodding to Talon in approval. "Thank you chere. Dat was a meal fit for a King" he said with his trademark Cheshire Cat grin. "I apologize for the crudeness of this mean but it was the best I could do, though if you wish it I will go out and catch something else.” she replied. "Nonsense le petite." chuckled the Cajun. What happened next caught the King of Kings completely by surprise as Talon stood up and walked over to him. "But there is one last thing." she whispered as she wrapped her arms around Gambler embracing him in a hug. The move had caused the deciptive assassin to pause before returning the affection. Talon quickly withdrew back to the otherside of the cave as if she had crossed a forbidden line and was now ashamed of herself. "I beg you forgiveness sir I was…quick and did not think….but do not worry I shall not let it happen again.”

Just as the Living Legend prepaired his reponse a wild howl resonated up the mountain echoing throughout the cave. Causing the red tint in the Cajun's eyes to illuminate. "Hunter" he said softly under his breath. His prey had finally arrived. No doubt waging war on Sparda's compound at the base of the mountain. Gambler made his way towards the entrance of the cave looking out into the white blizzard. Then suddenly he turned slightly to address Talon. "Go. Get out of here. Follow the same route down the mountain and return to the base. There you'll find youre precious Hunter, you're true family. I release you from your blood pact. Your life is yours once again."

He did not seem taken back by what she did that gave her a sense of comfort. Though it did feel odd to her the hug it was a the moment he only sing of thankfulness she could conjure up. He seemed like a cold man one that had undergone many hardships and much pain. She doubted that affection like that would ever be shown to him again. Though she would make sure that it would. It was strange that he was compatible with her. A young girl with a legend a man such as him was strange and why he chose to mask his true Identity intrigued her at the most. Weather he did not want her to know or just did not like it was beyond her. He had a reputation of his own she could tell.
A man like that would not blend into obscurity so easily. He was of great power and danger. To why had had not attempted to kill her was unknown.

He seemed to be about to speak when he was stopped by the howling of a wolf. But it was no ordinary beast this thing had a howl filled with emotion anger any way Laura howled herself when she could and when she did it always had an emotion attached with it. This one was anger and longing. Though for what she did not know for who. Her legs where crossed and the coldness of the storm began to get to her. She was shaking but was it out of cold or fear. And if fear it was why was she afraid.  She could see that the man before her also had a hit if nothing at all of fear and concern and she saw him utter the words “Hunter”. Though she retained he composure and stared at him awaiting a response if there was going to be any.

Then looking at her he spoke with haste "Go. Get out of here. Follow the same route down the mountain and return to the base. There you'll find your precious Hunter, you're true family. I release you from your blood pact. Your life is yours once again." She looked at him for a moment then smirked slightly. “I know, well knew most of what you have said, I know that you are not the man that  remember I know that you are not Hunter and some one else”. Biting her lip slightly she continued “Your scent was completely different to that of what I do remember from Hunter so I knew from the beginning that you obviously were not him.” Standing up she approached him and took his hand.

“Though I think you not an enemy but friend, you saved my life whether you intended to harm me I do not need to know but even though you release me I owe you my life and freedom. If there ever comes a time where you require service or I find you are endanger I will come for you no matter who you were to me whether an enemy or a target, you are  now my friend and I do not choose every one to be that.” Reaching into her pocket she pulled out a piece of carved wood. “While I was awaiting for my prey I twiddle with some wood using my claws I was able to carve uh something.” She had used her claws to care something that appeared to be shaped as an arrow head with the words: “Honorable Cajun”. “That was the name I could recall from you though I was not sure if you were called that.

Then on the back there was a red smudge that was permanent, it was her blood. “Just wanted to make sure you would not forget me”. With that she turned to exit but just before leavening she swiftly turned around and ran toward him unleashing her claws. Then just before she was able to come in contact she leaped over him, filliping. Lowering her claws just enough she made one of then snag on his cloak. And on impact with the ground she pulled his cloak over her and smiled. “Though friendship should never be thought to go with consideration, and considering that I have a feeling that Hunter is not a friend of yours I must if to remain in good consideration with him do an act to give you less than comfort…..but you will survive the cold and if not I will return to save you”……

So with those final words she ran out of the cave to face the harsh weather that awaited her. Though she knew not exactly who this Hunter was she was more than ready to meet the real him. And fid any one else was going to parade as his she would not be as caring as she was to the Cajun. She wanted answers about herself that she could only hope that Hunter knew. Though it was doubtful from what she already knew of herself that she would have told any one about who she was or about her past. As she raced through the woods she could feel the her body heat rising to great amounts as she already had a fever it was not getting worse.

Her body was shaking and she was so cold she had been shivering this whole time. Though the cloak did warm her to a point. Yet she was sick and from what she could tell she had a high fever and she could tell that healing was out of the question. But if she was correct she would be nearing the location that she had just fled from only hours ago. She could see the rising smoke and smell the smell of dead flesh and could feel that who ever this Hunter was she dearly hoped that he was on her side. She reached the clearing where she saw clearly what had happened or what was in progress. Wolf like creatures brutally fighting the troops of the Demon Sparada. At that point fear ran through her but not because of what she had seen but because of what she knew.

The gruesome sight had caused a memory to surface one that told her who she was or at least what she was. That single memory made everything clear and nothing obvious. She was scarred not because of what she would face but of what she had faced. And what she had done. Then the words that she had uttered some time ago she remembered “I kill not because I have to but because I want to, I’m a monster that enjoys to kill enjoys to watch the blood drop from my opponent I like to her the cries and screams for mercy that they shout while I kill them, Killing is what I was meant to do created for and no matter what I can never change that fact. Killing? I am it…”\

Laura stood there a moment motionless just standing there staring into space. When she snapped out of her zone and soon picked up a scent. That of which she knew to be Hunters. Scanning the battleground she soon locked onto a figure. He was tall with many good features she could feel and see that he was Hunter. Part of her wanted to run to him though a much stronger part of her knew that there was no point. Yes she could be happy but for only a moment then……then everything would go back to being the same. She would be the weapon and she would endanger him like she had now…

So with the power she contained she turned her back and dashed off back into the thick wilderness. Whilst the storm raged on her she kept running with all the power she could muster. Tears san down her pail cheeks at she gasped for air. Her vision had already began to blur and strength was minimal. The only think that kept her going was the her will to get as far away as possible from him from this and to be no more trouble or danger to any one. I killed her to do this. She could have been with him right know as she was running she could have been standing beside him talking to him. He would have been talking to him she would have heard his voice in her ears.

As she kept running she could feel the steep incline that exhausted her body even further. As she snow piled on her she clenched her fists. Pain ran through her like the blood in her veins. Eventually it became obvious to her she was on some sort of mountain slope. Knowing this she slowed herself down and began to walk. She wanted to get away yet it seemed pointless to plummet off the edge of a cliff. Soon she reached the panicle of the mountain. Peering down ward she could vaguely see the bottom though a pastel blue was visible suggesting that there was a lake below her. Looking onward she could see the peeks of the mountains. It became relevant to her that running back down the mound just for safety was relevant and she needed to get away fast. And running back the way she came he would obviously encounter he and she had no interest in engaging him in battle.

So leaving her with only one alternative. Taking a few paces back she took a deep sigh. Then with out any other doubts she raced toward the edge and dived off it. Water was below her though the height she leaped off was great and would cause great pain on impact. Her only hope was that the water was deep enough to sustain her once she hit the water. Only a few second later she hit the water. The icy chill froze her instantly she her whole body changed from boiling point to rabidly cooling and below safely limitations. Quickly she swam back up to the surface and gasped for air. Soon she realized that swimming was not her greatest strength. After taking on large breath she quickly looked toward shore it was a few meters away but no impossible to reach. So without hesitation she swam toward it. Her blood cold her head aching and her sight barely able to see any thing. 

Eventually she reached the shore and collapse there. Staring up at the darkened sky. Rain soon fell down soaking her already drenched body. She crawled upward toward a tree and leaned he back against it. While laying there she remember something of irrelevance though she knew it was something. “I’m not real you can’t make me real!” “Yes I can” “No…,you..you can’t I won’t!” “It was what she wanted X23 it was her last wish” “She’s dead! Dead! And you want me! To be her!” “You are her, you’ve always been her now you will just know you are.” “I don’t want to I don’t want any of this get out now! And let me live my messed up life.!” “I know you want to accept my offer X23 and you can weather you are or are not real you can and will be” “And how can you make me real?” “Simple” “how?” “Take my hand”.

She rubbed her hand and moaned in agony. The words echoed in her head “Your not real, you’re a clone your not her no matter what you think. Stop deluding yourself child your nothing like her but I can help you..” Coughing she soon saw that blood flowed out. “I’m going insane” she said. Soon her ears picked up a growling tone. She soon wildly looked around and her eyes focused on an animal. It was wild like most likely a mountain lion or cat like creature. “I can’t deal with this” she whispered. It approached her it’s eyes staring right at her. Having no choice she got to her feet shaking slightly and unleashed her claws. Pain ran through her.

The animal leaped toward her. Quickly reacting she dogged out of the way but because of her state her agility was limited. There for the beast was able to rip her flesh on the shoulder off. She rolled out of the way and awaited the second attack. Though the best just stood there. Slowly she stood up and retracted her claws and stared at the feral like creature and spoke “We’re not that much different, you kill to survive so do I”. With that she turned her back about to walk away when she heard it charge toward her. By that time it was already to late. The mountain lion had jabbed its claws into her back as it did she let out a shriek o pain and fell to the ground.

Trying to push herself up she looked at the beast that stared face to face with her. Why it had not killed her yet puzzled her immensely. It then looked behind her and it’s eyes he could tell filled with fear. And it soon jetted off in a hurry. A chill ran through her she slowly turned her head as she looked behind her though there was nothing there. But soon the pain of the attack and of her journey had gotten to her. It was amazing with her healing factor rapidly decreasing and her claws causing her to suffer fro metallic poisoning that she was still alive. But no longer could her body take it. Her arms fell limp and she fell back onto the hard cold ground embracing unconsciousness and death and all the pain or bliss it had to offer.

Steadily she crawled back to the main frame clinging to the ceiling. Her mind was racing as several ideas began to emerge in her mind. All of these unanswered questions were beginning to make her antsy. She released herself from the ceiling and dropped down in front of the door of the main frame. Looking down at two super solders down the hall she called out to them. “You two, come guard the door.” She quickly lifted her hand and pushed opened the door. Her feet urgently paced until she reached the chair. As soon as took a seat, a rush of determination washed over her face.

Lady Nightmare lifted her hand to her chin as her face  began to crease.  Mountains of inferences piled up in to her brain…Suddenly, it hit her like a defense linemen.”Computer, give me the composite of electrical out puts in uninhabited places in Japan.” 

Quickly a map of Japan appeared on to the screen. Bright yellow light indicated wear the electrical outputs were.  To anyone else but her this would appear pointless, but it was the contrary.Her eyes peered at screen as one place began to light up. “Computer, show only the mountains” 

The computer immediately zoomed in on the mountains. Bright lights appeared there even though they were supposed to uninhabited. Lady Nightmare knew this is where the Hidden Lotus Head Quarters was located but, she had to be sure.

“Guard!”, she called out. The pitter patter of a super solider echoed the room as he ran toward her.”Yes, ma’am” She looked up at him with all seriousness on her face.”Send, two of your men to this location…”She pointed to the screen.”They are only there to make an observation. Tell me everything you see and if the White Lotus resides there” ”Yes, ma’am” The solider proceed to run out of the door way.

1 hour later

The solider began to run through the door to an impatient Lady Nightmare. “Ma’am there seems to be a facility there. I also have reason to believe that that is in fact the Hidden Lotus Head Quarters. I also think I spotted one of your team mates” ”Which one”  ”G’bandit, ma’am”  “Have four of your men meet me here stat! “Lady Nightmare eyes were fixated on the solider.  She duly noted that one seemed to missing. Immediately she assumed that he was either captured or terminated.

“Computer, send the coordinates of the mountain composite I had to pull up earlier to every Wolf Pack base and indicating that it is the Head Quarters of the Hidden Lotus” 

Four super soldiers barged through the door just as soon as she finished her command. “We are attacking the Hidden Lotus Head quarters tonight.” Her chestnut eyes her fiery as she stood firm in front of them. ”One of you will set of several bombs in front and fight off the guards. Two of you will infiltrate: one on the east and one on the west. After you infiltrate will gather as much information possible, especially the location of Talon. Another one will be with me. Now let’s go! Move you’re a$$es!”

Quickly, she teleported to the weapons room. All around her were rows and rows of equipment. The lights shined down on to her as she grasped a mini utility belt and strapped it to her thigh. She swiped some explosive gel, bombs, several knifes and two pistols. Lady Nightmare's swords were all ready strapped to her back. Black smoked filled the room.

Finally. she arrived at the helicopter bay. The black copper’s noise filled the air as four ready soldiers were packed into it. Lady Nightmare ran to the entrance of the helicopter bay where she met two soldiers.”Guard this facility! I sense that there may be an attack soon!” she screamed. She teleported into the helicopter. Once inside she signaled the pilot to go. The sound of it blades became more distant as they began to take off.

Wolf Pack Scotland Base

     Sylver never liked movies.  They were sooooo predictable, so....unrealistic.  The whole point of them was a feel-good emotion somehow brought about by some unlikely hero who defeats impossibly powerful evil and gets the damsel in distress to fall for him.  And if it wasn't that, it was some horror flic about random idiots who purposfully walk into some of the most disturbing ways to die.  And they do die.
    
     But that wasn't the point.  The point was, in most movies, the bad guy, somehow, dies.  The hero finds some way, an abandoned sword, something poisonous, a nail, to kill him.  And he usually, if not definatly, dies.  Even in the horror flics...people die! They don't magically survive...they die.  Forever. Dead, done, gorged, smothered, decapitated....dead.
    
     And for all the reasons Sylver hated movies, she was jelous.  People just didn't die enough in real life.  And expecially not the ones she wanted to kill.  And for the undead life of her, she couldn' t figure out why they wouldn't let her; after all, if they cooperated, she would make it quick.  But, as usual, there was always one that was a real thorn in her side.  Or rather, bursting out of her sides.
    
     Sylver was still stratling Darkchild, screaming in his ear, gripping his pounding heart, as the blood began to flow freely from his face.  Nose, mouth, ears: the works.  If his skull didn't shatter within the next few seconds, at least he'd bleed to death, Sylver thought.  But then, he said something:
    
     "Expand."  The simple, one-word command was almost silent and pain-filled, but he was still grinning.  As always.  Why'd he say that? Sylver wondered.  What's there to...oh cra--
    
     Sylver arched her back, trying to continue screaming...but couldn't.  Her nails dug into his back, her one hand still locked around his heart.  The blood...his blood, was circulating through her body.  Suddenly, it became cold; then, without warning, rushed back to the center of her body, causing her to shake violently and release Darkchild's heart.  For a split second, shock held Sylver stone-still; she had no idea what to do.  
    
     Four red-solid spikes ripped out of her body, splattering red and blackish-maroon blood all over Darkchild.  Sylver fell onto her back, clutching the gaping holes in her sides.  She heard him say something...something about her and rights.  Sylver closed her eyes for a moment.  
    
     *Wham!*
    
     Sylver cried out, spitting dark colored blood in the process.  He'd kicked her where the spike had burst out.  She knew a couple ribs had snapped, but it didn't matter.  She could heal quick...she could--
    
     *Wham!*
    
     He'd kicked her again.  This time, she'd hissed at him, angry and feeling trapped as he stood over her.  Sylver barred her fangs.  Never, ever try to trap a vampire.  
    
     "This has been fun, love.  I can honestly say there are parts of me that I never thought could be broken."  He said rather smugley.  
    
     "Yeah, want me to find a few more?" Sylver muttered to herself, gritting her teeth as the wounds began to close.  Something white caught the corner of her eye.  Inconspicuously, she turned her head to see.  It was her Staff!  Sylver looked back to Darkchild, who was now moving just a few feet away from her, and was facing the field.  She extended her arm out, her fingertips barely brushing shaft.  If she could just get it, she could--
    
     The ground shuttered, knocking the Staff slightly farther away.  Sylver spat out curses for death and damnation in at least ten different languages.  She was getting tired of this.  Forcing herself to her knees, ignoring the cracked ribs since they were technically dead bone and didn't receive much feeling, Sylver dove for the Staff before anything else could happen, and spun around,  pointing it in Darkchild's direction.
    
     He rose from the ground, hands covered in dirt, and was lacking the scrapes and slashes he had before.  On the outside.  If Sylver listened carefully, she could hear his heart thumping...slower than it should have.  She couldn't help but smirk.  At least something had gone half-right tonight.  If her luck ever desided to show up, it might have provided him with a heart-attack.  But that was too good to be true, and too good of a death for him.
    
     "Little Vampire, you will survive this encounter, hopefully. But not without a few scars."  Darkchild's body began to glow a dull red.  Sylver gripped her Staff tighter.  Why the heck was he glowing?  I don't like glowing...glowing's not good.  Why the freak goodness aren't those wards doing anything? We're close enough...
    
     A pounding ache began to swell in her head.  Sylver looked around; there was so much fire.  White, angel fire...black hellfire.  She observed her own body.  It was covered with more than just Darkchild's blood.  Sylver groaned softly, as an overwhelming tiredness started to settle on her body and mind, feeling as if someone was filling her with liquified metal, and it was slowly solidifying.  She'd used too much magic--
    
     "Farewell.  Maybe next time, instead of biting and clawing out of hate...it can be more...planned and fun."  He suggested, his dark smile causing Sylver's undead blood to boil.  He began to glow brighter, and heat iginited the air around her. 
     Oh crap, Sylver fumed, he's going to explode...the mansion....it'll blow.  I don't know if I can cast more spells--
    
     The grass around Sylver started smoking and burst into flames.  No!  Sylver looked back and forth furiously, looking for an escape...an answer.  Dang! This never happens in movies...they are sooo---unrealistic.  Wait, that's it! Not real...
    
     Faster than a bullet, Sylver flew in between Darkchild's burning form and the mansion.  She didn't know if it would work, but it had to be tried.  She thrust the Staff up in one hand, facing the mansion, and held her other hand out facing Darkchild.  The dome of blazing red energy was enlarging rapidly, engulfing the garden shed, the garage, and the forest behind him.
    
     Levitating directly over the water-moat that surrounded the mansion, Sylver screamed,  " *Trofeu a iluzie!!!* "
    
     The Staff burned of white and blue flames which shot out in all directions, forming a doming-cacoon over the mansion.  Sylver grinded her teeth, blood trickling out her nose, and set her mind firmly to one thing: no one was getting in that base.  Her team needed her to protect it, and she would.  Maybe she couldn't stop Darkchild right now physically....but mentally, she would give him what he wanted to see.  The shield was an illusion caster.  Oh, the mansion would be destroyed, and the arsonal would explode...but for Darkchild's viewing only.
    
     The glowing red dome clashed into the flaming shield; red sparks ran up the white-blue dome like veins, bursting and frazzled.  Sylver grunted and hissed, aware of the two energies engulfing her: one, cool and empowering, the other, hot and painful.  Jagged lines of agony raced up and down her arm, which she could no longer move.  
    
     "Enough!" Sylver screamed. Giving this last assult everything she had left, Sylver tilted her head back and let herself fall.  The illusion dome amplified itself a hundred-fold, streaking out in all directions White light engulfed the area, more brilliant than burning.  For a moment, all sound failed.  There was nothing but a calm, gentle fall for Sylver, holding her in glorious light.  She could see the illusion playing out for Darkchild in his mind: the mansion had exploded, fire was raining down all around him, barbaqueing all the vegitation.  Believing what his mind told him, he began to walk away, and even called Graft on his comlink, telling him that the job was done and that he'd meet him at base-
    
     Cold water filled Sylver's nostrils as it flooded over her face.  Thrashing awkwardly, and with not much strength left, Sylver emerged from the moat coughing on scumy junk.  Oh, not healthy, not healthy! Need higher ground!  Sylver scrambled out of the ditch and whipped the water weeds out of her hair.  She saw that the flaming shield had reduced itself to small, floating balls of blazing light.  They resembled floating spirits, Sylver thought, crossed with a Japanese lantern.  They circled the mansion, still holding to the dome form, keeping the illusion strong and unbreakable.  Sylver snickered, placing her forehead on the muddy, yet burnt ground.  Darkchild was standing at the field's edge, watching the illusion, smiling as if he'd won the lottery.  The illusion was secure, and he would never hear or see her while she was within the "shield".
    
     Crushing his comlink in his hand, Darkchild, while walking away, called out, apparently to her: 
     "Neither of us are willing to die today, but someday we will be willing."  Sylver snorted.  Yeah, you be my guest; see how willing an immortal vampire is to die.  "But our lack for a better term spirits won't allow it on our first encounter, lass.  Now smart up as I am, and if you're still able to walk...walk away.  You, like the others of your team, will have countless times to make a chance at my life.  So leave, and I won't have to kill the only strong member of your team.....yourself."  He turned to face the mansion.
    
     Sylver slowly, still shaking, rose to her feet, Staff in hand.  "No, we won't need countless times to kill you.  Just once," Her eyes began to burn scarlet, "and I may not be the strongest: I'm just the only undead one with a Staff, and I like it that way.  Darling, " She said, grinning as if she were trying to show her fangs off as trophies, as she stepped out of the dome, able to be seen and heard now. "I can do more than just walk.  I can kill.  I will kill.  You in particular...maybe a few others tomorrow."  Sylver raised her Staff, lining the end of it with her eye and aiming the crystal at Darkchild, as a sniper would line up his target.  "Anyway, it never would have worked out between us, pet.  I'm too good for you."
    
     Simultaneously, the Staff glowed purple and a binding spell circle appeared under Darchild's feet.  " *A transporta Mariners Trench* "  Sylver cast the spell and the binding circle began to shrink, until it exploded in a shower of sparks that faded away.  Good, she breathed, now I can hold true to what I promised him.  His friends will envy the death I gave him...it was far too kind.  Although, if the pressure doesn't kill him at the bottom of the deepest place in the world, at least it'll keep him there.  Stumbling to her knees, Sylver placed the Staff on her chest, her vision beginning to fade.
    
     "Duende." The Staff melted back into her body as she collapsed to the ground.  Grabbing a handful of dirt and grass, Sylver knew that she needed to rest since the spells had drained her, but she didn't want to.  She didn't like letting the darkness take her; it felt like death, and that was something she only gave time for once.  The house's magic wards disappeared completely and the shield evaporated, revealing the safe and mostly-not-destroyed base.  The colors and lights began to mix, and before sleep claimed her, Sylver whispered softly:
    
     "Hey....Akwa....I require that assistance now....please..."