Engineering Godhood [Open RPG]

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#1 Edited by deactivated-59c716930b8a6 (9227 posts) - - Show Bio

Downtown, Manhattan

It was an unearthly sight. From just below the snowy clouds, dozens of nGods sporting various attires emerged from a vividly blue rupture in space itself, their forms initially shadowed in the spacial distortion that temporarily connected the New God dimension to its progenitor realm. Carrying metal devices colored ivory and shaped like pillars, the streets below erupted in cries of shock and fear as the beings displayed their defiance of gravity by descending from the spacial rupture.

Though the rays of sun beaming down on them may have likened them to angels hovering above the masses, the large shadow their gathered forms cast upon the ground inspired more fear than hope. Proudly hovering among them was Amarth, clutching a metal pillar in each hand. Symbolizing his position as leader and sage to the nGods of Divine Aether was the dark colored gi and scarlet sash he'd clothed himself with. Even given his attire and black, spiked hair, his face was almost immediately recognizable among the empowered horde. Though he had yet to crack so much as a smirk, his chest surged with pride as those he lead gathered around him, eyes drawn to their leader.

"As I said before, less people are ascending to godhood as time goes by, no doubt because of those annoying global efforts to prevent people from getting their hands on Divus Crystals and being transformed. Not that our realm will ever suffer a shortage of Gods," he said, slightly angling his head to the side. "Our goals here today are simple; plant these pillar bombs in the nearby bodies of water, and they'll detonate divus crystals and radiation. Unlike the initial release of these crystals, the world is now aware of what the crystals are capable of, and will no doubt show up to stop us. If anyone tries to get in your way, aim to incapacitate, and then continue your mission. If you're unable to shake them off, don't worry about planting the bombs in water, just prime them where you stand... or, if you're flying, below where you're hovering."

His lips parted into a reassuring smile.

"I have faith in you all and your ability to complete this mission. By the end of this, many others will share gifts like our own. Begin!"

At his final utterance, the gods hovering around him sped off in opposite directions, seeking the harbors surrounding Manhattan...

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#2 Posted by Bulwark (378 posts) - - Show Bio

@dreadpool10:

"Ok...here we go..."

Off-brand Maverick Inc. combat boots left small craters in the pavement as superhuman legs carried Conrad towards the center of the city where Amarth hovered. There was no cape sprawling from the boy's back, the signature garment folded up inside his hooded jacket. There had been no time to unfurl it, the godlike youth taking off towards Manhattan the moment his ears picked up the news report. The Fourth of July was about to be ruined by a metahuman terror attack on New York City; the Bastion wasn't having that.

For the first time in his superhero career, he curled his hand into a fist as he approached, the nGods around descending at a rate that could only be described as slow-motion to Conrad. People screamed and ran, but he couldn't make time to save them when there was a greater threat present. His muscles bulged, fist complete; it was a scary thing. He didn't know quite how hard he could actually hit, only relying on shoves to send supervillains cascading through walls and across city streets. No, a punch from the Bulwark could send a man through a mountain...or worse.

It is him. The man who attacked Venezuela. He wants to do it again here, he thought, eyes narrowing as he approached. Ten miles out, then five, then one, all in the span of a second...

"Not gonna happen!" he said through grit teeth, leaping from the street up towards Darkevius Halliwell at speeds that seemed to burn up the air around him. One powerful punch, a blow made of matter that could dent stars, aimed directly at the nGod's head...an attempt to shut down the attack before it could even begin.

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#3 Edited by deactivated-59c716930b8a6 (9227 posts) - - Show Bio

@bulwark:

His attention held upon his departing companions, Darkevius' sensory matrix activated a split second too late. His head snapped backwards as a fist powered by inconceivable strength and speed collided with his head. His dominance over his own gravitational field didn't save him from being hurtled across the air at a velocity that might've singed his gi were it made of regular materials. The pillar bombs he was carrying in either hand flew out of his grasp.

At approximately four miles away from his original position, he forced himself to a midair halt, a faint aura of white briefly visible as he surged with gravitational dominance once again. He swayed slightly, head throbbing uncomfortably from the blow. He might've hovered there, blankly questioning what had hit him so hard, when his metahuman eyes caught a figure in the far distance.

Already? Come on now. Dark thought, shaking his head. His right hand adopted an faintly incandescent glow as he gathered a number of energized particles to use in retaliation. Simultaneously, he lowered himself to the panic stricken streets below, amid the crowds of civilians gathered in astonishment or fleeing in horror. An ideal move, assuming the powerful youth was a heroic type. Dark doubted whether a hero would throw another blow like that if it put the civilians at risk.

Amarth thrust his arm forward, spreading out his radiant palm. The assimilation of energized particles was accompanied by an odd resonation and a cerulean sphere, a smirk creeping onto his features as he somewhat difficultly took aim (his head still rather hurt). From his palm, a lightning fast, twelve shot volley of beams erupted forth, focused upon the youth. Dark hoped that the force of the beams would take the youth out of commission just long enough for the nGod of Quantum Interaction to collect the dropped pillar bombs.

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#4 Posted by Bulwark (378 posts) - - Show Bio

@dreadpool10:

After his blow connected, Conrad landed in the street about a quarter mile from where he'd jumped, skidding to a halt across the pavement. His knuckles smarted slightly, and he rubbed them, eyes focusing in on the nGod. He breathed in and out, having sprinted from the Great Lakes to land that strike.

OK. OK. Relax, he thought, red eyes magnifying on the towering nGod of quantum physics who hovered nearly four miles away. He hardly seemed fazed!

"Like I said, last chance to-"

Uh-oh.

The blasts of energy moved almost instantaneously, Conrad's eyes focusing in too far on the nGod to realize what exactly was happening. He saw only the smirk before the luminous volley tore through the air towards him, allotting him only the time to take a small step backwards before they collided dramatically with his torso, arms, and face. The searing energies ripped at his form, the Junior Juggernaut lifted from where he stood and propelled down the street. Skidding across the ground, he bounced through an intersection, turning a car into a convertible and leaving small craters wherever he touched the ground.

Dazed, he blinked, getting up slowly to his feet. Where cuts lined his skin, only luminous energy poured forth; these lacerations closed almost immediately, replaced by artificial skin.

Too many people nearby to try burning him up...but I have to do something, he thought, reaching up with a muscled hand to tear away the scorched remains of his jacket. The scraps fluttered to the ground, revealing a Thee Champion t-shirt and a red cape behind his back. With one hand, he brushed sweaty hair from his crimson eyes.

"Alright, let's go," he muttered, pushing off from where he stood with his heavily-booted feet. He sprinted down the street towards Darkevius, launching himself towards the nGod with both arms outstretched in an attempt to grab him with both arms and forcefully tackle him through the air. Any hold he got would be difficult to break; if he could get any grip on the nGod, he'd rain down punches upon his head. No more people were going to be hurt today.

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#5 Edited by Zaniel (980 posts) - - Show Bio

Pankration Island, Greece - Roughly a month ago

And as he gazed upon the angel, Rafael Romeiro spoke, "Zaniel. The greatest swordsman alive", he began. "Does testing your skill against supposed gods sound like a worthy challenge?", Rafael asked. "Because I have one for you. There's a group of men who think they've ascended to godhood and have attacked my home before running from me. I need your help in bringing them back down to Earth".

Zaniel replied.

"You will have my sword."

Present day, nGod resurgence

The Angel of Luck was not here this day to protect lives or stop a villain. Today, he was merely here to test his aptitude against those that would dare to call themselves Gods, those seeking to impose their will against a world unwilling to bend. He stood still, looking upon a great mammoth of a self proclaimed nGod and kept emotionless eyes. Zaniel was not about to get excited. Many called themselves God's had later died.

"Do not disappoint me, mortal..."

Without waiting for a reply the Pankration Prodigy blitz forward, an array of artistic footwork and body contortions made it almost impossible for his adversary to anticipate his trajectory, and in one single, almost graceful swoop....

No Caption Provided

The self-proclaimed God, would meet whatever fake Hell he looked up to. He would die as he lived - In shame.

The Angel of Luck sauntered off, looking for his next adversary. Hoping, longing for them to be a worthy match...

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#6 Posted by Great_Samson (890 posts) - - Show Bio
No Caption Provided

“Ser. There is another nGod incrusion. It appears they intend to bomb the land of Manhattan.”, the small furry creature alerted Augustus who was as per usual reading today's newspaper in the lavish living room of Tír na hOige.

“The land of Manhattan you say, Domovoi?”, abruptly folding the newspaper and sliding his fingers along the fold with thoughts obviously elsewhere, The Man of Marvels rose towering from the seat. Buttons of his black shirt richocheting off of walls and surfaces after he revealed the costume underneath in a savage manner. “I think this might be a job for Samson.”

Moments later he strolled out of the premises of the Faraday Estate and took off into a nearby field, control over universal information already weaving clusters of neutron matter into his atomic make-up. He continued walking, tall and cool as the ground under his feet started trembling more and more with each step. Personal mass continuing to ramp up while his path was on a superlative decline as the dirt beneath his feet became crushed under his feet.

No Caption Provided

Then, in the solitude of an enormous crater, the former Neutron Son awoke again curled in a fetal crouch. Suddenly the living neutron star burst into flight through personal planetary fields, weight stimulated by an encompassing autogravity. He re-emerged over the skies of Manhattan, evidently entering the airspace from a high orbit that allowed him to fly at superluminal speeds without invoking atmospheric disasters. Immediately, the nGod honed in on one of his fellows. He didn't attack, no, instead he used his clear speed advantage to deprive him of his Divus bomb.

“Seriously?”, Augustus eyed the nGod with a mean eye. “You know there's a chance people won't emerge from this, right? No power, nothing. Just dead weight.”, he concluded by throwing the device just above himself before inciderating it completely with a raw optic blast. “Pitiful. Go home.”, voice thundering louder than the sonic boom of his departure after more bombers.

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#7 Edited by Shot (2987 posts) - - Show Bio

Good Morning!

Grodd had yielded to the rippling massage of his electric chair, awaking from a dream of floating capes enterprising his city in fetid gas, Civilians screaming and choking in his dream would pry open his conscience. Beginning the day with a nightmare and vibrating coffee, it was unsettling, He’d determine it was a sign that he needed a short break from all the labor he was going through day to day. The Oaf sat back into his vibrating chair and began to watch his morning cartoons without a care in the world. The well renowned heroes ‘super secret’ home was a one room apartment of the TPS headquarters located right in the middle of the labyrinth city.. But like a baboon he was, Grodd was completely oblivious to the tremble of the city. The laughter of the televisions children’s show would dim the screams on the streets outside. The vibrations of his electric chair would blind him of the bolts of combat that shook the city. Closed blinds that blocked the morning sunshine would hide the reveal of the nGods arrival. A tired half-awake brute could only focus on the thing in front of him. The television broadcasted a cartoon that was an oasis of bright colors about an amicable man of might who brought down a black spiked hair villain in one single punch. Grodd was being the definition of a couch potato as he immersed himself in another world.

This break of relaxation was short-lived as the public emergency television broadcast suddenly detached him from his immersion of cartoons. “Wha?” A news reporter high in the sky filming the arrival of gravity defying people holding what seemed like bombs not to far away from the TPS HQ. Then suddenly a blue streak impacted against the one at front, greeting the arrival of these new beings in defiance. The shockwave that was shown on the live broadcast was absurd as the news helicopter was pushed out like it was caught in an instant hurricane. That’s where the cameras view suddenly turned black, leaving Grodds silent apartment in the dark with a dim television screen.

No Caption Provided

It would only be a matter of seconds. The shockwave of the collision was spread throughout the setting of the city. Extreme overruling winds broke the poise of his apartment windows and teeter the blindfolds basking Grodd in the angelic view of the nGods hovering above the city. “Are you kidding me!” He remarked. “I just had these windows fixed god dammit!” Grodd was unworried about the numerous threat, he was always shilly shally at these scenarios. Thinking that his brawn had no match, he would paint his smile on his face again and hulk jumped out into the city towards the situation, fully dressed in his costume. “Someone has to pay for my broken windooooows!” He yelled at one of the hovering warriors.

The warrior spent his speed instantly blitzing Shot with a super strength punch with all his might, but he was met with a laughing smile and an unmoved man. Mocking the attack in his jaunty expression. "I guess you will do!" chuckling as he counter attacked with a slight slap knocking the attacker across the sky with such little effort.

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#8 Edited by Ultra_Girl_ (3507 posts) - - Show Bio

Star was minding her own business as she was attempting to get a VISA card however is was only recently she realized that porting around the U.S with out any sort of documents was actually illegal, now the unfortunate Queen was waiting in line with a flustered face after a local vigilante in Arizona gave her this friendly advise.

"Uggh this is taking decades" one elderly foreign lady infront of Star stated in annoyance. still naive on Earth's references the Queen of Mewni cocked her head and raised an eyebrow "excuse me ma'am but I do not believe that is true since I've been keeping track of the time, it's only been about" she glanced at the clock momentarily before looking back at the woman "two hours.."

Before the old looking woman could reply back sarcastically a rippling shockwave traveled forward and knocked the glass and everyone inside the NYC USCIS office, some glass bounced and scrapped across Star's clothing as she too fell to the ground in surprise. "What's going on?" she said in a confused tone as she recovered in moments from the surprise effect.

She immediately ran outside of the building to see all the commotion going on, numerous flying people in odd attires were flying around "I remember them, something about them in the news" she commented as she saw @shot smack one with casual ease away. Unsure of who was the aggressor here, Star simply manifested her battle gear and Sword of Solus in a handful of flashy sequences required to summon them from her pocket dimension.

No Caption Provided

She wielded her sword with both hands as she took several steps backwards to protect the occupants inside the building, (The one she was in earlier) from any attackers "Don't concern yourselves too much, as long as I'm here I will make sure no harm comes to you" Star advised to the dozens of men and woman inside.

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#9 Posted by Maverick_6 (10434 posts) - - Show Bio

No Caption Provided

"Strong." The woman manhandles the seemingly simple soldiers, . The only thing that prevented her fists from from piercing torsos was the Kevlar body armor that the men wore. And yet still, her fists shattered every bone with every impact. "Fast." Her body was a weapon, that obliterated all that lay in it's path at blinding speed. "Tough." Normal bullets pinged off her body and her armor like they were nerf darts. Rockets could scarcely hope to hit, and even so, barely warranted more than stagger with what impact could be managed. She tossed cars at soldiers like pieces of candy, her feet ripping up the concrete wherever she went.

"Just my type."

A slow smile comes across Jackal's face, as he watches the "New God" tear across through Maverick's mindless M.O.R.S. The bomb was set to detonate promptly. Amidst the chaos, a small team crowded around it beneath her notice for quite some time. The bomb had buttons, and mechanisms. And few ENCUs were as adept to the task as one Eric Bradshaw, who grew so desensitized, so used to the chaos, he was all but utterly unphased by the men flying about as if dolls, incapacitated or killed in single strikes by the combat capable so called "God." Her gaze fell upon him, and soon, she darted towards him too fast to be heard. The man knew it wouldn't even be .4 seconds before she'd impact him. Yet...

He did nothing.

A blur struck her, and she, and hker aggressor, cracked the concrete in her tumble. In which Maverick's Super Cyborg CQC Specialist landed on top of the woman, sitting sqaurely on her chest as she kicked the ground hard enough for it to shatter in some effort to escape the ground n' pound. But, his feet adhered to the ground, and he wouldn't budge. His fists flied towards her at blinding speed as she raised up her arms, trying to block his every move as his fists moved to dissect her defense. Her body moving not frantically but with fervent effort to abuse her superior strength against however this was. Fists came down hard and fast, each punch pounding her head deeper and deeper into a spider-silk shaped dent in the ground. An offhand smack on her part causes the ground to give way and the cyborg to fly away.

Jackal swerves in the air as if a six hundred pound cat, landing on his feet and dragging back as he dug his claw-like fingers into the ground, and friction doing the rest as he halted. Not even a moment after, she was on in, eager to follow up immediately at speeds faster than a speeding a bullet. And yet with equal ease, Jackal deflected the woman with two beats. A side step, and then a toss over her hip. From forward, straight down. The woman hitting the ground so hard that shockwaves flipped over near-by cars. The dust didn't even have time to clear before he was he had her in an arm bar.

Overriding Muscle inhibitors.

*CRACK*

The noise of her arm breaking echoed all about, the noise of superhuman bone breaking audible for almost what seemed liked miles. Jackal's body let a steawem off, as it almost glowed redhot for a brief moment, before cooling. The woman did not release, she writhed and resisted, he couldn't keep her down all day. Her moved, his arm trying to get around her head for the choke, but with only a hand, she tossed him back, his body smashing and tumbling through the near-by skyscraper.

The woman rises, clutching her arm as she feels something touch her back. The pain is excruciating, and yet, she can't bring herself to scream. The body does indeed have a bio-electric field, and certain voltage(s) at which cells operate. This electric field humans possessed. But it doesn't travel through air and so direct contact was required. This magnetic field could travel through the skin, and other magnetic fields of the same voltage could also be used to stimulate the nerves, irregardless of a body's durability in question.

In essence, the Maverick Mutant Hunter created a very specific voltage with his baton, just the right kind of plasma to stimulate her nervous system directly, and to light it on fire. The ground melted with the baton's power, and her greatest strength turned into her weakness, as her muscle tensed uncontrollably, all at the mercy of Maverick's mosty acclaimed mutant killer. Her bones were crushed by her muscle, and he moved the baton from back to behind the head. With the flick of his wrist as he moved it, the god was reduced to a drooling vegetable on the ground, the woman lying bloody and beaten, with blood dripping from her every orifice. His face indicated no joy, no satisfaction and no pride over his "Godslaying" his physically powerful companion had. More, to Eric, this was all out of necessity.

He moved back to the device, placing one end of the hood on the device, and the other end of the grappling round was fired from the launcher at a speeding United States jet, as the inert and disabled bomb was whisked off by a cargo plane. Jackal walked by, him, his usual smile on his face, as he jumps up, clearing rooftops in single bounds as he goes for Recon. Bradshaw, simply shoots a grappling hook off and rapples up to his objective points.

But not before making a stop.

----

@ultra_girl_:

"Sta-" He cut himself off. "I mean, Ultra-Girl." The Special-War Human Weapon was behind Ultra Girl with no noise indicative of his presence, despite all the gear he carried.

"Their objective isn't to harm civilians. It's to try to detonate these bombs to try to give everyone superpowers. Everyone. It's like if you take a gun, give it to anyone. Convict or otherwise, morally and mentally capable, a fucking gun. Kids. Thugs. Hobos. Business leaders. Whoever the fuck is here. Best thing these people should do is get underground. Course, their random ass distribution has made people like Curve get a hold of it too. Goddamn morons. Only a matter of time before every bomb they're setting goes off and irradiates the place. That's the main concern right now."

His voice was spoken of both anger, and urgency. Promptly he pulls out a smartphone, a small map of everything in the city on it. Every bomb, even ones on the move, being tracked by a constantly streamed set of coordinates.

"I'd like your help."

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#10 Posted by Ultra_Girl_ (3507 posts) - - Show Bio

@maverick_6: Ultra Girl let out a sharp gasp as she heard a well known voice and turned around, she would have begin letting out tears of joy to see an old yet familiar face again were it not for the situation at hand.

She listened intently to what Bradshaw had to say as he explained the situation and could feel his voice move her with his mixed tone of anger and urgency, she knew there was no time for small chit chat "You'll always have my help Bradshaw.." she said with a small comforting smile as she broke her defensive position from the civilians and gave a quick dash to his side "Please guide me a path and I'll handle what ever threat comes our way, also it's your choice whether we fight side by side or divide and conquer"

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#12 Edited by deactivated-59c716930b8a6 (9227 posts) - - Show Bio

@bulwark:

Amarth lowered his emanate palm, the light subsiding after a few seconds. Skeptically eyeing the empowered youth as to make sure the blast had incapacitated him, a sigh of mingled exasperation and amusement escaped him as the youth rose to his feet. <Really? More Thee Champion costumes? At least I switched to this gi...> He thought as the youth did away with his tattered jacket.

He brought up his fists defensively, eyes burning with solar heat as the youth approached. Keen senses enabled him to detect incoming presences in the wide vicinity - the alliances and other persons he'd expected to act as a thorn in his side on this mission. His playful annoyance would soon rise to anger, perhaps even rage when he discovered that one of his companions had already been killed. At the moment, however, his hands were tied with another problem.

"What're you-"

He began to say as he was tackled into the air, muscles tensed as he struggled against the boy's grip. He gritted his teeth as a flurry of punches weathered down upon him, growling as his head was met with a particularly painful series of stabbing throbs. The heat in his eyes rose in radiance with every knuckle and temple collision. If it went on, blood was soon to be drawn; a splitting headache debilitated him further, holding him in place for more blows to be rained upon his head. Until-

No Caption Provided

His form would rapidly shimmer and vanish as survivalist instinct took hold of him, causing his molecules to vibrate till both intangibility and momentary invisibility finally enabled his escaped from the head splitting nightmare (though not without a severe headache, reddened bruises, and slightly wonky vision). You pack a good punch, kid. Shame one of us is more misguided than the other.

His hands were rigidly cupped to his side as he shimmered into existence once more, copious amounts of blue light issuing from his palms. The assimilation of energized particles was displayed through a orb that had formed in his cupped hands. As his fierce gaze fixed upon the youth, he thrust both arms forward, palms opening to reveal the orb inside. In the moment of doing so - hopefully at point blank range of the boy - the eruption of particles would burst forth from his hands, heating flow of air around them as it was unleashed.

If the blast impacted, Amarth would quickly say, "Don't get up, kid. Or better yet, don't leap back into the fray. We're not here to hurt anyone." He cast a somewhat worried glance in the general direction of the Bionic God, Adrian Hastings (@mr_hastings), who's uncanny arrival he'd detected. Most of us, anyway...

Meanwhile....

@Everyone

The nGods heading to the harbor stirred with apprehension as multiple among them were removed from the air. By the looks of it, one of their ranks (@maverick_6) had even gone to hold of their adept attackers. The vast majority, however, continued onward to the harbor, some collecting Divus Bombs that had fallen. Whether or not their comrades fell, there was an objective to be completed, and going off course to engage in combat was ultimately futile. The bloody and battered nGod woman that Maverick Incorporated had downed being a shining example.

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#13 Posted by Bulwark (378 posts) - - Show Bio

@dreadpool10:

The fight continued through the city streets, the tackle carrying the two through the air as Conrad's unstoppable momentum forced them nearly a mile from where they'd collided. The Bastion's deadly red eyes were focused on those of his foe, his fists raining a flurry of blows on his head. He'd never unleashed so much power before, and the fact that he was fighting now with more force than he'd ever anticipated even using was simultaneously frightening and liberating. The whole time, though, the back of his mind buzzed with a sense of danger, of urgency; his purpose here was to protect, not destroy. Every blow sent shockwaves into the streets which ripped at the air and cracked glass windows, the force generated by each strike felt even by those on the outskirts of the city.

And then his foe was gone, vanished right from under his arms. Surprised, he tumbled forward, skidding against the ground face-first. Having intended to land atop his enemy, he could only go limp as he left a small trail of broken pavement behind as he skidded across the street. Coming to a stop with his hands in the road as a boys' would be in snow, he extricated himself from the Earth, rubble pulled up along with his fists as he turned to look for his enemy. This was no invisibility; he'd disappeared from Conrad's godlike grip, slipping away like it'd been nothing. His eyes flashed white, atomic vision scanning the area for Amarth's silhouette.

Where could he-?

No Caption Provided

The instantaneous arrival of the Shadow of the Divines was more than enough to surprise the Rising Bulwark. Even with his insane speed, he could only so much as turn around before the Sage cupped his hands and charged his attack. Eyes wide, and knowing what was to come, Conrad couldn't dodge, rooted to the spot in shock. He had only one option.

As he witnessed the beam crawl from Amarth's hands with his accelerated reaction time, he reached out with a hand to halt the luminous assault's progress, pressing his palm into the center of the blast. The bright light surprised even his advanced eyes, which could not adapt in time to prevent temporary blindness. Wincing, he looked away, the energies ripping at his palm. From where his fingers splayed, excess beams shot out, his hand only dividing the blast. Energy rays tore through the street and incinerated cars, surprising him just enough to cause a lapse in resolve...

Immediately after, the force blew him backwards, the blast overtaking him from his arm and spreading to his chest. Spinning, he was hurled from where he stood before Amarth, his body ripping through the front of an empty bus and colliding with the stone exterior of a skyscraper on the other side. Rubble fell around him, cracks spiraling up the side of the building; he sat with his eyes closed, his left arm literally steaming from the power. His shirt was torn and burnt, but not destroyed completely; his cape, tattered beneath him, the ends completely singed off. But he was, at the very least, intact.

Head spinning, he struggled to his feet, sitting up from the boy-shaped crater he'd forced into the side of the building. He stumbled slightly, weakened from the attack; glowing blood ran from his lip. He rubbed it away with a burnt hand, standing up straight with some difficulty. All around, the entire street was devastated.

"Don't get up, kid. Or better yet, don't leap back into the fray. We're not here to hurt anyone."

Don't call me kid, he thought, but didn't speak. Still recovering, he couldn't waste any energy on talking immediately. He took a pace forward, wobbled, then continued, his posture improving with each step until he steadily strode up to the nGod.

"I don't...believe you," he said, pressing the tip of his boot into the ground and suddenly taking off. He began a dead sprint towards his target that would take less than a second to completea, the youth becoming little more than a blur with a red cape trailing behind as he ran towards Amarth, fist winding up behind. He'd throw a simple punch to his enemy's gut, a devastating blow despite its simplicity. Were it to succeed, he'd follow up with an uppercut from his other hand, aiming to launch Amarth into the sky.

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#15 Edited by Turncoat (259 posts) - - Show Bio

His eyepieces of his helmet gazed down across Manhattan, from an accessed highrise. Krueger's gloved fingers wrapped with each other as his mind quietly engaged in a civil war against itself. The United States of America was at the moment, being invaded by nGods close to patriotic day of the year. His original plans had consisted of watching the gods reign terror on Manhattan, until he started thinking further. nGods had become a true problem for the world. Their very existence scared the globe on their appearance for good reason. Given their current action against the United States, it was difficult to consider any attempt against them, yet their potential was what terrified him. Assuming they carried out their will over the world, it would could be only months until world domination was established. And all who fought against it could be exterminated for the betterment of the new world. The thought of that was enough to make the nazi raise arms against them, except in the case of an attack on the US. America was at the bottom of his favorite nations without a doubt, yet the footage that journalism had captured of the gods moving in those massive pillars was enough to even make a nazi consider setting hatred aside for the survival of everyone.

No Caption Provided

He took a slow breath, lowering his hands at his sides. Indestructable, Apocalypse, Menacing, and obviously Godlike had become token terms when describing the foreign invaders, and they were right from what the gods had proved to the Earth. As spectacular as it would be to see the gods bring a reign of terror to one of the most American cities on the most American day would be, it would be less than stellar seeing an army of the gods moving over the planet wiping out any opposition in their path. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, he begrudgingly repeated to himself as a telepathic platform formed underneath his feet, slingshotting from the rooftop and six stories above the Manhattan streets. Even at that height the sight of red, white, and blue was enough to almost make him regurgitate.

Within half a minute of flight, his platform went to a sudden stop gazing upon one of the aforementioned gods ahead of two brave individuals outside of an office with a very clear impact hole gaping in the brick of the building. The massive god,@mr_hastings that appeared to be covered in solid gold with a massive arm raised with malicious intent outwards towards the two was enough to make him stop the flight and observe the scene. His vision shifted to the two ahead of the golden nGod,@ultra_girl_,@maverick_6 they looked somewhat suited for the fight, finally proving that there was an opposition against the gods in this city. Krueger's platform lifted higher into the air, for a hope of avoiding detection, until the conflict between the trio would escalate enough that his intervention would make a difference.

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#16 Edited by Shot (2987 posts) - - Show Bio

Another flying cape quickly caught the falling bomb that he previously slapped away and sped onwards trying not to get caught in his sonata of strength. “Where they going?” Ignoring his combat wanted presence, he knew that they weren’t fleeing. This amount of preparation would not be so easily dealt with. They had a plan and an objective that obviously would be shown as a first priority to completely ignore Shots presence as an obstacle. It worried him even more, like they were diving in for a suicide mission. Mustering up their lives for one task in mind like it was a greater cause. Or perhaps they just saw Shot as common filth and thought they were high classed deities, Maybe it was both and it irritated Shot that these godly beings could not be the all-loving carefree oaf like he was raised to be. Power hungry metas had to roll around people like pigs in mud shunning the common wealth in their superiority, like they were just a second rate species that didn’t belong in this world anymore. It drove Shot to follow the path and pursue the hovering ‘gods’

No Caption Provided

The proximity of drifting figures in sight were enough to make the citizens worry and scramble for shelter and protection. These defenseless citizens needed his help and others had the same ambition as the maestro of muscle to arm themselves and take barbaric actions to defend their homes. As shot flew in the air from his super strengthen jumps he could sight see magical works that bursted from an office building and a metal warrior tactically produce a victory over one of the bomb carriers.

Then a golden flash would interrupt his pursue of the hovering terrorist, forcing him to instinctively land.

Thunderous footsteps behind the sunshine tinted automaton (@mr_hastings)would rise the conflict, Shot's presence was made aware with his far away chuckles. The arriving immense power level would usually be depicted as an instant recommendation to flee. No need to scan or calculate, the signs were clear of his absurd strength, the mere street would carol in vibrations just from his tread. Casually walking through the evacuating crowds that scurried like tiny elves compared to his colossal and jolly stature. Shot was tracking the hovering metas towards the harbor, but saw the triumph of mechanical genius successfully show its melancholic entrance. The metal humanoid emerging from the sky with a zeal of constructing armor only agitated and called out to Grodd for his immediate intervention. Why would anyone increase their size to tattle with one another? In Shots eyes it was the same method of flexing at another man, challenging them to contest you in their intimidating brawn, but Shot saw the robot perform such a basic bullying at such smaller beings, (@maverick_6, @ultra_girl_) it was not manly in any way possible. He was going to show him the meaning of, ‘why don’t you pick on someone your own size’ The shrewd man would warrant a troubling introduction in his passive aggressive approach “My My! What a big fella you are!

They outnumbered the robot 1 v 3, there was no need to obey its commands. @turncoat

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#17 Posted by Maverick_6 (10434 posts) - - Show Bio

Bradshaw

@mr_hastings: @ultra_girl_: @shot@turncoat

He raised an eyebrow as she dashed over to him, his expression seemingly ever stoic expression. He raises his gloved hand, and places it atop her head, resting it there as if petting her.

"You haven't changed a bit have you?"

His hand moves back to his gun and he motions his head down the path, nodding to down the street. "Come on. Let's move."

The trek began and men of Maverick began to move in, more so in the background. Jets joined in the air, streaking by at speeds faster than boom that accompanied them. As they overlooked the ground, speeding towards New Gods as they hauled off their packages. Miniguns and missiles primed.

(Bradshaw)"Raptor Seven Seven, this is Alpha one. Tell you're squad to not open fire. Repeat. Do not open fire. You may or may not set the bombs offe

(Pilot) "Alpha one, Raptor Seven Seven acknowledge. Holding fire from new gods until."

(Jackal) "Raptor Seven Seven, this is Jackal. Requesting sky surf."

(Pilot) "Jackal this is Raptor Seven Seven. **** yeah. En route.

A blur incited his blitz reflex as nGoone such being appeared, wit Bradshaw's smoke bomb being shot without his doing anything, reacting automatically as he would towards anything, irregardless of whether or not the man had actually attacked. Smoke cleared and it was revealed to be another entity. Already, as the smoke cleared, he was aiming at it, and is memory instantly drew him back towards Iceland. "Bold's a busy man Hastings. Should make an appointment later. Come back in a few weeks and someone'll right you one for next year" His eyes scanned the area others gathering all around at any given moment. Another hero, commonly known as "Shot" appeared, his eyes squinted and he saw someone who may have even sought to intervene.

His first round fired, a resonance bomb seeking to find it's Adrian's skull. The grenade if so hit, wouldn't explode. It would release an ultra-high frequency noise, of sufficient potency to melt steel and concrete. Being that sound traveled through all materials, and this bomb was well tuned, the sound would travel through Adamantium entirely, not destroying it. But by ignoring it and using it to conduct like anything else. It was specifically tuned to rattle internal components and fine motor circuitry in his head and mouth.

Jackal

@dreadpool10

He sprinted as he jumped rooftop to rooftop, covering hundreds of meters in a single bound, smiling with glee as an F-72 next generation fighter streaked through the air after him. Looking back, Jackal began his set up, as he ran along the side of a building and jumped free falling through the air before he caught the craft.caught him, Jackal not grip into it, but adhering to it with his hands and feet as he landed on it, standing on it as it flew.

The cybernetic psychopath hollared like Cowboy as he flew on the Jet crouched as it brought itself to go faster to rip through high in the sky, the jet en route to the flying new gods. No rockets or guns, because that would endanger and could potentially set off the bombs. It gave Jackal great pleasure to draw his blade as the jet used abnormal maneuvers, designed to not dogfight with New gods, before. The jet broke the sound barrier as Jackal crouched. He spoke loudly and obnoxiously, nor the words, nor the sound of the speeding jets able to reach the New gods before it would be too late.

"Been a while since I've taken a god's head."

He said, his resonance blade seeking to lop through one of their heads with a slash tuned to weakened their bodies fortitude through the use of resonant frequency. At such speed and strength, if the blade didn't cut clean through and take the man's head, causing the God to drop the bomb before he could ever be aware of what was happening. As Jackal would merrily streak by while air surfing on a jetfighter.

Can only do this one at a time. And there's still some bombs left.

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#18 Posted by Super_Sayian_Beyonder (1861 posts) - - Show Bio
No Caption Provided

Yivo ambulated along the streets, right in the middle of the road, this tall monstrous horror, took sizably voluminous strides as he ambulated, his shoulders slouched as he dragged his long two limbs across the street, not genuinely caring for his surroundings, shouting, and other such appeared to be going on, however he simply shrugged at his surroundings, limpidly hopelessly perplexed, cerebrations appeared to his mind, points of interest and so on. However Yivo could not avail but get frustrated by this fact as he has no clue what is currently going on, nor what events are currently taking place, this noetic conception only perpetuated to bother Yivo, until the behemoth was at a halt, he was baffled by his own noetic conceptions and frustration, discombobulated to why he genuinely cares whats going on, limpidly his humanity is destitute, if any. Yivo being a brute that he is, not only halted, but his maw opened quite wide, confounded, his brows gradually furrowing anon after, as the frustration anon turned into rage, he only let out a single word during this whole introverted event. "Huh?"

The behemoth of a figure, only became enraged by this sudden gush of emotions and unneeded phrenic conceptions, as he believes it is a waste of time yet he is still complementing such, the figure could only bow his head downwards, taking upon a widened stance, as his nerves commenced to 'pop'-out, his veins bulging throughout his entire humanoid visage, Yivo withal felt like this rage was unneeded, but that thought only made him want to relinquish it, the figure would simply inhale a substantial amount of air, to the point where it was visible and audible, Yivo was simply about to unleash his wrath in a 'audible' form...

No Caption Provided

"WAAAAAAAAH!" The brute, blasted out in a scream, no, a mighty roar, surpassing that of a lion's vigorous roar, as his shout could be aurally perceived throughout the whole city, as his veins began to fade, remaining only in his neck and his head no longer pointed downwards, whilst he yelled his gestured his head towards the sky doing so without hesitating, this shout imbued with nothing, but rage, may be sensed by others, however to Yivo he was just relinquishing some steam, commensurable to a baby throwing a fit over something so minute, to others this would probably seem homogeneous to something else, as no one could imagine someone was 'screaming' this loud, simply to relinquish some steam, Yivo did so effortlessly as he found his phrenic conceptions to be contempt.

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#20 Edited by Ultra_Girl_ (3507 posts) - - Show Bio

@shot@maverick_6@mr_hastings: As things went down Ultra Girl finally responded in a whisper "He's stalling, I'm going to assume I have the green light based on your previous action" with no other word said she took a super sonic dash in front of Bradshaw but did it at an angle which would not launch him from the force of a soon following shock-wave.

Dust kicked up which formed a natural cloud of concealment for Bradshaw as the Queen entered a defensive stance in front of her companion "I believe we have not yet introduced each other Sir Hastings" Ultra Girl's sword of Solus became invisible to the naked eye as UG used MS Invisible Air which would give her melee weapon Solus extended cutting range beyond normal means.

Twelve super sonic slashes both horizontally and vertically launched out towards Hastings but while the attacks could have been launched quicker the Queen purposely did them at a slower velocity in hopes that Hastings would attempt to withstand the attack rather than evade or intercept it, the Queen's strength in combat relied not upon being physically superior to her foes but to her sword Solus being able to penetrate virtually anything including Skyfather tier materials.

"I am Ultra Girl" she gave a curt nod after her attempted attack and prepared for a counter attack by raising her sword back on guard for deflecting or blocking.

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#21 Edited by XxHEROxX (416 posts) - - Show Bio

@dreadpool10

No Caption Provided

Syntenil watching the news of what's happening in Manhattan, decides to make his debut seeing these pillars being planted in the waters. He figures it's some kind of bomb, and begins to go towards them. Only to encounter nGods which he displays his own fighting skills blasting them with heat vision, and clearing a pillar which he grabbed and flew into space tossing it towards the sun. Recharging from the impacts of the battle it took to retrieve one pillar. Then diving back down towards the action to repeat the process.

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#22 Posted by Maverick_6 (10434 posts) - - Show Bio

@turncoat: @ultra_girl_: @shot

Bradshaw didn't seem to flinch from ultra-girl's movements at. Indeed, Hastings cutting the grenade caused a purely mechanical explosion, devoid of fire and devoid of light, to erupt. From where he stood, dust got kicked up and cars flipped into the air. But the blast only washed over him. Dust moved further as he looked in Hasting's general direction.

And then he was gone from Ultra Girl's side. Observing his ally attacking his opponent. The metaflex in his suit, deflecting any kind of scanner and most EM waves outside of visible light away from all places except his helmet.

(Bradshaw) "So, by looking at him, how durable would you say he is?"

(Shadow Company Trooper) "He is made of the stuff of gods. Would probably best to hit with kinetic bombardment, if it didn't take so god-damn long."

(Bradshaw) "And he absorbs EM energy."

Armor lock engaged. Initiating recoil dampening mechanism. Anchoring hardsuit.

He takes aim at the man, his Mastiff rifle in hand,small subtext appearing in the corner of his eye and Ultra Girl, unlike to be harmed, he fired a soundless, invisible round from his. A solid, two pound shaped charged that used nanoexplosives.

Said invisible grenade, should it impact from behind him, would immediately propel a superplastic at massively hypersonic speeds. Said grenade would hit with force excessively more than an artillery round and focused on a concentrated area. An impact of having an energy on par with roughly 7 gigajoules, it had well enough energy to send Hasting's 30 Ton Mass down through twelve feet of concrete and beyond. Or otherwise? Send Hastings through barreling through multiple buildings at a time some many kilometers away at speeds of nearly mach two. The round lacked capacity to penetrate Adamantium and it's affiliates. But otherwise, the projectile the explosion propelled would give Hastings otherwise a high degree of blunt force.. Had Hastings not weighed nearly as much as a Main battle tank, it would have sent much lighter superbeings much farther if not outright have mulched anyone with it's abruptly sharp impact. Few beings could survive the projectile penetrating them, let alone the impact. But he was sure Hastings could take an impact that'd rip a skyscraper in two.

He dropped down from the rooftop, oddly walking not next to ultra-girl but next to Shot, allowing him to be in the way, as he continued to goad him on.

"You weren't asking? Alright. Well, be nice and I'll cut you a deal. Say "pretty please with a cherry on top"his voice abruptly takign a high pitched, girlish tone. "And I'll try and pencil you in for ten months from now."

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#23 Posted by Turncoat (259 posts) - - Show Bio

@mr_hastings: @shot: @mr_hastings: @maverick_6: @ultra_girl_:

Turncoat's fingers brushed along the SS stitched onto the trench coat of his uniform as he observed the actions move. A grenade sliced in two with a beam from his fingers. The god managing to sense Krueger's presence. The arrival of the hulking mass of flesh and muscle. And the air around the street rattling like a bomb as the female lunged forwards with her blade striking out. With the odds being measured, this god would most likely either run or give it his all. Striking earlier than expected appeared to be more appropriate now. His fingers pulled from the stitch of his coat, rolling into a prepared fist as the platform fired down towards the concrete like a comet.

The Nazi's eyes gazed ahead towards the gold giant, looking him over like a cheetah looks for the slowest in the pack. The Red Son's grip loosened forming an energized discus in each hand, sharp to a razor point. Krueger's boots planted tightly onto the pavement, causing the ground around him to experience slight vibrations with every movement his arm made for the time being.

No Caption Provided

His arms fired ahead, throwing the halos at an almost rapid fired down the street sending them ahead slow enough that whatever the Maverick was doing could be resolved without aggrevation. The halos whirled ahead, splitting into three rows like a trident. Six down each sidewalk, a dozen down the roadway directly towards the nGod. Within only feet of leaving Krueger's grip, the disks on the sidewalk to the left of him shot to the side, blasting through a crowd of thirteen that had opted to press against the wall thinking they would be safe to view the engagement. Screams ruptured from the walkway through the two that had managed to not die instantly from getting sliced in half

A smile planted across Krueger's face upon hearing the cries from beside him, and the sight of the disks throwing innards and blood across the pavement. His throat pressed back, letting out a stifled laugh.Krueger's helmet provided adequate cover for disguising the disgusting sadistic grin he took from slaughtering Americans. In the past, those he worked with did not advocate or understand the purpose of doing those sorts of acts. Or perhaps lacking the mental superiority to comprehend the science of genetics. And if the newfound 'comrades' related to the...sensitive degenerates, he could be placed as a secondary target to this god. "These disks are very hard to control! No hard feelings, ja?"

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#24 Posted by Jungala (698 posts) - - Show Bio

The dreams had been getting...well, not worse, exactly. They were as unsettling as they had always been; now they were just happening with more frequency, sometimes even multiple times per night. They weren't identical, but they were similar: she was on some planet she could not recognize, wearing armor and wielding weapons that were likewise alien, and yet she wielded them as though they were extensions of her own limbs. There were other warriors there, strangers whose presence she never questioned while dreaming, who fought alongside her with a coordination that only a long and shared history on the battlefield could grant.

It was one of those dreams that had caused her to start awake in a cold sweat, only her own discipline keeping her from gasping. She simply sat for a long moment, breathing heavily as though from a powerful exertion, her head resting against her powerful arms. This had to have been the result of what the monsters at YOUgenics had done to her head, she surmised, and repeated her vow to visit some manner of bloody vengeance upon the organization.

She climbed up and out of the drainage culvert that she had made her home the previous night, thinking to dispel the remnants of her dream with a brisk walk. She was in a large human city, as large a one as she had ever seen, in fact large enough to encircle a massive park that was perfect for a jungle-bred alien to disappear in when necessary. Food, shelter, and garments were fairly easy to come by here, and it was as good a place as any to remain while she pondered her next move.

Until now. Shockwaves split the air and human civilians began screaming and fleeing in all directions, as godlike beings suddenly turned the metropolis into a battlefield. Rather than attempting to blend into the panicked crowd, or rushing into the fray, the alien amazon ducked into the nearest alley and used a fire escape (and her own prodigious strength) to quickly clamber to the top of a building to observe the cataclysmic fracas. Something about the conflict, or the titanically powerful beings who were fighting it, was triggering something vague in the depths of her mind...

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#25 Posted by Hound_of_War (3944 posts) - - Show Bio

@dreadpool10: @bulwark:

The White House

The camera rolled, Donn sat with the nation’s presidential bird in his background and his hands together like knots. Looking right at the camera, he pondered on the idea of a New York infested with powerful beings.

“My fellow Americans, it seems that every day there is a new threat attempting to destroy the way we live. At this very moment, fighting in happening in the streets of Manhattan between masked heroes, Maverick and the self-proclaimed New Gods. I say gods in quotation because these people are just like us. Humans, Mutants, Inhumans. They bleed and they will be held accountable for their actions.”

“To call them gods would be putting them above us. They are not. We will not bow before them and pray for their help. We will help ourselves and stop them now."

“I ask you to find shelter and stay clear of tall buildings, rest assured, help is on the way. The proper authorities will handle the situation thoroughly. To the masked heroes assisting with the situation, I ask you to concentrate on helping people. Thank you.”

Manhattan

The eyes of the Mechanic Bat lightened, to a dead blue sea of hollowness. His deal with the shadow figure had prepared him for this very moment. When they had previously attacked the Shogun and her nation, he did not have the chance to face the God of Gods personally.

No Caption Provided

Now, the Black Bat planned to make up for lost time. The claws strapped him inside the suit piece by piece. In a second, he was in the middle of the battlefield.

Amarth seemed to be fighting a kid. Julian chuckled, the thing he was about to face expected for the people to love him while at the same time he wanted to be feared. The man who was smart enough to make these crystals but too politically unsound to realize that he couldn’t have both.

With one of his missiles, he blew up one of the cars near the Superior God to get his attention away from the young hero and to warn him. He knew he wouldn’t listen, they never do.

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#26 Edited by deactivated-59c716930b8a6 (9227 posts) - - Show Bio

@bulwark: @hound_of_war:

Darnit kid...

Amarth sighed, fists clenched, his arms brought up to his sides as he adopted a combative stance. It was impossible not to be impressed by the youth's endurance and willingness to pursue what he perceived as heroism. Even with his rudimentary costume tattered and incinerated, he still desired to continue fighting the good fight!

Dark's muscles tensed with every wobbling step the boy took towards him, his mind at work to determine alternative ways to non-lethally incapacitate his opponent. Cupping his hands just as the youth approached, Dark let out a low gasp as a suddenly car detonated some ways below him, heat harmlessly grazing his skin. However, before he could even hope to discover the cause-

A suffering groan escaped him as a savage fist collided with his gut. His eyes were wide with agony, arms almost limp. For that brief instance, he couldn't draw a breath, as though the blow had reverberated throughout his innards. As another fist collided with his chin, he was hurled into the sky, glass shattering as he shot past them. Tearing through the air beyond the reach of the skyscrapers, Dark let out a maddened bellow as he difficulty seized control of his gravitational field once again. A ripple of pain surged through his very bones at his halted momentum, the first he'd ever experienced. Momentum had never been a problem, but given that the momentum hadn't been under his own power...

He drew in ragged breaths as he tightly clutched his chest, his hand moving down to feebly massage his aching stomach and gut area. He'd gone pale, his insides churning with nausea from the blow. It was a miracle he hadn't puked, but the effects of the blow were clear. He dropped a few feet out of the air every few seconds, just barely catching himself. An jagged aura transparently outlined his frame, flickering on and off.

Defeat drew nearer with every passing moment. He was nearly blind with anger at the deaths occurring within the ranks he'd brought to New York. His teeth bared, positively growling with rage as one by one, nGods fell. A wave of murderous instinct had started to wash over him, and as he howled into the parting clouds above him, his spiky hair rose like flame until it stood on end, his aura now fully distinct.

"NEW GODS," he bellowed at the top of his lungs, with an authority that resonated across Manhattan, "DETONATE THE PILLARS WHEREVER YOU STAND, FORGET THE HARBORS!"

And then he descended, flying down to the streets at a speed that erupted the sound barrier beyond him. His form shimmered as he simultaneously vibrated his molecular structure to achieve invisibility, burning eyes set upon the young, powerful boy who simply refused to back down. Within approximately 5 milliseconds, he would attempt to close any distance between them, though not to strike him. Not even to attack him at all.

To overshadow him. To enter the boy's body in a fashion similar to intangibility, and to dominate the body with his own quantum soul.

@maverick_6@jungala@turncoat@ultra_girl_@mr_hastings@super_sayian_beyonder@shot@great_samson@zaniel

Immediately following Amarth's order, the remaining nGods would hastily make their descents, slamming the remaining pillars into the concrete. Whatever the heroic forces planned to do in order to prevent further spread of Divus, now was the time to act.

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#27 Edited by Aristotle (890 posts) - - Show Bio

No Caption Provided

From several kilometers away Aristotle sat nested atop a rising skyscraper skeleton under the veil of a detection retardan cloak. Out of that camoflage stuck out an extended barrel of his weapon, pointed towards the main attraction in the street. He monitored the situation even through the curtain of buildings at the luxury of a futuristic VR augmented scope that relied not on visible light but on the all-encompassing background of cosmic microwave radiation that phased through all forms of tangible matter. The Super Soldier sat, motionless and wordless, until he noticed the slaughter in the street. (@turncoat)

Even in the face of such brutality, he did not averr this gaze from the scope nor remove his hand from the trigger. The seasoned operative was like unto stone in his statue-esque stance but then, a moment later, his other hand crept towards the communicator in his ear to voice his concern. «There are some civvies in the incursion zone. Permission to engage, Oracle?», all hopes on this little insubordination from the 'perfect' soldier were swept aside with the command's apathetic response.

«Negative.»

«I repeat: There are civilians on the battlefield, Oracle. They will...»

No Caption Provided

«Casualties of war, SPARTAN. Do not compromise your position. You're on overwatch protocol, your goal is to observe the nGod incursion for possible flaws in their force. Do not interfere. Have I made myself clear, 047?», the voice of the war-machine was clear as ice and twice as cold. The resolve of a Spartan should not waver in the face of any adversity. So he returned his hand back to contain the eventual recoil. Yet his sharp sight retreated itself from the weapon for a moment.

He was a machine, nothing but a cog. Bred cold-blooded and expendable. Another pawn in the perpetual game of strategy and conflict. That was his life, his duty but not theirs.

So Aristotle aim down again after this mild epiphany and held his breath to make his shot true.

*BLAAW!* *BLAAW!* and pause as the barrel of his weapon swerved towards one of the nGods about to arm it's bomb. *BLAAW!*

The first two projectiles shredded through the concrete jungle on a direct trajectory from the barrel of Aristotle's futuristic gauss rifle. Passing through buildings, windows, rows of streets and alleys in a blitz and targeting the two dismembered people on the pavement, to bring mortal mercy to their slow torture. Electromagnetically accelerated slugs overpenetrated through their heads and disappeared several dozen meters below the surface as did the third slug that embedded itself deep in the nGod's abdomen.

The High-Tech Crackshot pulled out a control display on his way to extraction, merely pushed one button and went on his way...

No Caption Provided

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#28 Posted by Trinity-Blue (4171 posts) - - Show Bio
No Caption Provided

Trinity Blue was never what any sufficiently informed being would call a savior. Behind those sky blue eyes and supermodel good looks she was first and foremost a weapon of destruction. Leaving the Imperium and associating with numerous persons of good repute hardly changed anything about that. Occasionally her actions proved inadvertently helpful to the greater good but she was already well marked as a collateral liability throughout various showings on Earth.

Issues between the Divus Deities and other Earthlings was beyond her, though not for any actual attempt at understanding on her part. When the skies parted with her arrival it signalled more than anything her seizing of a prime opportunity, her allegiance but for the fact of mutual enemies (and some, perhaps misguided, sense of making the one true goddess proud). Mostly the assault on New York meant she wouldn't have to hunt the false gods to their home in the sky; they'd come to her.

Initially indistinguishable from the crowd, The Destructor wasted no time making herself clear. Setting her eyes on one of the floating men she charged and sent him into the ground with a solid mach 5 punch to the back of his skull.

Leaving no time for recovery, she trailed him into the ground and planted his face in the crater. She held him there, palm pressed to the back of his skull, driving the fledgling Darkevius loyalist into the asphalt, and absorbing Divus radiation from his genes. A sample for her body's adaptive catalogue.

And then she crushed his skull. Standing, crimson ichor dripped from her hand like falling sap.

"What the hell?" She heard a man's voice say from several feet above. "That's not possible!"

There was the sound of quickly displaced air and Trinity dove from her spot, narrowly avoiding a projectile automobile. The attacker followed right away, pressuring her effortlessly through the walls of several structures and into the clear skies. Just as well she kept pace with his every strike, just out of the way when each sought its mark. And when the opening presented itself, she took hold and retaliated. One wrist. Spun him around. Then the other. For several moments she held him, straining, though with passing time each effort netted diminished effect. Eventually she barely registered his struggles at all; certainly nothing of consequence.

And just as before, she squeezed, and that which she held in her hands was reduced to gore and dust where blood and bone once existed. His screams filled her ears and Trinity cringed. Nuisance. She let him go, and he fell. His screaming intensified as he realized, somehow, he could no longer fly.

In most cases the unfortunate man would've been on the money. Even the Ancient's Daughter would've found difficulty breaking the bodies of Darkevius' deities as she did, were Nordok's greatest weapon not specially built and equipped. Aside from sampling the radiation used to grant the many ordinary men and women their powers, with sustained contact Trinity rewrote biological information. Mutations induced by Divus Radiation were undone, broken down and further mutated, in their cases shifted back into those of the average mortal man. Taking away their gifts, it was her "feck you" to the false gods, one and all. Salt in the wounds she intended to inflict.

But luckily (if it could be called that) he was not to perish just yet. A massive impact shook the ground. But with the fallen soldier of the divine, there was no satisfying thud-splat to mark the end of his screaming. No, he fell into the arms of a golden-haired savior who lowered him gently to the streets and set him down.

Several feet away, a frustrated and growling Trinity was pulling herself out of a hole. She looked around, briefly lost on what just happened, but set her eyes on the culprit in short order. Tall, statuesque, she was built not unlike Kelly prior to the loss of her powers. She even wore a similar smug grin.

"Fine." Trinity glared. Gravel rolled from her shoulders as she lifted into a hover. "You'll get it the worst."

The other's eyes flared and she responded with a smirk.

Shockwaves shook the air as the two girls rushed one another.

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#29 Edited by Shot (2987 posts) - - Show Bio

@maverick_6: @ultra_girl_:

The towering man stood along the instant crack of sound with a smile to accompany the explosions draft, it was only a soft greeting that whistles against his hair to Shot. Taking the full blow of the hazardous bombardment and wind scarring blade strikes, he calmly stood just a peak out of its radius. The baboon would quarrel his curiosity approaching the cavity on the street. Looking over the heated cliff-side of where the barrage of assaults landed, he would keep his self-confident demeanor “Hahahaha!-“ Then an oasis of bitter judgment warranted his eradication of the pearly white smirk. It would scald his thoughts trying to seek shelter from the worship of unnecessary death he just witnessed, but the disturbed wound would bore through his positive durability. His smile was gone.

@turncoat:

It was a killjoy of disc’s that bolted out, giving thirteen innocent victims the flash of their entire lives before the quick pitch of bladed demise greeted their souls. Shot always tried to accomplish the least amount of destruction and fighting as possible, but after seeing the display of dismembered children and families it would easily knot those ties and clog the flow of his tolerance. He was uneasy and quickly bulged out the obstruct of the happy man he always tried to represent. The scenery was tainted and sought the curative properties of vengeance to ease his sanity. More people were getting hurt as the bomb carriers began to plant the pillars by the command of a thunderous voice that crackled the buildings glass. Shot was measly just another colored cape in this useless meadow of heroes that barely made a change no matter how hard they fought for victory, It didn’t matter at all if the villains just stood back up again after defeat. He always tried to convince this to himself that this way of thinking is wrong, and would make him no better than the villains he fought. Here they were already staining the lives of others against the canvas of the street, eventually it would drive the celebrity hero to remove his jaunty method to hold back. That was the mercy that he gave in trying to let the villains stand back up again, now removed. The death around him made the happy man’s thoughts vulnerable, to have mercy was to also hold back what he’s always been thirsting for.

A trigger to let loose. The blood of the victims smeared across the lenses of his glasses and face painted the destruction to be viewed with a permanent tint of faultless departure. Blinding him in a blood lust that would earthquake the city in his incinerating punches. “Lets finish them-“ He would throw a punch towards the golden man (@mr_hastings:) not landing on anything, but the swift movement of his fist would create hurricane like winds strong enough to vaporize and ripple the concrete street as if it were water. “-Before” He threw another punch towards the Nazi butcher “The bombs” Another punch “Go off..” He would paint another fake smile on his face slightly crooked. Not a smile of happiness or mockery, but a smile of defeat trying to compose itself again.

A heart beat of anger would awake. He felt it, but it didn't worry him.

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#30 Edited by Bulwark (378 posts) - - Show Bio

@hound_of_war: @dreadpool10:

The punches connected satisfyingly, Conrad's mighty knuckles smarting from where they struck the nGod. Small craters at his feet marked the moment he'd delivered the blows, the intense feedback cracking the ground beneath him. Only now, though, did he feel exhaustion; he'd never exerted himself like this before. Hell, he'd practically never exerted himself at all. Despite all his great strength, or perhaps because of it, exercise was foreign to him. Using his power now, at maximum performance? It was beyond exhausting. He'd done his job, he was sure; he could hardly see his foe at all. He was defeated, he had to be. He let his focus drop, and immediately his senses blurred.

Nearby stood a man, he noticed, head spinning. A man dressed like something terrifying. Metal, jagged, angular; it stared into his soul. He caught his breath, stumbling slightly forward. That was no monster, it was just a man. He'd prove it. His eyes glowed white like those of the suit, atomic vision scanning the warrior's head.

Just a regular man, he thought, focusing on the pilot.

At that very moment, however, he heard Amarth's command to detonate the pillars, his attention snapping back to the Shadow of the Divines instantly. He blinked, straining, and his atomic vision petered out, replaced by the magnified sight he'd been using all along. It wasn't fast enough to save him, though, as Amarth descended faster than ever, turning intangible just as Conrad braced. The nGod was nowhere to be seen, but Conrad could already feel his limbs going numb.

No...no! he thought, a look of horror running over his face as he fell to a knee. He knew, somehow, exactly what was happening, and it was his worst nightmare brought to life. Having spent all his life restraining his great power, only for it to be used against others? And for him to be alive to watch, but powerless to do anything...it was like being in a dream, his motor functions already mostly taken over. He grimaced, mind consumed by fear.

Not like this, he thought, repeating it in his head like a mantra. Kneeling, he pressed a knuckle to the ground, legs almost beyond his control. He retained a fraction of control, his entire body going numb...but he focused on what he wanted to do, fighting with all his might to command his own body. Luminous blood dripped from his nose, the youth squinting as small bits of rubble began to float around where his hand touched the Earth.

"You're not getting...what you want...so easily," he said painfully with a scowl, blood dripping onto the street. He opened his glowing crimson eyes, looking with difficulty to the man who looked older than he ought to have been.

"When he comes back...and he will...it'll be up to you," he choked, eyes snapping shut as his brain burned.

He exhaled. The rocks rose, gathered up around his wrist; other bits were attracted to his feet and ankles, slowly drawn upwards as he pressed himself further into the Earth. The crater he stood in deepened slightly, the air itself dilating around his form; he opened his eyes, and they no longer glowed red. Without warning, he sprung upwards, the mightiest jump he'd ever performed drawing him away from where he stood. To those around, it would seem instantaneous, but to Conrad, it was in complete slow-motion, as if the world had stopped.

But something was different...this was no jump. He accelerated, windows shattering around him as sonic booms devastated Manhattan rooftops. He extended his legs, looking into the stratosphere, ripped clothes whipping about in the wind as he raised a fist skywards. He strained, halfway in control of his form, eyes widening as he shot higher, experiencing flight for the first time. Wind sheared beneath him, a cone of superheated air above; clouds parted in massive circles as he rose above the stratosphere, his form soaring higher than any plane could hope to make it. Half-conscious, he pushed harder, instinctively taking one last breath before he left the atmosphere, trying to buy time for those below.

I'll die up here, he thought...

...And I'll take you with me.
...And I'll take you with me.

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#31 Edited by Jungala (698 posts) - - Show Bio

@trinity-blue:

The battle had split into clusters of smaller conflicts, although the scale of the destruction had not been scaled back in the least. The beings who were attempting to plant their devices about the city were clearly unified in purpose, while the defenders each seemed to be there for reasons of their own, some for clearly personal reasons, others evidently out of some sense of duty or pure opportunism.

Jungala found her gaze being drawn to Trinity's part in the conflict. Subconsciously, she tried to dismiss the fact as one of rationality; the former Imperium warlord happening to fight on the streets below her vantage point, but the overwhelming feeling of deja vu and the odd buzzing at the back of her mind argued otherwise. It was as if Jun should somehow recognize her from somewhere...

As Trinity was blindsided by another attacker, the huntress made a snap decision. The combatants were clearly much stronger and much faster than she was; in fact, it seemed as though they may well be stronger and faster than anything she had ever encountered, but that simply meant that a means of equalization needed to be found, and there were few equalizers like the element of surprise. Darting to the corner of the seven-story edifice upon which she was perched, she tore a massive, granite gargoyle from the building's masonry and hurled the morbid missile at the nGod that was charging at the recovered Destructor. Not content to sit back and gauge the success of her initial assault, she leapt off the building after her projectile, reasoning that even an nGod might be affected by a seven-story dropkick.

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#33 Edited by Super_Sayian_Beyonder (1861 posts) - - Show Bio

The behemoth simply halted his rage, his ocular perceivers gazing upon the events occurring to him, however ostensibly a good time to strike, Yivo did not act, his simple not caring and lack of humanity only made him peregrinating, however Yivo figured it was better to run then to ambulate towards his destination, where-ever that was.

His stature only commenced to do long strides as he ran, utilizing force to project himself, cracks beneath his stride he took as his force was incrementing his celerity, his hands pointed rearwards as he ran, as he believed that was the correct/true way to run, however a invisible aura masked Yivo, evolution, as utilizing vigor to project himself was such an astronomically immense waste his body could not sanction such to transpire, Yivo could feel his back, as it commenced to crack and alter, his ocular perceivers would widen, virtually popping out, as this is the first time he is feeling such a sensation, nescient of his own abilities.

No Caption Provided

A lump would seem burst from the back of the red-behemoth, right in the middle of his back, gradually growing as the tissue composed, letting out unsettling noises and cracking as its bones and flesh became anew, this audible noise, and event taking place in his own body could be considered a grotesque travesty of reality, as this formation, adaptation, was an horrific abomination, as it composed with a sphere, its entire diameter marked with visible skulls, however at the top of the sphere sticking out from his back, very well affixed, was very tenebrous aperture, which ostensibly led to the abyss of the unknown. ((Noting the ball is probably as large as a NBA basketball))

"The power to create, and destroy! That is true-power!"

Yivo only basked in his pride as he let out, however this sudden feeling of emotion only annoyed him, as due to his lack of humanity, he is unable to understand the concept of emotion, he simply shook his head without any hesitation he simply brought upon a poker-face.

This incipient adaptation only led to his increment of simply that he was destitute, celerity, as he did his wide strides, a bluish flame would burst, popping out from the aperture of the sphere only to increase, this incipient spherical adaptation can be simply compared to a, 'rocket strapped to a person', as the flame busted out, incrementing his speed and withal how long his strides were, now utilizing less force in the ground, his head stretched out, as he let his two arms fly rearwards, his hands pointed out towards whatever was abaft him.

The figure's gaze let upon two other figures, witnessing a drop-kick towards his left, but not only this, straight ahead another figure, due to his unique appearance Yivo gave this figure a single moment of mental thought, not soon shrugging to himself, whilst he ran towards him, the beast simply rushing towards the figure, awaiting any action from either of the two visages near him, as he headed straight for the bluish figure.

@aristotle@jungala

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#34 Posted by Maverick_6 (10434 posts) - - Show Bio

The Mastiff was a powerful rifle, and he could aim it accurately to any target his eyes could fathom. Bradshaw lowered his gun, the shot a success in sending Adrian away, but ultimately, it served to as a distraction, Adrian's previous speed and his being all but unphased by the attack, alerting Bradshaw as to the combat pot's capability and durability.

What use would power be to him? He simply didn't have what it took to realistically harm Adrian. He was only human, and he couldn't invent anything on the fly to attempt to harm him or to use anything he did not currently have at his disposal. Yet, facing an enemy utterly alien, beyond the grasp of any ordinary man or who could obliterate him in a single blow? It did nothing to him but drive him further and commit more to honing execution to his plan. His weapon was discarded, with any number of his trick grenades kept in his protected pouches all about his armor. The result was functionally a loss of power, but an increase in his speed, mobility and skill. His grappling device was shot as he propelled himself through the air and quickly descended upon the air upon Adrian's return.

"You piece of shit!" He shouted as the New Age Nazi chewed through the crowd. And yet, there was little to nothing he could do but to dodge the disks himself in some failed attempt. He didn't look back, as the two behind him were mercy killed by an as of yet unknown sniper. "Make no fucking mistake. You're next."

No Caption Provided

"You trust me, right?" He asked her.

His feet planted against the ground, him sprinting near Ultra Girl as Hadrian intercepted projectiles as expected, the Maverick mutant hunter. His unncanny ability to predict his opponent's next movement at play, he tossed a meta-grenade by Ultra-Girl's side, moving with such force and speed as to snatch her off her feet. Her strength and durability didn't necessitate that she herself weighed a thousand pounds.. The bomb went off, distorting all visible light and electromagnetic signals in the area, leaving their location a discluttered mirage as all manner of visual perception contorted unpredictably all about the two. The grenade slinging gunman however, navigated off memory, and blew a nice hole in a sewer cap with his M1911 before jumping

"As for you Maverick dog-"

At this point in Adrian's sentence, Bradshaw was gone and Ultra-Girl with him, the entire movement taking less than seconds as he roared forth at speeds of Mach 5000, striking targets at speeds mortal eyes could not fathom. But all for not. Part of the sewer they were in collapsed, and slowly, Bradshaw pushed a rock off himself, rising from a pile of rubble caused by the perhaps blockbusting attacking. A majority of the damage able to be absorbed by twelve feet of concrete, sufficient to absorb side effects of the attack enough for him to survive.

"Can't have you getting got at the start, can we? I'm gonna need you with me in this one from the start. Can't really hurt him, but I have an idea."

Covert mental communication organized a set of fighters to converge on their position, each one maneuvering to swoop over it's designated set of targets.

No Caption Provided

As the aircraft roared, they passed by, and then they were followed by the sound of their leaving. A set of high explosive air to ground missiles set forth with superexplosive shaped charges, seeking to send and onslaught not to Hastings himself as a primary target, but to Shot, and the designated "Nazi-son-of-a-bitch." Targets were marked and the payloads struck with such force as to cause the earth to tremble from missiles with yields greater than most conventional ordinary, a single one proving capable of cracking multiple skyscrapers caught within it's range of hundreds of feet, into pieces. And they sent 3 of them. Two of them meant to empower shot with some hundreds of thousands of tons of force. High end gigajoules worth of kinetic energy. The other served simply as an attempt for vicious hammer the Nazi into the ground while scattering bots for several kilometers in all directions.

As just like that, the aircraft would disappear from sight, ever ready to be commanded once more when necessary.

He rose from the ground, taking in the entire situation, and the graveness of it. Yet, there was still yet to be a chance. "You know how fast he moves. Shot over there should be able to help. You're ready, right?"

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#35 Posted by Maverick_6 (10434 posts) - - Show Bio

Jackal

The jet roared through the air at speeds inaudible until it's passing. Maybe a few of them had reflexes easily enough to catch or outpace a fighter jet. But it didn't make the sound of it's approach any faster, or their senses any more alert. Not only this, but they were weighed down greatly by the bombs they carried. Good targets.

Bloodthirsty eyes, craving the blood that rested in the gods. He had forsaken his humanity for moments like this, for power. Much like how many of these so called "Gods" have. He had choosen, through his own means, to become an ultimately more powerful being. The cost mostly greater than these pinnacles of apparently perfection. "Sickening."

Being given power? What did you do for it? What are you doing with it? Right place, right time? Lucky, just like all the rest. You're no different. You're no better.

His visor came over his face, as it moved to scan them all, his blade wishing to go for the one New God that is the weakest, or at least, the one new god that was the weakest. The easiest and most ideal target. His blade vibrated at intense frequencies, moving back and forth, back and forth, millions of times a second.His eyes searched for the target, his heads up display causing targeting reticules to appear on the weakest parts of his target, as he ended him with one single solitary strike. Sending out intense waves on such a scale as for them to be be able to rend apart molecules themselves. And with such force from overrided muscle.

He jumped from the blade, and slashed through one, the blade skillfully angled and aimed to miss bone and glide seamlessly through the vertebrae. A single twitch of his wrist out of blade., and Jackal's cut would have failed utterly.

No Caption Provided

Blood exploded from the man's head, literally. The resonant mechanical waves heated and boiled the god's blood to the point that it turned to vapor, and the impact of the blade, in tandem with the resistance it met caused a window shattering explosion with it's passing. The cybernetic swordsman landing with as much agility as he had superhuman strength. His hand impacted the ground with such force as to leave his print, into it. Followed by his hand. And then his feet. And then his hand again. Repeatedly, he somersaulted down the street what looked to be dozens of times, before finally he came to a slow, screeching halt, with his claw-like hands buried in the pavement.

"You're not much better than the fucking mutants." Another diverted towards him, dropping the bomb in place, and flying towards Jackal arms out, fists forward at speed above that of any rifle bullet, akin to mach 4. But like a bullet, he was intercepted, Jackal accelerating forward instantly and sidekicking him in the face. The ground shook and dented beneath them.

*SNAP*

The impact of the New God's flying face first into the foot was thrown in just the right place, enough to break his neck, as Jackal grabbed him with his adhesive foot and slammed him into the ground. Before casually punting the man's body away, as if it were a can on the street. "You don't give people a choice. You force your ideals on others. You think you're balancing power, but you aren't. You aren't doing shit. You're just making the world more chaotic. We have it bad enough with an entire nation of mutants. Now you want to give people like that fucking clown powers? You're just taking our problems and amplifying them a hundred thousand fucking fold."

Another flies into him, Jackal's blade meeting her face.

Only for his blade to break. Snapping in two upon impact as the vibrations it were tuned to, in tandem with it's profuse use, caused it to snap.

Damn it.

He was taken into the air, by the neck, and his legs raised, flexibly, as he dropped kicked the god through a building. Landing the wall.

"I say, the solution isn't to make everyone gods. I say, it's to make everyone mortal. People aren't so humble when they can split boulders in two with their bare hands. Just cause." The god flew him once more, his fist aflame as he launched it towards him. Jackal, disappeared from his gaze, accelerating away with the man merely ten feet away, clotheslining him and wrapping him arm around her throat, grappling with the man as he took to the skies, and penetrated the atmosphere in moments.

The air thinned, and the cyborg swordsman whispered into her ear. "What did you do for your power, hm? I bled for my power. I fought before I had power, and I've been fighting things like you since I was a boy. Before I became like you. I earned it. You don't just give people power like nature seems to like. Nor do you give everyone a fucking gun like you're doing now. You need more control. Not less. You'll never make the world better, because you're stupid and you're wrong. Power doesn't make you or anyone else right. And I'm tired of everyone fucking thinking it does."

The blue skies parted, and the blackness of space was more apparent, yet air resistance also decreased, and her eyes widened as he got the choke hold on her, his musclulature crushing her windpipe with such strength as to be able to crush nearly any conventional material with his superior tensile strength and resistance to pressure. He didn't crush the windpipes. More, her arteries.

"You don't look so well. Look like you're fadin', even. You feel it? You're blacking out. You're feeling you're own mortality. You're being humbled, being beaten by someone weaker than you. Keep this little lesson in mind, dollface, cause it might be the last you learn."

She stops moving after ten seconds, and he holds it for thirty. Just to be sure, then he tosses her aside like a common doll to land elsewhere, likely at this speed and velocity somewhere in the Atlantic ocean. And the ocean. And he garner more and more speed. The air begins to hurt as he feels it heating up, thermal radiation bleeding into his nuclear resistant army and going into his body. Impact, shouldn't be too soon, at this point.

Maverick EOD

@trinity-blue@aristotle

Outside was a storm, and strikes were like thunder. Men rained from the sky, seeking to wreak their will upon all these denizens of the city, seeking to use non-lethal methods, many of these New Gods finding that the opposition is not so kind. They kept watching from the shadows as bombs dropped, and made some drop themselves. Ambient radio-chatter echoing all about the area. As the god's wreaked havoc with a rumble that rocked the heavens, mortal men watched and waited. They're minds locked on their objective, their mission. A simple one in vague description. Difficult in execution, requiring perfection and precision from men who got that way because they simply trained the hardest. And most anyone in the army who is any good at infantry, left for PMCs. Profits came from performance.

Radio chatter clumped together, when one observed every little channel.

"These guys don't let up." "They're really." "Bomb defused, package it." "We need to fly these things out!" "Too dangerous." "Hostile down! Repeat hostile down." "This one's a class 3three.Take him." "Wrapped and ready to go!" "Shit. This guy heard me." "CONTACT!" Screaming. Gunfire. Static. "Class four is on my ass. Someone blind him or blow him up. Something. Fuck."

No Caption Provided

One of them fell, and others followed suite in taking the shot, keeping up with the action through an immense surveillance Network. Whenever a bomb was dropped, the swarmed it and rushed to diffuse. Their acoustic rifles specifically tuned to destroy certain parts of the bomb as opposed to destroy the entire thing and risk blowing it up. Fragile circuitry and wires were destroyed as mechanical blast waves were carefully channeled through it at that materials resonant frequency, leaving everything else unharmed and the bomb still intact. Men with heavy exos and superhuman strength, possessed enough sufficient to move. All in a process that'd take 30 seconds. A minute and a half at best. Cloaking blankets the shadow company used were tossed over the objects, and unique visions designed to detect these bombs were blocked as they functionally disappeared from the EM spectrum. And they didn't exactly make much noise diffused.

"You have the shot?"

"Yeah. I got 'em."

"Take it."

*BOOM*

A 260 Kilojoule impact smacked the god in his face, carrying a purely kinetic payload courtesy of an Anti-Meta MAR 20mm that impacted with such force as to blow him back.into the concrete with a bullet in his chest. By the time he'd gotten up, the bomb was. But not all gods were born equal and many would require much more destructive forces to be beaten. People who were simply beyond them, or that they currently didn't know how to take down.

Bombs were planted all about the city, and having to go through bricks like this wasn't something they were designed to do in such a frail situation, with a restriction on the weapons they could carry and the abrupt nature of their appearance. To solve this on their own, would take time Maverick didn't have. And they all knew that the mission, to defuse these bombs and prevent further catastrophe would require the aid of forces outside themselves.

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#36 Posted by Turncoat (259 posts) - - Show Bio

@ultra_girl_: @shot: @mr_hastings: @maverick_6:

The events following the sudden murder of the American lives came in a rapid chain of events that followed. The behemoth of battlefield was the first of them to express their 'Sense of Justice' by launching a non-touching punch originally at the nGod, sending him across the street and through the concrete of the building ahead and by the sound of it through a few more, crumbling their foundations with every strike. And with the judgement of how the telepathic strikes had yet to scratch his armor, it was clear more was needed. Yet before Krueger could concept a way to effectively strike one of those very punches were careened into him.

The strike of the blow was effectively far worse than it looked. With just the force carried by the punch sending the Hellbreaker through layers of rebar and stone. From his point of view the buildings he went through was uncountable, but guessed to be three considering the state of his body once it landed. Fire, Pain, Dislocation effectively described every feeling upon landing. Almost instantaneously upon the pain setting onto him did his body begin to fix itself in following moments. His ribs pushed into place, his internal bleeding was halted, and the invisible flame shocking over his body died away. He wiped the eyes of the mask with a fingertip, rising to his feet and gazing around for a sign of the brute or the god. Only one of them showed a sign of appearing in a form of shadows onto the street.

Turncoat's eyes shifted to the sky ahead, where a mass of combat ready drones filled the sky and across the roadways, effectively locking them in by landbound means.

"You have very strange ways of talking but, no matter in the end I was just buying that one thing we all need. More.....time."

His words spoke somewhat true, as drones piled overhead of the Nazi like a brewing storm, time to further plan this out was the one thing that could be most needed.

Yet gaining time against these pawns would never pose a problem.

No Caption Provided

The Nazi's palms shot upwards as their mounted cannons sprayed down above him. Energy coursed over his hands, throwing up a dome around him taking the incoming strikes. The reinforced glass of the eyepieces flared blue as the forcefield held firm. He kept his gaze on the closest drones while dozens threadlike telepathically formed strands expanded from his shoulders and snaking into loose sections of concrete all around, small or large. Once in place, the threads expanded out, slicing the mounds of concrete right from the source.

The strands of energy slammed boulders of concrete across the drones until the droids had fallen or the concrete had been decimated. Those threads that faced their stone crumbling once again fired at the drones they attacked, wrapping themselves around the bots and flinging them into the blockades that held the exits shut to maximize damage against the nGod's own private forces.

At the mention of private forces, his sight perplexed on the sky. To see fighter jets racing overhead. Today these were an ordinary sight that posed no threat to him, but rather to the gods that brought hell to the city. Until one of the jets fired at him. It didn't simply do a running pass, this jet unleashed a missile towards him. Whether to it was to wipe the drones from the area or simply to wipe him from the area, it's direction was still set on him.

With only a wish for more time to form a plan, the Nazi relied on his counterpart, Soldat to solve the issue of a missile incoming on the force field.

The sapphire eyed Aryan woman appeared on the roadway with a blink, staring up at the fighter jet's incoming payload. With the very simple directive of "manipulate" she didn't need time to form her plan. Assuming it was on a proximity timer, if her interference was necessarily short the missile could be redirected away and maintain damage. With the plan in form, she was wrapped in a smaller personal forcefield of her own and blasted upwards at around Mach 5, shaking the ground below her and racing upwards to the missile in seconds. The plan she had formed would cost her a life, but life was of little matter in that current moment. With a speeding lunge, her forcefield broke down to leggings, keeping her afloat as she grabbed onto the side of the missile quickly descending onto the Last of the Nazi. Her silence stayed unbroken as her body used as much force as it could muster to push the rocket. Brackets appeared along the side of the missile, pressing several tons of sudden force against it to turn it low to a somewhat close high rising skyscraper. Her fingernails grew with energetic grips, as she hung onto the side of the redirected missile to ensure it struck near it's mark.

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#37 Edited by Shot (2987 posts) - - Show Bio

@mr_hastings: @maverick_6: @turncoat:

No Caption Provided

He stood angry and confused, where did his opponents and allies go? Thinking he might of accidently blown them away was a major probability. The assault that rushed his blood was short-lived as he stood in a desolate battlefield. It was no matter to him though, the real threat was the bombs that he saw the carriers begin to plant. He would head onwards towards the nearest sounds of deployment, it was his duty to protect the city in the theme of justice. However something caught his eye, smashes robots that were caught in his winds.. They weren’t there before. The question would be asked how does one bring justice to a nonstop wave of metal men? Shot stood astonished as the shadows of metal would curtain the sky above. The metal faces were angered that his fist took down a morsel of the army. Coming at him, flooding him, drowning him. The answer would be given..

"To scrap em!" The man believed with his simple tactic. With a jolly posture he would quarrel his strength against the oncoming waves of metal men. The battle would be defined as the mist of shrapnel would grow larger and larger. The metal men’s hits only empowered Shots barricading strength. As if they were rushing river, they were no match to his concrete dam. Each attacker a grain of sand on the beach, but what is a beach to the sandstorm that his muscles brought. An ant hill to a boot. The numbers did nothing but annoy him. However It would not be long until he realized it was useless. The numbers kept rising. It was then that he knew he was the one loosing. The entire time of dominating the battle, It would hit him, he was actually the rushing river, the lone ant, the grain of sand. They blocked him from pursuing the bombs with their infinitely repairing dam, what was he to the incalculable force. He was the single grain of sand compared to the ocean that he tried to deny. Their tides were merciless and continuously came. Drowning him and sending him downwards. Suffocating him with constant combat.

He was tired,but they just kept coming. His fist blew away towards the demise of crashing towards a lethal impact, but it was if he were just punching air. The vacuum would send it outwards but more air would just be replaced with more metal men. Their hits were helping but eventually they understood physical combat was not a viable option, leaving him with just his base strength. Shots efforts would rupture the city in earthquakes but the metal would only topple over each other and get back up again to fire energy beams at him. Trying to sear his skin, harassing him with their violent energies. To him it was just a slight disturbance but the sheer amount of energy attacks was like a sink hole. The more he moved and fought back the more they learned to just stay away and use ranged tactics. He needed more power, a burst that would awaken his full potential, and they would soon give it to him.

*Flexes*
*Flexes*

Then it happened.

Adding onto his own strength.

The missile impacted directly onto Shots chest. Where the metal bots would vaporize and shatter from the impact, the muscled man would stand still in the basking light harnessing its power. “POOOWER UUUP!” The bodacious man roared. The blast instantly overwhelmed Shots power gauge giving him all of its potential. His body cooking up the explosion inside of him as if it were unfinished. Heating up the raw yoke of its discharge as if it weren’t cooked enough. The maestro of muscle would flex, the energy swirling inside of his veins would vibrate from this immense possibility. The burst of power they gave him would be controlled by his fist, becoming over twenty times as powerful. It was then that he would reverse the tide.

That grain of sand was molded into a mighty vessel that broke through the oceans. Easily overpowering the waves would his newfound power. He would jump toward the golden automaton named Hastings. "How bout you get lost?" The energy swirling man commanded raising his fist in front of him contesting his strength against his. The man was not only just stronger, but faster too. Shot would thrust out a haymaker punch towards the robot. "Before I scrap you too!" No man would dare challenge him, but what he faced was a robot. Able to calculate threats and the possibility of winning. Shot would believe If the robot knew what was good for him It would retreat with its tail between its legs.

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#39 Posted by deactivated-59c716930b8a6 (9227 posts) - - Show Bio

@hound_of_war: @bulwark:

Drifting beyond the still, airless atmosphere, a jolt of revelation sprung to life within the Shadow of the Divines. Amarth alone knew the folly of the boy's play, given that outer space was of no consequence to him, but pity was not all that the nGod felt.

It was in the youth's moment of decisive sacrifice, that Amarth respected him above all his adversaries. Even above all of the heroes defending the earth. Whereas many others (himself included) would have been indecisive in such a decision, this youth - a mere boy - was willing to die for a noble cause. A quality to be revered in allies and adversaries alike.

"Well done, kid. Well done."

He could feel the boy's consciousness waning, could feel his own essence flooding into control. A luminescent aura emanated from the body like a fine mist, eyes flashing red as energy surged throughout. The body trembled, its visage impassive and eyes shut as the final vestiges of the youth's conscious were forced into the sealed recesses of the mind.

Suddenly, as though snuffed out like that of a flame, the aura existed no more. Dark's eyes - the now incandescent eyes of the boy - opened. And as a cold sneer crept onto his lips, Dark's abilities began to resonate with that of his host. The body was now his for the duration of time that he possessed it. I've won.

He chuckled, in a tone quite different than his own.

Then, holding his hands before him in examination, a cold laugh escaped him. And to think I had my doubts that this would work, he thought, positively clutching his head with mirth. You fought amazingly, kid, but your arms were too short to box with god. This ended the only way it could.

Gazing down upon the atmosphere, Amarth clenched his fists, exhilarated by the thought of displaying strength that host possessed upon those whom had shattered his patience and slaughtered his comrades. Placing two fingers to his temple, his form became a transparent shimmer, and in a blinding flash of light, he teleported himself back down to the streets of Manhattan...

"Now.... where was I?"

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#40 Posted by Trinity-Blue (4171 posts) - - Show Bio

@jungala:

Veritable gods in their newlymade forms, the false gods wielded unimaginable power. Trinity refused any acknowledgement of their claims to godly legitimacy but even she understood the threat the best of them could've posed on brute force alone. But for all their power nearly all of the Divus Warriors were new to the game. Short-lived as she was, the Destructor was built for power and trained to use it. It was her entire life from the time she was conscious. Further, she'd been designed with the greatest of Imperium science and dark magic for the very purpose of slaying gods.

And with her power over molecular structures, sheer versatility was ever on her side. The golden-haired bruisers exploded for one another but missed making contact. The nameless foe passed through a briefly incorporeal form and before she could completely register surprise a spinning elbow rocked her head leaving the Divus Deity with a sense of godly whiplash.

It was the intervention of Trinity's Imperium "sister" that gave her the chance to recover. The positional shift, while placing the godslayer in an advantageous position for the battle, left her also in place for Jungala's surprise attack. The gargoyle smashed harmlessly over her head and crumbled into dust. It didn't hurt, but it shifted Trinity's focus skyward long enough for her enemy to regain her senses. An uppercut then sent her instead speeding, face-first, into the defective weapon's aerial assault.

Up and back down she ping-ponged back into the streets, making a nearly identical crater meters away from the first.

She didn't take long to recover, but her pride had suffered two grievous wounds in a row. She re-emerged, blue eyes bearing a glint of crimson and ready to raze everything in sight.

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#41 Edited by Jungala (698 posts) - - Show Bio

@trinity-blue:

Skazzak!

With combat adrenaline coursing through her veins, Jun mentally reverted to her most familiar tongue as she silently cursed her miscalculation. On more than one occasion, she had brought down an adult krythyk at full wing with a thrown spear, but Trinity and this nGod moved at speeds that even her genetically engineered reflexes struggled to compensate for. For the first time in a long time, she was fighting a battle in which she was physically outclassed.

As if to accentuate the point, her intended target took advantage of the momentary confusion and locked one of her arms around the alien amazon's neck, attempting to use her own superior strength to quickly eliminate this new arrival to the battlefield. Jun did not attempt to power her way out of the hold; rather, she demonstrated the truth of the observation that Trinity had already made about these new nGods' relative inexperience and quickly raised both feet before then kicking downwards violently. The pavement cracked beneath the impact of her feet, and the momentum allowed her to flip her enemy up and over her shoulder, driving the young deity onto her back on the street before bringing up her foot once more and driving it into the surprised nGod's face, actually causing her head to be driven through the street's asphalt.

It would not be enough to kill her enemy, of course, but it did stun her, giving Jungala a moment to catch her breath and plan her next move. Unfortunately, she had become so focused on the nGod that she was not watching for any reprisal from Trinity, who Jun should have realized might not realize that her being struck by the initial attack was an error. It was always possible, however, that this knowledge would not have made a difference, anyways.

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#42 Edited by Trinity-Blue (4171 posts) - - Show Bio

@jungala:

Her recovery wasn't long, but by the time Trinity re-emerged from the second crater Jungala had already engaged the target of her intended capture. Whether or not she'd come out on top, and regardless of the virtue of the fact she hadn't attempted to follow up, Trinity understood her as the one who'd assaulted her.

She took hardly a second to look at her but with the Destructor's speed of processing she needed less than half that to peer at the woman's biological make-up. Not only did she lack the tell-tale radiation that drenched the false gods; she was never even human to begin with. Not that it mattered. She'd struck Trinity twice – far more than enough for a death sentence.

Straight from her stance, she blitzed forth. Faster than the speed of sound but with a casual demeanor indicative of the minimal effort on her behalf; although a minimal effort for Trinity was still oft more than enough to shatter bones and send foes soaring. Closing in on her opponent she let her right shoulder snap forth ahead of the rest of her, intent on doing just that. The foe had to have some sort of heightened durability to avoid injuring herself when she struck either of the two. Trinity's first strike was little more than a test, though the results hardly mattered. With the next, she would break her.

Meanwhile she encased the false god in a telekinetic field, tight and constricting around her entire body, allowing absolutely nothing in terms of movement, leverage or resistance. That one had become the prize.

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#43 Edited by Jungala (698 posts) - - Show Bio

@trinity-blue:

It had been a very, very long time since Jungala had taken a hit of that magnitude. It came at such a speed that, even if she had seen it coming, it was unlikely she would have been able to avoid it. Jun was far faster than any human, but she was nowhere near that fast.

Fortunately, she was even more durable than any human, which was what kept her bones from shattering like glass when Trinity shoulder-checked her through the wall of the nearest building. The impact knocked the air from her lungs and left her with a spinning head, costing her several moments while she regained enough sense to push herself back to her feet, flinging aside bits of the masonry through which she'd made her unexpected entrance. Her body screamed in pain at the forced movement after taking such a hit, but she grit her teeth and pushed all thought of pain aside. Paine meant she still lived, and if she was going to continue to do so, she would need to keep moving.

She emerged from the building's new entrance just as Trinity finished sealing their mutual opponent in some kind of force barrier. So, there is more to this one than brute force. As she shook the dust from her eyes, she suddenly remembered why the Destructor had seemed so familiar, even from a distance.

"You..." she said, stepping forward cautiously, her every movement preparing her to dart in any direction. "From Eristes."

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#44 Posted by Trinity-Blue (4171 posts) - - Show Bio

@jungala:

"Eristes..."

Her head cocked left and she squinted, searching her memory banks for any frame of reference to the woman's keyword. The Destructor was from no planet, but there may have been some reason for the mistake. Stalled for several seconds, Trinity found no satisfaction.

"What?" she asked, though the question might well have been rhetorical. She started on in a slow stride, with no immediate offense, but no less menacing an expression or demeanor than she'd carried just before.

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#45 Posted by Jungala (698 posts) - - Show Bio

@trinity-blue:

"Eristes," Jun repeated, not advancing but standing her ground. It had been a brief encounter, and Trinity's attention had not been focused upon her at the time, so she could not bet terribly surprised that the reference did not appear to stick. "Battleworld. You spoke with little Vel about battling the Inevitable." Even if this worked, it still might end up being a bad idea. The exchange between Vel and Trinity had been somewhat...harsh. "You know what is out there. You know the Imperium."

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#46 Edited by Maverick_6 (10434 posts) - - Show Bio

@shot: @turncoat: @mr_hastings: @ultra_girl_:

Bradshaw

"Can't teach a lotta old dogs new tricks. But, you don't need all that many new tricks in the first place. And I know a lot of tricks."

Jets roared about, larger mass of atmospheric subsonic flight causing destructive ramifications from their huge size in combination with supersonic movement.

(Bradshaw) "The big guy absorbs kinetic energy. Keep hitting him with HE."

(Pilot) "Roger."

They appeared once more, the air thundering with another onslaught of missiles. The platoon unleashing payload upon payload towards shot, enourmous explosions with gigajoule yieleds and impact sufficient to wipe out every tree in forests hit harder than trains, blastwaves rattling the earth, and ripping through rubble. Cars got tossed around like toys if they were so unfortunate to be near the epicenter. Ears of many a man near-by went deaf. Men, women and children sat in the basement of office buildings, clutching themselves, their co-workers and their families, each strike coming close to compromising structural integrity of the area.

Bradshaw grimaced, as Shadow Company began to give reports of picking large amounts of acoustic activity from people clearing the area, struggling against the fast-paced fury of hypersonic clashes occurring all around the city.

Jackal

Back for more huh? Why can't you let me burn in piece? Huh.

The Supermaterial Cyborg fell from orbit, the heat of his velocity slowly slinking in through his armor, as he watched her approach. The so called god. Seemed that choking her out only knocked her out for a good minute before she was up and flying again, her air mobility proving to be her advantage, as the was little way for Jackal to dodge or otherwise maneuver in midair, he had no choice but to eat the full brunt of the impact. He punches and punches, and she doesn't fight back at all. Words come out. "Get the fuck off me." But the speeds at which they traveled at? Not exactly easy to hear when you moved faster than the sound coming out of her mouth. But, as Savage as his mind was, it still held that mind of an instinctive, impulsive tactician. His head looked down, and he saw where she was slamming him to.

So, that's your game uh? Slamming me into a park....prevent people from dyin' from the impact.

Jackal turns midair, struggling in her grip as he breaks it free, and then slugs it out with her, smashing his fist into her face and distancing her a bit as she gets blown back a bit, using her flight to resist being tossed. She eventually manages to fly into a bear huge around his waste, with Jackal soon to be the point of impact.

Oh ho, no ya don't.

His arms whipped around her neck, putting her in something of a supersonic guillotine. He looked at her, maneuvering and aiming towards the park as they fell. Blood begin to leave her head again, and she was out. He shifted and twirled in the air, as he set up for his coup de grace. Basically, what could be amounted to a surpersonic DDT into the ground.

The end result is the girl getting power slammed into the dirt with as an immense explosion echoes all about the park setting, a bit of the grass on fire a smoke emanates from the molten crater. His body twitches, and surges. The sensation of pain not nullified by his cybernetic body. Agony surged through every fiber of his being. His artificial bones cracked, and artificial blood beckoning pours all over his body. His head screamed and shouted in pain, rock against the inside of his skull as it was forced to recompose itself. To regenerate, and heal. But not all healing occurred in ways always quite right. Not every nerve cell set itself right where it was before.

It'd been a while since he'd felt like this.

No Caption Provided

Overriding Muscle Inhibitors

A sickening crunch was heard, as from the crater, he threw the Noble New God's body aside as if it were common trash. 20 GPa tensile strength muscles contracted with such forces as to exceed the chemical bonding energy of any known conventional material. Carbon nanotube composite muscle fibers, were amount the strongest, and before, his hands rended through steel and shattered the sound barrier. He knew not the limits of his strength, and he was rarely ever pushed now-a-days.

@trinity-blue: @jungala:

It was a rush. Rarely did he get such opportunity to truly go about and doing some good ol' god killing. Even for all his strength, many of them were still stronger than him. Some just plain stronger, faster and physically superior in every way. Jackal was trained a soldier. Designed to be a great equalizer, designed to fight metahumans and monsters with but another monster, created by the evils of this world, including one malevolent metahuman. In his own perception, however, as a warrior, he hardly fought for others. He fought to fight. For glory. These "gods" among men were just things he could kill because they're the ones perceived as the bad guys. They're the ones imposing their wills on others.

Amid the two's conversation, the conflict between them seems to settle, but another battle brews in it's place.

Jackal flies through the air after going through a few buildings as he flips and spirals through the air. First one flies forward with a punch that glides right past the cyborg's attuned ears, while his fist moves forward. The meta's own superior speed screws him, and it is the main attributing factor as he gets knocked out in one good punch from Jackal's own strength and him running into his own fist.

The next flies vengefully towards him, a minature gamma ray burst in hand as she lets off the lightspeed projectile towards the cyborg's face. Instant acceleration allows for his body to become a blow. He moves slower, at subsonic speeds with moderate efficiency as he waves under her fist and jerks her arm aside before she realizes what's even going on, as her death ray is forced towards her allies, obliterating them all outright as she saws straight through every building it goes through and the beam goes off into space.

Attempted Transmission:

(Shadow Company) "Jungle Woman is classified as class three based on observation. And the other one....class four.

(???) "Jackal. Do not engage. Class Four, potentially five being of mass destruction. Known being Do not engage. Repeat! Do not engage!"

Transmission failed.

No signal detected.

His ultra-sensitive skin feels how durable she is and what kind of genes she's rocking. How strong she might be. He experience and close quarters combat with countless metas and "muties". A hundred tons. Cute. Using his baseline strength, he rips her arms off, sweeps her off her feet as she falls to the ground and flexibly raises his heel to his face and axe kicking her head into a crater in the ground. Out cold. Shockwaves rippling all about as she's out cold.

All that power. And for what?

He punts her aside, the woman flying a 50 meters away to the other end of the street. Like kicking a can.

Glowing red eyes fell upon upon two new metas, cut off from Maverick's database due to any kind of implanted wireless tech being fried by the plasma sheath that ensnared him in his orbital drop. A singular sigh, as internal carbon fouling is released, a thick mist of carbon dioxide emanating from all about his body as he stares towards his targets with a blank, poker faced gaze that hid his sadomasochistic glee. The force of his muscles overtaxed exertion coming close to breaking his bones. He love it. It felt good.

He accelerates instantly, kicking a near-by car towards the sparsely dressed jungle woman at speeds of 50 miles per hour. After that? He was a blur, rushing forward and surpassing the car's speed midflight easily mid-flight, hitting two hundred miles per hour easily and aiming to throw a sound barrier shattering side kick at the end of his dash intending to blow the woman back into the building behind her some hundreds of meters. As well as garner bits about her physiology from contacting her.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything, you self righteous cunts!"

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#47 Posted by Bulwark (378 posts) - - Show Bio

@hound_of_war: @dreadpool10:

Nowhere

"Well done, kid...well done."

Conrad's eyes snapped open in an unrecognizable room, devoid of decor and illuminated only by a small hanging bulb. For the first time in his life, he felt weak, his strength exhausted; he squinted in the light, only to find his eyes didn't immediately adjust. He heard his nGod foe's mocking goodbye through the walls, ceiling, and floors, surrounded by a voice which emanated from everywhere yet came from nowhere all the same. He blinked, staring at the only discernible wall in the room. It was like a screen, displaying everything Amarth saw through Conrad's eyes. Desperate, he slugged the screen, only for his fist to crunch against it pitifully. Fighting back tears for the first time in his life, he dropped his arm loosely to his side, faced with a challenge he couldn't physically surmount.

Closing his eyes, he curled his hands into fists, standing with his eyes closed in the prison that was his mind. He took deep breaths, calmly. He opened his eyes, now dry once more.

"I've got you figured out," he began, exhaling as he realized the truth of it all. "You won't believe me at first. But once you hear what I've got to say, I know you'll come around. You'll finally get the reason you suck," he said, eyes narrowing.

"I reckon you could've planted those bombs anytime you wanted to. You could've done it without spectacle. Without opposition. But you just had to make sure people knew it was you, didn't you? And you wanted a fight, even if you couldn't tough it out in the end. There was no need to make a big deal out of it until your nukes, or canisters, or whatever...until they went off."

He rolled his knuckles.

"That's just it. It's not enough for people to like you, or even need you. You want them to worship you. No, you need it. That's why you call yourself a god. You couldn't bear to think for a moment that you weren't the center of the universe. That you could do something, that you could accomplish anything, without people knowing about it."

He took a step forward, throwing his fist back into the screen.

"You could've saved the world anytime you wanted to, Amarth. But it just had to be on your terms. To you, it's not enough to help people, because they might not be thankful. It's not enough to lend a hand, if people don't know it was you...and it's not even enough to exist unless people worship you as a god. That's the difference between you and me. We both have power, but you? You have to be needed."

He pulled his fist away, now bleeding. With his offhand, he drove another punch into the screen, cracks beginning to form in the middle. Blood ran down his hands.

"But even you aren't enough. That's why you wore the cape, right? You care about crafting an image. You're desperate for people to rely on you, so you try to play the hero. You tell yourself you're the good guy, but deep down, you know you're not. The good guy doesn't need a cape to do what he does. He doesn't need one to convince himself he's in the right."

He stepped back, glancing at his cut-up knuckles. He scowled, and reached down, digging his fingers into the flesh. He pulled, and it came away like paper, new skin underneath. But where there was once forearm, there was now blue sleeve. He kept pulling until the scraps faded away like leaves in the wind, his symbol back on his chest. A red cape hung behind him.

"I'm shocked you're even willing to take my body. People might not recognize you," he said, winding up for another blow. Krak. Pieces of the wall fell away.

"But like I said. You try to talk yourself into doing what you do. You convince yourself you're the good guy. But me? I know I am. You think that saving the world is a job for Darkevius Halliwell? No. Let me tell you, Dark," he said, throwing a final mighty blow into the barrier holding him back from his own body.

"It's a job for Conrad Kurtz."

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#48 Edited by Shot (2987 posts) - - Show Bio

@maverick_6: @mr_hastings:

The blitz of speed would impede the charging bull that was Shot. The magnitude that he would muster had the quarrel to fracture the skies above, but the calculating automaton would bewail against the heroic service. It would hamper the imbecile’s one single strike with the extent of one of the machines arm. The instant the bouldering fist connected with the amassed metal it would practically vaporize, unable to withstand the barbaric strength. Shot was astounded, surely his caroling winds was enough to bring the machine into its slumber, but the vociferous zeal of the enterprising robot chose to sacrifice one of its sides for a chance to scrounge up the death of the city defender. Quickly counter attacking, Shot could only react as the spear like hand would thrust forward, unable to move away as the metal beast held his ground with an imposing grip that matched his own.

Aligned in battle, they had become an infinite loop, pulling and pushing becoming a lemniscate of assaults that that wouldn’t move another. If they had been blunted punches, blow per blow their defiance would surely go nowhere, however the quiddity of the robot was superior and would greet Shot with his eventually demise. A blade, so simple. Shot would flex his left pec bolting out his brawn as a shield that would attend to hastings penetration. The vile sword began to slowly enter into the heroes flesh. The cancer digging in deeper and deeper, its force would crush his ribs. The absorption of the robots megaton strength and absurd damage was a bad mixture to Shots body. Creating a vent that aggressively streamed out Shots harvested energy straight out of his beating heart and out of the hole in his cavity.

No Caption Provided

However, in the nick of time more explosions had impacted onto the cacophony as the tip of the machines fingers went through the Grodds hide as if it had the consistency of viscous clay. The scalping surgical hand was drilling through the indestructible man. The wound streaming out his core energy would be amplified even further as the harvested rockets raised the tides of Shots spirit. Opening his mouth in awe, his mouth would glow with steaming energy that boiled inside, the kinnikkinnick essence was his muscle spirit begging to be released. Roaring winds that matched his strength would emanate from Shots heart repelling the bladed death. Smiling, he called out towards his opponent. “Get ready big fella!” Mocking him as if it were the robots sobriquet. The strength that raged was asking for a certain brawlhalla victory, like an audience cheering him on waiting for the moment to arrive. The moment..when you see it all before your eyes. Shots signature started with a defined omicron warcry that he would accompany with his bald head butt that would surely transdimensionalize the nGods body. The smoke would swirl as he yelled with his attack.

Good bye!

"OOOUYAAAA!"

After? He'd fall from the exhaustion and strain on his body.

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#50 Posted by Trinity-Blue (4171 posts) - - Show Bio

@maverick_6: @jungala:

"Aha..."

Trinity nodded her acknowledgement, wondering briefly what happened to Vel'aaru. But, just as she'd regarded Jungala in their first meeting, she considered the Illian for hardly any time at all before deeming her "inconsequential." Once again she focused solely on her predecessor and planted her foot. As if some surface recognition would s—

Whoosh!

The vehicle whizzed by her head, attracting the Destructor's attention just in time for her to turn and see the mechanical man follow suit. She surveyed him as a frozen photograph, stuck midair. Physical properties, internal and external, and direction of travel indicating intent. Twice he targeted the Illian's former companion, and thus he was no concern of hers.

Trinity pondered his words, however. He had interrupted, though his words indicated he was apologetic or otherwise a simpleton who had little idea what he was doing. But at least even the ignorant recognized her righteousness. Very well then. She smirked. Her shoulder rose and fell and, disregarding them with a shrug, she turned back to her captive, grabbing the frozen false goddess by the ankle. And from once moment to the next she vanished, hurled into far-off space for the Ancient's Daughter to retrieve later. But there were still more where that came from, and Trinity accepted it as her duty to end the disrespectful frauds.

In the next instant she too disappeared, leaving an uproar of asphalt in her wake.