Gods & Monsters - Open RPG

Asgard

“They’re coming.”

A waterfall of golden hair cascaded down the goddess’ shoulders, falling nearly to the small of her back in a glamour that evaded mortal confines. Garbs of emerald clung adoringly to her figure, whose contoured curves and sultry silhouette was desire itself made flesh. The goddess was incomprehensible in her visage; however, the beauty of her face and form was matched by the cruelty and ambition of her scheming heart.

The Enchantress looked up from the book in her hands, its pages full of stories of Asgard and the rest of the Nine Realms that were more or less true, to place her withering gaze on the man standing at the entrance to her chambers. Letting her crystal blue eyes linger on him for several moments, she turned her attention back to her reading as if he had never spoke.

“They’ve been 'coming' for months, Valdar,” she dismissed him before running her slender fingers tenderly through her golden hair.

The Godslayer’s eyes narrowed, his gaze moving from the Enchantress to the room’s window. Looking out at the city of Asgard, where the resident gods and goddesses went about their immortal lives, he couldn’t shake the feeling that had settled over him.

“I’ve fought in many wars, Amora. I have a sense about these things. They’re coming soon.”

Without shifting her focus, Amora arched a single eyebrow in a display of mild interest. Silence settled between them as she continued immersing herself in the book’s details, while Valdar waited patiently for a response. Just as he gave up on retaining her attention and began turning to find activities elsewhere, she gently closed the book while rising to stand at her full statuesque height.

“Then why keep them waiting,” she said with a cool calmness, the corners of her precious lips flickering upward in a smirk.

Striding with a feline grace toward her companion, she paused to hold his strong chin between her fingers, tilting his head downwards so that his eyes met hers.

“If it’s a war they want, it’s a war they shall have. I’ve grown tired of waiting.”

Placing a flirtatious kiss on his lips, the sorceress lifted both her hands upward as a veil of jade light enveloped both the Asgardians, before dissipating to reveal the empty space where they once stood.

The Hellfire Club, Malaga, Spain

“What are we doing here, Amora? This isn’t the home of the Liafadors.”

The gods stood before a palatial mansion, Spanish in its design and resting overlooking an endless stretch of the Mediterranean Sea. Every detail of the estate displayed a clear opulence, from the meticulous sculpting of the grounds to the ornate sculptures leading toward the imposing front entrance. The ambiance of wealth and power was unavoidable, while a more sinister nuance crept just under the surface.

“Do you take me for as big of a fool as you are, Valdar? I am well aware of where we are.”

She took several steps forward, running her fingers over the velvety petals of a red rose sprouting from the flora that decorated the mansion’s grounds. “I have no intentions of striking the first blow against the Liafadors. We must draw them to us,” she explained with an unsettling poise. Curling her fingers into a fist, the pristine rose turned to ash in a flare of emerald flames.

Turning her golden head over her shoulder, she looked back at Valdar with a wicked glee painted over the beauty of her face. Raising a hand, an aura of jade energy began searing the air around her with its scorching heat. In a single swift motion, she shot an open palm toward the mansion, the green energy projecting in her hand’s direction.

The blast’s impact sent a shockwave in a radius around the mansion, flattening grass and palms trees in its path and sending an earsplitting sound through the air for miles around. Shards of debris flew in every direction, while what hadn’t been instantly disintegrated in the magic energy’s heart was left to burn in a column of emerald fire. Ash fell like grim snow from the sky, painting the previously noble estate in a layer of slate despair. Most disturbingly was a fresh scent in the air, one faint but gut wrenching, one of the burnt flesh of those inside the mansion who had no time to save themselves from the Enchantress’ assault.

Watching the flickers of debris still burning in jade fall from the sky, Amora’s subtle smirk grew into a sadistic grin as she witnessed the results of her labor.

“Well, I would have rather just killed one of those Liafador brats, but that should still send the message. To Ziccarra and her Hellfire friends,” she chimed, wrapping a lithe arm around Valdar’s hulking frame while placing her other hand on his chest.

“Come, my love. We must return to Asgard to give Thor news of the Liafadors savage attack against us.”

Asgard

“Does thou's tongue speak true, Amora?” the voice of Thor rumbled through the massive throne room, which had been emptied except for the Thunder God, the Enchantress, and the Godslayer. The King of Asgard sat with grace on his throne, the High Seat his rightful inheritance after Odin’s death despite Amora’s brief seizure of its position.

“Of course, Thor. I would not lie under such circumstances,” she pressed with innocence, her silver tongue capable of enchantments just as powerful as her magic. “Valdar and I traveled to Midgard to reason with the Liafadors, to avoid this war entirely. But when we arrived, we found the mortals' army already amassed. The Liafadors and the Hellfire Club all prepared to march on the gates of Asgard at any moment. We barely managed to return to Asgard after being attacked by those dogs,” she spat, painting the image with expert verbal craftsmanship.

Thor fell silent, contemplation darkening his face as he considered her words. Looking up he spoke.

“If it is war they want, it is war they shall have. I’ll have our armies assembled immediately. This will be the last time any mortal tests the strength of Asgard.”

Sinister joy flooded the Enchantress face, her figure bowing faintly before leaving Thor to discuss war preparations with his advisors.

After navigating the expanse of the Imperial Palace, followed by Valdar, Amora sauntered into the golden sunlight pouring over the palace’s gardens. The light played with a heavenly glee within the golden strands of her hair as the goddess made her way to the heart of the garden, where she rested her divine figure on a stone bench that formed a square around a tree as magnificent and immortal as the city it lived within.

“What do we do now?” Valdar questioned, resting his Herculean frame against the tree’s trunk. “Should we not prepare ourselves for war as well? Undoubtedly Ziccarra, as well as Maya, will come with an insatiable desire for your blood,” he commented, weary of how the sorceress might respond.

“Now, Godslayer, we wait,” she granted him, closing her eyes in bliss as the sun hugged her flawless skin. Her laxness confused the warrior god, but he did not interrupt.

“You see Valdar, we have already done our part in this war. As we speak, Ziccarra and her family will discover the pile of ashes we left for them in Malaga, while Thor readies Asgard’s greatest warriors to avenge something that never happened. Ziccarra and the Hellfire Club will find themselves at our gates, where, with help from the Knightfalls if we’re lucky, the two armies will fight until every mortal—Liafador, Hellfire, and Knightfall—and every Asgardian is but a corpse in a sea of blood and death. Do you know what that will mean, my love?” she offered Valdar, knowing he would have already been lost in the writhing intentions of her words. Recognizing the pained expression on his face, she took his answer as a no.

“It means it will all be ours to take. Asgard will be weakened, with Thor either dead or exhausted enough for me to kill him myself. Midgard will be without its greatest champions, the Liafadors decimated and the Hellfire Club exterminated. All we do now is wait, Valdar. And when the dust is settled and every warrior has taken his last breath, we will take what is ours. Asgard will have its queen back, and wretched Midgard will have the queen it deserves.”

Rising from the bench, she moved with an ethereal grace stand under a branch hanging lower than the rest. Raising a hand, she picked a single golden apple among the dozens that would grow from the tree. As she dug her teeth into the succulent fruit, its juices dripping from her pillowy lips and down her chin, she could hear the sound of metal clanging against metal in the distance. Every warrior on Asgard would be preparing, gathering their finest armor and sharpening their proudest blades.

War was no longer coming. War had arrived. A war between two worlds.

Undisclosed Hellfire Club Location, Spain

“We extracted everything we needed from the mutant genesis, I am curious ma’am; how were you able to take her from STRIKE without anyone noticing?” It wasn’t his place to ask, nor was it Ziccarra’s responsibility to give him an answer, but to quell his mounting curiosity she responded.

“I am the goddess of illusions, that is all you need to know.” Her response vague and cryptic, but supplied him with the information he needed for now.

“See that the girl is returned without her memory, and unharmed” Ziccarra commanded flanked to the left and right by her Red Cardinals, there was hesitation mounting at the folds of his lips, which cause her to turn back in his direction once more. “W-we will need a subject for initial synthesis test, I’m sure you don’t want to synthesize these genetics with that of a human”. An eerie silence parted them, a silence that educated the doctor that he was not now dealing with “The Goddess” Prime Minister of Spain and champion to many, but to Ziccarra, The Red Cardinal, and former conqueror of Venezuela.

She carried a Mephistophelean demeanor, a contrast to the bearing that won her the Spanish throne. “Doctor…” she started, her English tainted by her thick Iberian inflection. “I have supplied you my blood to conduct your test, ensure that you execute these task with the utmost care and proficiency. I do not expect any mishaps. You can be replaced. You all can.” Her full pacific blue eyes dart back and forth to him and his entire team. After sharing brief eye contact with the head doctor, her athletic slim build vanished behind a massive steel door.

Madrid, Spain: The Eagle and the Crow

Following her meeting with the Hellfire Club, Ziccarra retired to the palace garden engaged in her daily yoga exercises. There was peace and tranquility; no one (other than Tassi) bothered her while she engaged in her activities. It was how she calmed herself, training body and soul to expunge negativity, to promote positive thinking; it kept her 44-year-old body at the height of health and welfare.

With her tropical pacific blue eyes shut, she took repetitive breaths unchallenged—that is until the innocuous chatter around her alerted her to a mounting situation. Without warning her eyes shot open to greet one of her cabinet members with a paralyzing gaze. “What can I do for you?” Ziccarra asked, doing her best to conceal irritation.

“Ma’am, about an hour ago we noticed movement from Asgard, which is still positioned over the skies of the United States. Shortly after the movement, the Hellfire Club Spanish chapter was destroyed.” Her eyes darted towards the forever-green lawn, before turning back in his direction. She wasn’t mad; she didn’t want to appear mad, as a matter of fact she felt marvelous. She knew exactly whom the culprit was, and now she was presented with a reason to launch an attack.

“Now the readings from Asgard are off the chart, I believe we are now at war.” He advised, watching as Ziccarra’s calm and collected form turned more or less nonchalant.

“Alert Zeon, my husband. Isis, Leonel, Leonardo and of course Valerie Huntington.” She replied, her voice not booming past her typical decibel. Usually, it was the families Matriarch, Zeon; who brought the family together to wage war; however this wasn’t a “Family” issue per se, it was now a hellfire issue, which gave Ziccarra the power over the select members of her family that made up the “Red Kingdom”—to include Zeon.

Unknown to the public, Ziccarra and the White Queen had long planned to invade Asgard in direct retaliation for Amora’s actions against Maya just a year before. After brokering a deal with U.S President, Thomas Animus, and The HELLFIRE CLUB prepared to retaliate under command of the Hellfire Club’s Red Court, Lead by The Red Queen Ziccarra Liafador.

Rising to full form in a black tank top- and yoga pants, the modern day Athena, spun in pirouette fashion before transforming into “The Goddess”.

She wasn’t going to wait, she didn’t see a need to, Ziccarra was a woman that could go toe to toe with the mightiest of armies, and return unscathed. She could pressurize coal into raw diamonds, and shatter asteroids with a single blow. In her arrogance however the Red Queen forgot about her “Achilles heel.”

Asgard- Skies over Kansas

Soaring through the Kansas skies with Asgard in faint view, the battle ready Cardinal Goddess sought to bring the wrath of Cert, and burn everything above Midgard. Pulling her vibration-absorbing shield backwards, she launched it forward, charged with her explosive psionic energy. Marking the first Liafador response to the Asgardian attack.

Liafador Palace Madrid, Spain

Subtle rays of morning light filtered through the emerald waterfall that made up Leonard’s curtains. There wasn’t a day that went by where the Liafador Legacy hadn’t worked on completing his room, customizing it to his need for flair and absolute opulence. Those things were petty things to him, before arriving and living with his kin, however now he found himself adorning his things with a touch of personality. Leonardo lie snoring, a tank top and boxers on his muscled form, a silver Yoga 3 Pro laptop sitting opened on his sheets, on its screen rather lewd material.

His door swung open, and in that moment the young teenager sat up wearily in response. With the recent attacks on the family, he couldn’t afford to sleep heavily as he would like. Fortunately the glowing teal tint in his eyes brought on upon the focusing of his optical energy emission prowess was unneeded, for it was simply one of the staff entering his room. “ The Prime Minister’s sent you a message sir.”

House of Jade, Somewhere in Barcelona

Around him, members of the Emerald Cardinals stood eyeing the legacy. Rather than the trademark vibrant green clothing, they wore three-piece suits to masquerade as simple businessmen affiliated with the Liafadors. Leonard knew this day would be coming, when the group of cardinals loyal to the family, tasked with raising him in secret, would come back to him, where he would claim leadership of the group. For 15 years they taught him their ways, their lifestyle, giving him a culturally enriched life, and instructing him in their warrior craft, all the while keeping him hidden from the rest of the world, or at the very least, concealing his last name. For what reason? He hadn’t known himself, however Leonard considered it a trivial matter at this point. For now, his main focus was defending his family against armies of asgard.

“ It is time, that you muster your years of training and lead us. “ Spoke Martin, the one who spent the most time with the Liafador legacy and raised him personally when he could. His hair was peppered with flecks of grey, however his physical condition was on par with that of the best. Some members had their doubts, about a boy still in puberty leading them into battle; some worried he was merely leading them to their deaths. However most saw past the childish desires and antics Leonard enjoyed, and recognized the gifts bestowed upon him. For not only was his body augmented, but his mind, and along with it constant knowledge and amid that sea of knowledge, somewhere, was strategically genius waiting to be utilized. “I’m not certain if I can, but if I must, I will.”

Kansas

Leonardo flew, super-heated air particles of green coloration accompanying him as he soared, following his elder siblings lead. Behind him, dozens of emerald cardinals encased in a gravity field controlled by their leader trailed. Leonard wore a green suit of armor, no mask adorning his frame. His charming facial features showing visibly angered and ready. He would defend his family to the death, to his last breath, he, and his cardinals were at his sisters command.

@leonardo_liafador:

The Temporal Hound had been investigating Asgard on and off since it had appeared and was lazily flying by while hidden in the time between seconds when he spotted family members of the woman he had offered aide to flying towards the city with the obvious intent of assaulting it.

I would be a poor ally if I failed to investigate and offer my assistance.

The Great Beast took flight again and soon trailed behind Leon and his forces. He kept himself hidden until they made landing and then alighted upon the ground just in front of the raging Liafador. He remained imperceptible until his landing was complete and then shifted back into the current time stream, suddenly appearing before the Liafador and his forces.

I offered my assistance to a relative of yours and now I see you flying towards this curious city with clear intent to assault it. I have also noticed the sudden spike in activity on the city and can surmise only that there is a war brewing between this city and your family. I offer my assistance in whatever capacity you find necessary.

The Temporal Hound was immense, truly grand in size and scope and its body practically rippled with power. As sensitive as Leon was he could perceive the creature existed on multiple planes at once and its armored hide was likely impervious to all but the most ridiculously powerful of blows.

-Thee Champion & The Azure Son/Leonel Pettis-

Towering over six feet, the New God walked. Cut from the most greatest gem was a physique sculpted and shaped to be the superior of every Western god of war and strength. Ancient man told tales of Heracles bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders. Tales of modern men? They spoke of an icon, red and blue, whose godhood was defined not by his great power. But by his deeds, his great deeds of good. His ability to shape the world's landscape by striving, even in the face of adversity, to create a greater tomorrow for those who call the Earth their home. He was a pursuer of justice, and a defender of the innocent. A protector of the people. That was the foundation of his godhood. After all, as history has taught, some great deeds are even worshiped.

Striding forward, he was silent. Dark red cape draping from his shoulders and hanging an inch from his ankles. Boots, semi-armored, and of the same shade of red as his cape, held his feet. And his adornments, a dark azure in color, quasi-armored in fabric, hugged his frame. He walked, every pore of his body exuding an air of majestic might, of power. His features, archangelic and chiseled, were measured. His eyes, pools of mesmeric, deep blue, focused on the closed doors ahead as his soldiers, those of the Spanish Armed Forces he now commanded as Captain General, knelt in respect, overtaken by the New God's gravitas, and parted a path, their shoulders festooned by the 'S' he wore on his chest. Ever kindhearted, Thee Champion instructed them to rise. They did.

Spain was without threat at the moment, and its armed forces were to remain behind and protect it should danger come. In the United States' city of Kansas however, they would not be deployed. The New God's wife, Ziccarra, the nation's prime minister, authorized no such course of action. So gave no orders. Inching closer, he parted the doors open, and there he found his son, Leonel, in discussion with an elder statesman. Leonel's features were those of a golden boy. Their appeal was charming, yet his heart was of no charmer, but of a warrior whose ruthlessness and smothering approach knew little competition. His hair was a shade of raven, like his father's, and his eyes, a color of deep blue. And at six feet, three inches tall, he too towered over many men. And while his visage seemed to mirror that of his father's, his heart and soul was clearly his mother's. He was kind, but his fortitude and aggression on the battlefield was inherited from The Goddess.

He was clad in black, a jacket of leather, and a pair of jeans. On his jacket, was too his father's crest, the 'S' he wore proudly. Though whereas Thee Champion's was believed to mean 'Savior', Leonel's was believed to mean 'Strength'. Leonel met his father's gaze, smiled, winked, then vanished. Gone from Madrid, and seconds from arriving in Kansas to fight alongside his mother. The elder statesman, adorned in garbs that were militaristic, issued an inclination of the head in respect, and began. His voice was dignified, and his Basque accent thick. His countenance held a peculiar elegance. His cheekbones were high and pronounced, his face spoke of a bloodline of aristocracy, and his skin was pale, as if it did not react to the sun. His hair was receding, and graying, but he carried himself with pride. He wasted no time, did as Ziccarra asked and informed the New God of Asgard's invasion and Ziccarra's instructions. And like his son, he too, with vanished.

He was in the sky now. Soaring like an eagle across this expanse of clouds and blue. Then, then he darted like a bullet and accelerated. Inspiring the air into a rapid thermal expansion that came with a roar, earthen nature's most primal cry, a loud, sharp, crack; thunder. Behind him, a trail of sonic booms chased after him, while the air before him, flattened and compressed, grew red hot and enveloped him in a cone of scalding rubicund.

Still he accelerated, and his frame, speeding through the open sky, left the particles in the air excited with his kinetic energy, that around him they formed a mass of plasma, blue and bright, hot and powerful. Soon Kansas welcomed him and he decelerated, leaving behind a trail of burnt ozone. Beside his son and wife (@shanana), he landed. Ready to do battle with Asgard's forces.

-Santiago Porthos/Espada-

A butler, slender in build yet heavily bewhiskered entered to tell the Black Viper of an invasion by the divine. Slumped in a chair of red velvet, posture relaxed and feet resting gently atop a table of mahogany wood, Santiago's hands paused, no longer entertaining himself with solving one of many Rubik's Cubes he'd defeated, and his eyes of sapphire blue rested coolly on the sight of his butler. The Spaniard smiled a smile of overpowering social magnetism before the timbre of his voice, smooth and with the flair that forced his hearts to soar, echoed and he spoke. "What is it, Lewis? Tell me", he inquired, his Spanish inflection, romantic and exotic, hanging in the air with a presence that nearly felt tangible.

The butler, Lewis, nodded his head in compliance, and eased by Santiago's disposition of charismatic affability, stepped forward, arms folded behind his back with a regalia that was common among butlers of European heritage, and answered. "Well, sir", he cleared his voice with a cough, and the accented notes of a Londoner's voice cut through the atmosphere like a knife. "According to the news, Asgardian armed forces are waging war in Kansas", he paused, his steps guiding him to a neighboring table. Once there, his gloved hands reached for an idle remote and the grandiloquent Smart TV in a lounge of cultured swagger was turned on. The channel? CNN. The content? Images of war, destruction, and archaic gods of Norse mythology gone mad with violence.

"Hmm", the Black Viper's visage then grew pensive, chin resting between the touch of his right index finger and thumb, while his gaze rested on the television's images. "Oh.. this is unexpected", he remained calm before a smirk that was wicked and witty curled at the corners of his mouth, "But I do not know if I want to risk my well-being for Kansas, Lewis", he quipped, almost entertaining the thought of relaxing with a glass of whiskey, Johnnie Walker's Platinum Label, and leaving the troubles of Kansas to others. Lewis's expression was one of quiet disapproval, though he spoke no words. Santiago laughed, and rose to his feet, standing to his full height, "Tis a joke, my friend. Do not be such a somber figure", he advised in jest. "See that my daughter is prevented from leaving the house".

"If she hears of this, her curiosity will get the better of her", he instructed. "No it won't!", his daughter, Yana, seven years of age, grinned as she peeked from behind a neighboring sofa, her voice, sweet and laced with honey, seizing the atmosphere in a manner that only a child's voice could. Her golden curls, styled in a long ponytail, adorned her head, as her eyes of blue met her father's and from behind the sofa, she emerged with his weapon of choice, his spear, 'Venenoso'. "Yana...", Santiago sighed, then shook his head, a chuckle escaping his frame while Lewis held back his amusement with the austerity of an Englishman. "What?", she questioned, her voice innocent as she tossed her father the weapon with strength far beyond her years, "I brought it for you, papa", she batted her eyes sweetly, and cheekily.

Blowing a kiss in his daughter's direction, he bid her farewell, catching his eight foot long spear with grace, "Ciao, bella". Returning her father's air kiss with one of her own, Yana watched him vanish by means of teleportation before, with a grin dripping with mischief, meeting Lewis' disapproving visage. Emerging from a rift of vibrant violet, Santiago, armed with his most iconic weapon, roamed the streets of Kansas to engage those who sought to attack his world.

New Atlantis, the throne room

The throne room was silent as all stood, advisers, warriors, and nobles alike awaiting for their Emperor to usher his wise words.

Either proclaim that Atlantis would join the war and helping fend off the Asgard invasion, or rather, sit idle, and watch as the world above burned, safe in the depths of the ocean, unburned. There were multiple factor's in this war to consider, for the King, Liafador's, the Hellfire Club, but mostly importantly of all perhaps, his own alliances forged.

Spain was without immediate threat, and as such, its armed forces were to remain behind, many champions of Earth sought to defend it's world, one champion, in particular; Thee, champion. Had taken action, a smart and decisive action, which had set in motion a course of events, an action, that would turn the tables.

At first, it would appear the Liafador's were without an army. That would be wrong.

"Prepare for war," the aquatic emperor commanded, his stern eyes meeting each member of the room with certainty, his words nothing other than absolute in their resolve. "Asgard will be submerged, and shall suffer, for an attack on Spanish royalty, and ultimately the world, will not be tolerated. Their arrogance shall be met with a harsh reality; even the God's can bleed." He stood, his golden armor glistened in the light, his face as calm as usual, as his Trident was grasped tightly between green gloved fingers. "Alexis, known as Thee Champion requested our help; a link with Spain, our newfound alliance, would be worthless if such an offer was refused--" his Trident sparked before he created a golden portal within the throne room, an image appeared, one of the Kansas, and the impending battle, "and I shall not readily destroy such links, so ready our troop, for Atlantis goes to war...."

And with a mere nod to his military chief, King Archelaus stepped into the portal...

The battle; Kansas

...And appeared within Kansas.

His eyes, pacific blue, scanned the area and instantly found numerous champions, it was no surprise to see the likes of Alexis, his son, Ziccarra, and even surprisingly, the Black Viper himself, quite a collection of heroes.

Before suddenly, a purple portal appeared within the sky, and an armada of Atlantean warriors came from within the portal, dozens turned into hundreds, and hundreds turned into thousands of warriors, all imbued with the discipline and heart of the finest warrior, and trained to be the best they could, Atlantis had officially joined the fray.

"Attack."

A single order. An order that brought upon a chaotic boom of Atlantean roars, thousands of blood-thirsty, determined and professional warriors flew into the sky, brandishing ancient weapons imbued with magic, flying of their own accord like eagles towards Asgard, and others, flew upon majestic chariots, others flew in ginormous ships, seemingly like a sea vessel, yet flying through their air as smoothly as they would the ocean, firing round after round towards Asgard, bombarding it with simple explosive attacks and others, various magical based attacks, all to suppress the enemy, for hopefully, the thousands of troops ascending the skies and charging towards the mighty Asgard, would land upon the surface, and engage in hand-to-hand combat, seeking to slaughter and rampage the invading army.

Undisclosed location, Italy

Zeon stood alone in a large warehouse dressed in her Matriarch attar as her chestnut eyes scoured the building carefully. She was currently on a lead on the whereabouts of her traitorous father and it lead her here to Italy. Unfortunately, whoever was here, was long gone and it frustrated the White Cardinal leader. For months her father had been hiding from her and every time she felt as if he was in her reach, like a rat he would scurry away into another hiding hole. It was exhausting, and she had been neglecting some of her Matriarch duties, but at the same time, was her duty to protect her family from itself at times?

"Andiamo , non c'è niente qui a sinistra." <Let's go, there's nothing left here.> The Italian Cardinal spoke to one of her warriors as she let out a disappointing sigh, only to hear the soft ring of her cellphone go off. With a quick swipe of her finger she put the phone against her ear. "What is it?" Her harsh tone echoed through the dead end building as a frantic voice could be heard on the other end. Her eyes narrowed at the news, as she began slowly pacing back and forth. The Asgardians have declared war on Earth and have targeted the Hellfire Club. How dare those pathetic excuses of 'Gods' attack. This would not be tolerated. "I want a team Cardinals around the Piccina at all times, do you understand?" Her voice boomed with authority as she began giving orders to protect the smallest and most vulnerable Liafador/Pettis, Tassi. "If an Asgardian so much as breaths the same air as her, I want you to strike them down, understood? I want the rest of of the Cardinal's to meet me in Kansas." With that she hung up her phone as her small four group of White Cardinals stood before her, waiting for their orders.

With a wave of her right hand at the darkest corner of the warehouse the shadows began to become distorted as a small vortex like portal was opened within the darkness, a nice little ability that came from succeeding in The Pit. "Lasciamo a Kansas, ora ." <We leave for Kansas now.> she marched forward without hesitation as her Cardinals followed closely behind her, walking through the shadow portal that closed as soon as they passed through.

Kansas

Under the shadows that was caste upon the vast Asgardian army an exit portal was created as Zeon and her current four Cardinals stepped through. It would be a few moments before the rest of her White Cardinals made their approach to the battle, and without waiting for orders her eyes glossed over with darkness. Going down on one knee she placed the palms of her hands on the ground as shadows from every direction began to collect underneath her, rotating clockwise as the darkness began to crawl up her hands to her arms and around her body. Without a single word she then threw both hands forward as tendrils of darkness rushed towards the oncoming force without mercy.

The Liafador Matriarch has made herself known, and she was ready to kill herself a God.

New York

Cracking open the window of his limousine, William struck a match and lit his cigar. After taking a few puffs, he shook out the match and flicked it out the window. Inside the limousine were two of his most trusted advisers - both of whom were lycan. The flat-screen monitors within the limo showed several live news feeds of the developing situation in Kansas.

As William took a long drag from his cigar, he watched the screens intently. "You know..." he began. "This situation presents a most unique opportunity... As the face of Greystoke Industries, I will assure the people that my company will aid the nation in any way it can to defend against these attackers - thus furthering their support. As for the Asgardians, they possess a vast array of untapped materials, technology, and weaponry. Securing the Bifrost alone would..."

Just then the limousine pulled up to Greystoke Industries, where a large group of paparazzi and reporters had gathered. Turning to his two advisers, William said, "Assemble the pack. We move out within the hour." With that, William exited the vehicle and met the press head-on.

"What kind of tech has your company made to combat Asgardian magic?"

"Do you plan on exploiting the situation in Kansas to further your own company's agenda?"

"When will prototypes be ready?"

Turning to the crowds, William said in a firm voice, "Ladies and gentlemen of the press, there is a crisis going on in Kansas as we speak. Also, as we speak, my company is shipping weapons and supplies to our men and women of the Armed Forces. Additionally, we are sending in special aid to civilians who have become the collateral damage of this catastrophic event. That will be all."

With that, Greystoke left the press behind and entered Greystoke Industries. Reaching up to his ear and activating the ear piece, he issued specific instructions for the Pack - his group of highly trained immortals which accompanied him on certain missions throughout the decades. For this task, he selected fifty of his battle-hardened immortals. Others were put on standby.

As he made his way towards the top of the building, William entered his office and made his way over towards his desk. Placing the palm of his hand on a nearby console, he activated it and the office was then locked down and sealed off. The walls began to move and shift, revealing pieces of equipment and weapons caches. Finally, the floor itself opened up and the mantle of the Hunter rose up out of the ground.

In a matter of minutes, Greystoke dawned the mantle and prepared for battle. Taking select pieces of equipment for both stealth and assault capabilities, the Hunter entered a nearby private elevator which led to the roof. Once there, he listened closely for the approaching sound of a low-flying aircraft.

Crouching low to the ground, he then took out his magnetic grapple gun and prepared to initiate the sky hooking procedure. Like a predator about to pounce, William's muscles tensed as he readied himself for the jump. Once the aircraft was in position, the Hunter suddenly leaped into the air. His body rose nearly one hundred feet as the jet passed overhead. In the blink of an eye, he then fired off the grapple gun. As it made contact with the craft's hull, William's body was then whisked away...

Kansas Air Space

Inside the air craft, members of the Pack completed their final weapons checks and loaded special rounds into their magazines. Some of the rounds were 12-gauge slugs fitted with powerful electric charges meant to slow down and incapacitate their targets. Others contained a special cryogenic tip containing two chemicals. On contact, the two chemicals would bond especially well with any metal or organic surface they came into contact with. Due to the high potency of the chemicals, the rounds had to be put through a special short-barreled semi-auto shotgun to avoid risk of barrel damage.

As they neared the drop zone, the cargo door of the aircraft opened up and William stood to his feet. Securing his gear, he made his way to the opening and took a deep breath. With that, he dove head first out of the plane.

As his body sped towards the ground below, he could finely tuned hearing could hear the sounds of battle. From the blasts of energy weapons and gunfire, to the clanging of metal against metal, to the chaotic explosions in the distance... it was a world of which William was all too familiar.

Sharply twisting his body midair, the Greystoke Legend landed soundly in a crouched position - creating a crater as he landed on the ground below. As the smoke and dust cleared, the Hunter rose to his feet and raised his weapon. Several tremors could be heard as his kin landed in various positions nearby.

The tremors attracted the attention of a small detachment of four Einherjar who were in the area and they quickly came to investigate. Hiding behind a bit of debris, William watched as the Asgardians searched the area. As they drew nearer, the Hunter quietly raised his weapon and prepared to engage. He had to make sure of two things: first, then the targets would be exposed and in an area where cover was not readily available and, second, the targets would be in a position where all means of escape would be cut off.

Finally, the Einhenjar made their way towards the crater which William had created among the burning debris. The downward pitch of the ground gave him the advantage by boxing them in. In addition, there was still enough space for him to move around. Being trapped in a small enclosed space with four Asgardians would not be in William's favor unless he was truly transformed...

Suddenly, the Hunter sprang from cover and engaged the Einherjar. Leaping overhead, he fired five cryo rounds at the Asgardians below. Two of the targets were hit while the other two had managed to raise their shields in time to counter the attack. As for the two targets that were hit, one had a round impact his shoulder - immobilizing his arm. The other, however, was hit far more severely. A round struck him in the neck and he was gasping for air - completely helpless.

As the other two Einhernjar rushed towards him, the Hunter unloaded several more rounds in there direction - nearly emptying the clip. The highly skilled warriors managed to block the attack with their shields through, causing William to drop his Saiga 12 and draw both his sword and a large knife from his side.

Leaping overhead, the Cerebral Assassin landed behind the two rushing Einherjar and drove his sword through the back of one of them. The other then lunged forward with his blade just as William drew his sword from the corpse of the first. The powerful blade sliced through the body armor on William's arm and lacerated his arm. With that, the mighty warrior swung his sword and the Hunter raised his to strike it away. As Asgardian and Midgardian steel clashed, William's sword was shattered by the Asgardian's superior blade.

With no choice but to leap backwards, the Hunter evaded another of the Einherjar's powerful attacks. As the two of them circled each other, William's eyes began to glow and change to their feral yellow color. Carefully, he assessed his opponent and found his possible opening. As the Asgardian lifted his blade and swung it down, the Beast Incarnate rushed in, lifted his arm, and blocked the attack. With his other hand, he drove the knife up through the Asgardian's neck and up into his skull in one smooth motion.

As he dropped the corpse to the ground, he then picked up the sword which had shattered his own. The craftsmanship was unequaled and the sword itself was remarkably lightweight. Walking over towards the two downed Einherjar, the Hunter tested the blade as he quickly ended them both. He then looked up to see several of his kin nearby watching him. "Take what you can..." he said. "Kill any who oppose you."

With that, he and his immortals remained scattered - connected only by a telepathic link. Only a few remained close to the Lycan King. Together the immortals all moved towards the battle which lay ahead...

Kansas

A crack of thunder breaks through the airspace of the Sunflower State, heralding the violence that would soon be upon Midwestern America. Formerly bright skies grew dark, swirling ominously above the vast plains and small towns that saturated the land. Far above, deities schemed to wage war upon the planet, subtly manipulating entire generations of heroic champions. With a kiss, the war began, as legions of Asgardians descended from their world to our own. A veritable army of gods poured to the ground, brandishing blades of every size and shape. Giants rampaged across the area, laying waste to their surroundings with reckless abandon. The glee was evident in their cries, beady eyes scoping out the easiest targets to splatter across the ground.

The thunder grew more incessant, though there was no lightning in the sky.

Asgard rotated overhead, floating beautifully atop a ring of clouds. Ornate buildings lined the exterior of the mighty palace, an impenetrable fortress that stood tall above all the other buildings. Within each building was a contingent of warriors, guardsmen who had trained their entire lives for such an occasion. Spears reflected the dying sunlight, the yellow aura swallowed by the onset of clouds. Even Asgard was soon engulfed by black masses of cumulonimbus clouds, swirling over even the highest peaks of the city. Even the godly warriors fidgeted, perturbed by this development. Clouds over Asgard?

No lightning had struck, yet the thunder continued, announcing the presence of something far, far more deadly than electricity...

And it was then that the Asgardians realized that there had been no thunder in the first place. What their godly ears had picked up had not been the roar of electrical discharge, but rather the sonic boom generated by an approaching being, a king of kings. Even with their divine eyes, they did not see him until he was upon them, in all his terrible glory.

For the Exemplar had come.

The final airburst blasted across Asgard like a fanfare as the Lord of Light crashed directly through the outer wall, lightning crackling from his eyes. His dark Middle Eastern skin seemed to glow with deadly energy as he pulverized the battlements, crashing directly into the city itself. The wake caused by his hypersonic approach followed, a blast of wind that launched soldiers untouched by his arms into the sky, crunching to the ground. He continued along his flight path, passing around the vast city of the Æsir, flying nonchalantly through column and pillar as the stone foundations cracked. Lightning crackled from his massive hands, blazing burnt trails across the city as the winds generated by his flight shook the foundations. Finally, he came to a stop outside what he deemed to be the royal palace.

He had felt the change in atmospheric pressure, sensing it from thousands of miles away. He had been hovering over Jordan, contemplating the nature of the millions of men and women that lived below his booted feet. Eyes closed, he had considered bringing more rain to the fields full of farmers, saturating the land with water from the clouds. He had not yet begun his plan for those men, though. Bigger things awaited them. His curiosity had been piqued by the presence of a new landmass...one floating above the Midwestern United States. Then, he felt the airbursts, the sonic booms of at least three godlike beings flying across land and sea to meet them in combat. And finally, he saw the devastation Asgard would soon wreak across all of Kansas, and then, it was likely, the rest of the world.

Unacceptable.

He landed gently on both feet, but the immense gravitational field he carried with him caused the ground to crack. His Herculean arms were crossed upon his chest, brown eyes stone cold as he stared into the palace. A golden lightning bolt was emblazoned upon his black-suited form, symbolic of his ability to end fights before they even began. His lips parted into a sneer as he spoke one word, a word that radiated throughout the entire city.

"No."

The Eagles's Nest; Italy 24hrs ago

Completely motionless and in a perfect cross seated position of meditation sat the current patriarch of the latest lineage of Clan Aurelius. He seemed almost lifeless say for the sweat beads that slowly rolled down his brow and onto his stubbled chin. Centered within the alabaster room of reflection where his thoughts were focused on his gifts. The room amplified his abilities while silencing the outside world allowing him full access to these powers. The recent assault on his family's home was repelled and quelled immediately due to the swift action of the family and the fruits of their time training among each other. The victory was short lived as Dante, the clan leader, was bombarded by an alarming premonition. So, as his normal routine when something of great importance demanded his full attention, he sealed himself away to search for answers. Images tormented his psyche of things that may come, but were never certain as time and events were always changing.

Lost in his thoughts, he would see images of the Liafador House standing atop the bloodied and pierced carcasses of Asgardian gods as gray clouds stormed above them. While other predictions contradicted these, as sculptured forms dressed in odd attire stood among silver clouds with their fists raised high above them. Two possible outcomes that stemmed from many alternate paths. Either were possible, yet neither were certain. Either way, it was a grim future that could hold disastrous events to unfold. Dedicated to the lives of the many versus the lives of the few, the greater good must always be put ahead of everything except for family.

Dante knew this, and as much as it dismayed him, all thoughts implied that his flesh and blood assist the Liafador Family. His trust, however, was not required nor would he grant it to them. Rising from his serene concentration with a swift and powerful fist pummeling the ground in anger and intensified with his telekinetic talent. Crevasses cracked throughout the room as he took a calming breath in and walked to the family conference room where the rest of the Aurelius' had been patiently waiting.

"I apologize my lack of restraint for those of you that may have startled. We all know what's at stake here. Many lives will be caught in the crossfire of warriors and gods. They are a major concern of ours."

Pausing to take another deep breath and furrowing his brow he continued on with distaste,

"But the Asgardians pose the biggest threat as their targets remain in Kansas. So we must assist the Liafadors. Let's go."

Kansas; Now

Levitating his way downwards to the renown grassy fields of Kansas and family in tow, only now could he truly grasp the scope of what they were dealing with. It was orchestrated carnage if there was ever such a thing, and Dante couldn't help but feel simultaneously saddened and amazed by it. For a moment, doubt filled his mind, questioning his dedication to the greater good and whether he held the perseverance needed to fight living gods face to face.

A smirk creeped across his weary face as he pushed the thoughts away. With his clan beside and behind him, he held no fear nor reservations. He would uphold his duties appointed as the patriarch even if it would cost him his life. He quickly began placing psychic barriers around his mine for a sturdy protection from any unknown telepath adversaries, a lessoned learned the hard way by the Sector 11 manipulator of minds. Dante also mind linked the group within the psychic protection to keep constant communication flowing.

{Keep your wits, and don't let your guards down; Physically or mentally. Trust no one, but each other and remember our objectives. Kill the gods. Keep the chaos away from civilians. Help The liafadors, but do not give them your faith. We can do this.}

With his final words of motivation, he leaped from the dirt ground and into the air, readying dual metallic daggers that magnetized towards his palms. Prepared for war and ready for bloodshed, this event would be spoken in the halls of the Eagle's Nest for years to come.

Kansas now

Arthur followed behind Dante casting a defensive Aura across the Aurelius family safeguarding them from sight of the gods until they were ready to engage in combat. Then watching as the combat ready Aurelius run into combat, as Arthur began searching for injured or fallen either healing or reciting the last rites. If combat comes his way he's ready to stand his ground but until then the injured and dying are his first concern.

"May this heavenly light keep our faith in these dark times ahead!" says Arthur whilst illuminating a radiant spheres of light which drifted into the field.

THB (the human bullet)

The Hollywood Heros speedster THB sees over their global monitoring system a disturbance in Kansas and decides to zip down and see what he can do to assist. Upon arriving he notices all the carnage and gets to work clearing the streets of debris and relocating citizens to safer places. A small part until a moment of his other skills are required.

Enter The Eagle.

In her own time, she was the champion known simply as “Sha”, a woman who was just as likely to save the world; as she was to destroy it. She now found herself in a completely foreign world, a world where false gods and prophets intervened daily in the endeavors of the average human.

They knew no fear, for they had their champions, their saviors, and their gods. The first couple of days in this new world enlightened her to the status of humans. They were weak, unable to handle their own problems, fickle and worst of all in denial about their place in the world.

Initially the former Ninjan Queen had zero interest in meddling in the affairs of the world; however it was the titanic terrorist; Brahma Bull that coerced her to join his cause.

High above the American skies, the golden goddess flew, flanked to the left and right by ornery crows—crows that did not appreciate her presence.

She likened the filthy creatures to humans, appreciative only to the hand temporarily feeds them, but in turn relentlessly pillage the very same crop the hand worked so hard to cultivate.

She saw herself as the mighty Eagle, her natural pacific blue keen eyes symbolized perspicacity, courage, strength and immortality, She was a predator, a woman that didn’t need to pillage because people gave out of respect.

Since the start, she watched from nearly 300 feet away as the Asgardian armies prepared for war—against whom? She didn’t know, more than likely the result of otherworld politics. Almost on cue, the champions of this time arrived including the woman who bore her namesake, Ziccarra Liafador.

“This ought to be interesting,” She thought folding her hands across her tender breast, as always Ziccarra launched the first attack—a trait the both of them shared. In the brief moments following the Cardinal Goddess’ retaliation a full-scale assault on Asgard began.

Hundreds of armies, both private and organized began to fill the streets of the magical kingdom. So many of the so-called champions were engaged on Asgard, Sha began to wonder—just who was protecting the lands underneath?

Dropping in altitude, Sha watched as Asgard slowly began to dissipate from her immediate few, she had no interest in fighting a full fledge war in the magical kingdom rather exploit the failed planning on behalf of the hundreds fighting in the heavens above.

Her lackadaisical descent was not for nothing, She wanted the people in the small town to see her arrive, and she wanted them to bear witness to the iconic “S” embedded upon her breast. On this world it had many meanings, “Strength, Savior to name a few, on her world it meant one thing. “Sha”

As the selfish Ninjans onyx boots hit the ground, her hand immediately began to glimmer with the destructive intent. “Let’s see why you feel you have nothing to fear” She hissed, sending a ray of photon energy streamlining down a busy street. extracting fear from the hearts of the townsfolk

Kai Aurelius

Time seemed to flow as slowly as waters that surrounded his kingdom. Amusement was entirely lacking substance was the only thing available. Simply put, he was utterly bored. His kingdom was at peace, and at times lik this, with no battles to be fought, no war to be won, what was there to do? Just as Kai found himself ready to simply sleep until there was some hooligan stirring trouble, his messagers opened the doorways of his royal chambers.

Later:

The king of the western sea, built in shape to the likeness of Poseidon, a greek god, stood readily at the site of the battle. His father and ancestor already arrived. Around him his troops, poured into the city, their order to defend against the asgardians and above all protect the innocents. Today at-least , the liafadors and their allies would have the aurelius hand to help. Now the modern day perseus, with trident in hand stood ready, to combat anyone daring to harm or attack against his forces.

EbonyZephyr; Jax Knightfall

Earlier, Gothic

The azure adonis slept deeply as richard roamed around their massive household. The raven haired toddler was full of energy, and had kept his father up for nearly 2 days straight.And now he'd finally gotten an ounce of rest, giving up on trying to get the asgardian child to sleep and daring to leave him alone while he slumbered. Blinking sleep out of his hazel eyes he awoke and trotted downstairs. "If the house isn't burnt down then at the very least he's calmed." The Sapphire Thorn found muddied footprints littering the magnificent piece of architecture that was his home; on his ceiling, in the pantry, on the couch, even on the cookie jar, especially on the cookie jar.

He found every trace of his son, minus the knightfall child himself. After peering over the kitchen counter, his eyes fell upon the 2 year old. Sleeping on a mat with a half-eaten chocolate chip cookie still clutched in his hand, their dog lying next to him. However unpleasant he'd left the house, simply seeing his son warmed him. "This is in, I'm your new reporter shawntinqua mumbo and There's havoc all over Kansas! Some reportedly spotted the liafador-Pettis family, meanwhile other unkown warriors of sorts has appeared for some kind of battle!"

The azure @ss kicker, clad in his suit and equipped with his gadgets touched down upon the main area of fighting. He'd found out from a certain witch that was his mother that asgard was being attacked by the liafadors. He'd almost never trust the words that came out of the silver tounged she-devil's mouth, but he's witnessing the beginning of a large scale battle up close. Jax would defend his home to his very last breath, and if he'd need to combat the family of gods, he'd do so. For now he stood poised and anticipating, his suit was on stealth mode, allowing for him goto remain invisible to mere eyes. He'd find the weakest memeber of their army and take them out.

"Tension increases as in the state of Kansas a floating city had been spotted in the sky."

"War breaks out between gods in the no longer quiet state of Kansas."

The attack was quick, from seemingly nowhere. Enemeis who teleport in were often difficult to forsee, however, this wasn't the first time, and it wasn't the last time. News reports swarmed all over Greystroke industries and Maverick for answer to address this problem.

Maverick's response was as simple as it was quick.

"We are working in tandem with the united states armed forces to evacuate the surrounding area. We are unable to comment on this incident's correlation with the attack on Hawaii and recent string of events."

People asked questions, they wanted to know what was going on, all of what was happening, however, they weren't aware of motivation. Only who, what and where. That was all that would matter for now.

"How quickly is the evacuation going?" The CEO asked one of the heads of his tactical and strategetic command."

"Better than Hawaii. Vehicles have been sent with relief we with the national guard were able to evacuate most of the area before the major fighting had started. We're in the middle of gauging the amount of hostiles we're fighting, but the island has been identified as "Asgard." This brought no gasps of surprise or any moment of Astonishment. This was all like a Tuesday to them with recent events and invasions.

"So this time it's a bunch of "Gods" greasing the gears? Now we're complete. Aliens, demons and now, "Gods "have to come to try to get a piece of the action too....tactics?"

"Medieval or older tactics. The enemy may very well be capable of Gorilla warfare, but it seems open warfare and hand to hand combat is their speciality. Projectile weapons are spears and arrows, possibly enchanted. Many are wearing armor, that is also possibly enchanted. We suspect their durability class to even out to around 5 and 6. Numerous figures have appeared to combat the threat. One of them seemingly William Greystroke himself. The shadow company is currently in the process of marking allies. Judging from who we have their currently, we already have a serious offense so far, but are currently unaware of the extent to asgard's abilities. In the process of searching through mythos now and forming contingencies."

"Good. Casualties?"

"None on our side."

"I think it would be best we start to send a message to them. I am authorizing clearance to use the M.O.R.S. Put them under command of Commander Bradshaw."

Kansas

"You know people will talk a lot about us. About what we do." Bradshaw begins, speaking to his allies, his men. Former special forces, once Gothic-ites, former convicts, former army, former convicts, former police and even one Artificial intelligence (Prometheus) who was considered the black sheep of the group. He spoke to them all equally, all the same. All together.

"There are people who don't trust us. And they have a right to. I'm not going to say all of our hands are clean because we all know it isn't. But, right now, doesn't matter what people think, because our objective is to save people right now and to save as much as we can and we're gonna do it by doing what we do. As we speak the city is in the middle of an evacuation. As usual, up to us to actually put a good amount of effort into saving people. We'll be taking on priority targets, neutralizing them or drawing them away from populated areas....

Now, none of you would be here if you weren't up to this, if you didn't represent some of the best I've seen of what humanity had to offer. Now, let's go kill us some gods."

The sound of weapons being prepared was the universal reply.

Soon after the pod bay door opened, as Bradshaw was the first to step up to the edge. He looked down without fear into the storm ridden skies as he descended with the rest of his angels, falling from the heavens above to the hell that awaited them and the helpless people below.

The skies thundered unnaturally, and wrathful clouds summoned by the Examplar swallowed all of the light that had once shined upon the bloodied battlefield. Now, the city looked like a hell as armies fought and gathered.

Bradshaw split off from the group as he fearlessly dove below into the fight below head on, spotting a giant in his view some 243 Meters in height and pulled his shoot as he maneuvered himself, splitting off from the group as they all adjusted their landing locations accordingly. Bradshaw however, landed on the beasts shoulder, who didn't even truly notice the man who was not unlike an ant in comparison to the monster. Bradshaw revealed a sphere of about 11.5 inches in diameter as he threw it into the titan's ear and then retracted his parashoot to be used again later.

The giant notices the spec jumping off him and then landing in some alley, thinking nothing of it he returns to his casual stroll through the city streets, and Bradshaw looks towards him as he activates a detonator mentally.

The explosion of a ten ton nuclear bomb within the titan's head makes a thunderous noise as the entirity of his head is instantaneously vaporized, causing the roughly 33,000 ton creature to fall forward as the impact of his lifeless stumble causes the ground t violently shake as shockwaves send near by cars flying about, concrete cracks surging about crater created.

The man looks about alert for the rest of his group and for any who might be drawn to the investigate the corpse for potential for ambush. However, soon he hears the cries of terror. It was something the Maverick mutant hunter heeded with great haste as he made his way to the source of this.

@ziccarra_liafador

And there she was. It wasn't just the seemingly uncaring slaughter of weaker, defenseless people, it was the fact that he could simply look at her and tell that she was a living embodiment of everything he despised. Her nonchalant, carefree nature at how she harbored malevolent the town with her power. It was something that would cause his blood to boil.

As the light speed beam was fired, he seemingly was already in the way, his back towards the beam as it struck him at presumably lightspeed. As it ceased, Bradshaw released a small boy who looked upon the man in utter terror as smoke emanated from his armor and he'd just prevented him from wandering into the path of death. The boy ran.

"Tell me."

He had begun, his armor still holding up well as he picked up an extremly sniper that appeared on the ground from seemingly nowhere.

"Do gods bleed?"

The Maverick Artemis cackled with electricity as it seemingly revealed itself to be no ordinary weapon as it began to charge and vir. With many people having vacated the area, he seeks to fire the round to her as it ignites the air and moves at hypersonic speeds of Mach 15. His aim was true and he sought to allow the ground to impact her with what was in actuality somewhere in the race of 200 tons of force. He sought nothing less then to send her hurdling back quitethe distance and to crash within a building elsewhere.

After this he would discard the highly overheated weapon a few who observed commented, preparing for a potential retaliation.

"This is insane!"

"She's gonna reduce him to paste!"

"Have a bit of faith."

Elsewhere in Kansas....

The Military Corporation known as Maverick, gathered their forces to launch an assault. Their vast numbers meant they could both attack and defend. Little did the public know however, of the army of ageless organic automatons that soon would launch their attack directly on Asgard alongside forces of man and those who stood with man.

They die and they kill. They kill and they die. These face figures were known as the M.O.R.S.

Soaring in the cold dark space just above the earth Glacyr watches as the Asgard city descends from a portal. Knowing these gods fairly well as planets he's been in contact with often prayed to them. Deciding to go in for a closer look, he encases himself in a large iceberg which he guides towards city of Kansas where the Asgard city is lowering towards. Breaking through the stratosphere the berg melts rapidly until Glacyr is now free falling on his board which he soars towards the humans below.

Seeing as the humans have gathered Heros to battle the gods and army factions, Glacyr decided to play along for now and aide the Humans vs the Asgardians.

Madrid

"Isis, wake up!" The lilting cadence of Leta Esposito's voice pierced through the hazy dream state that Isis had found herself in. It was the first day in years that she'd slept past 5 AM and she was beginning to regret that choice just by the virtue of how she was being woken up.

Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she slowly sat up in bed, the soft Egyptian cotton sheet falling down around her waist and revealing the black silk camisole she wore as she did so. Her eyes narrowed in on Leta, and her entire disposition changed.

Leta stood moderately tall at 5'10" and she had a muscled physique that most would be envious of. Her russet brown hair complimented her golden bronze skin, and the riotous waves were almost always pinned back in some manner. Today, it had been left to fall loose around her shoulders, cascading almost down to her waist.

Normally the picture of statuesque beauty, her mouth was drawn tight and there was worry clear on her face. For somebody who carried themselves through life with a happy and exuberant demeanor, Isis needed no words to know that something was markedly wrong.

"What happened?" Isis swung her legs over the side of her bed and immediately stripped out of her clothes with no regard to modesty - there was none between friends as close as her and Leta.

"It's Asgard," Leta replied tentatively.

Isis' brow furrowed as she shot a look at her over the shoulder while approaching her room-sized closet. She was unused to the luxury that living at the palace afforded her, and barely a quarter of the closet was filled with clothing. The rest had been stocked with weapons and a special armory that had been built into the side of the wall. She knew that either Selene or Maya would have a heart attack if they'd seen what she'd done with it. "Asgard?"

"Asgard," Leta affirmed. "It's hovering in the skies over Kansas and they are prepared to launch an attack on Earth." The last was said with distaste and confusion, as if it left a bad taste in her mouth. "Maybe they deemed it enough of a non-entity that should they take over this realm, the loss of that state wouldn't matter. Your aunt is also reporting that they decimated the Malaga Hellfire Club chapter."

Isis' eyes narrowed slightly as she thought through the family tactics. This meant that her aunt would be taking lead over involvement, as she outranked Zeon in Hellfire Club-related matters. "Who's on scene already?"

Leta filled her in on the full roster as of now as she pulled on one of the specially equipped battle suits. Isis didn't have the godly genes that Ziccarra, Alexis, and their children were in possession of, but she had a unique anatomy of her own. As of yet, nobody had been able to figure it out. She wasn't mutant, she wasn't artificially enhanced, but by no means she was a baseline human.

She had enhanced stats that allowed her to tank blows that would kill a human immediately, but she was not entirely impervious to damage, as the welt scars across her back courtesy of Quintus Knightfall were evidence of. As such, the specially designed suit was a special weave alloy that absorbed large amounts of damage, protecting her from even more.

Gunmetal grey in color, the matte suit had a blood red undertone that would obscure the appearance of blood should she be wounded, hiding any weaknesses from her enemy.

"Did they fly there?" she asked as they moved through the palace to the hangar, having finished strapping on weapons and myriad other equipment.

Leta hesitated for a moment as she followed behind Isis. "...yes."

Isis almost growled. She didn't envy her family the moral burdens that they felt in conjunction to having such powers, but she did most certainly envy them the ability to travel so quickly. "Remind me to get a really really fast car and not let anybody drive it. Nice and red and shiny and pretty," she muttered under her breath.

Shooting a gaze over her shoulder, she saw Leta attempting to keep a straight face.

"Yeah, laugh it up, Leta. See if I let you hitch any rides in my sweet new car."

Kansas

"Remind me again why I let you pilot?" Isis grumbled as she sat in the co-pilot seat of the sleek little aircraft that had been designed by Leo and gifted to her as consolation for not being able to fly herself, and as something to bring her more into the family fold.

"Because whenever you fly or drive, anybody who's with you has to hang on for dear life and pray to any of the gods or goddesses that they believe in for the hopes of making it to their destination alive."

Isis scowled as she unbuckled herself from the passenger seat and began walking towards the back of the small aircraft. "That's a hyperbolic exaggeration..."

Leta chuckled. "That time we were on your motorcyle and you jumped it over the closing bridge?"

"Pffft, that was nothing," Isis scoffed.

"And that's my point, exactly," Leta muttered under her breath, before refocusing on the array in front of her. "Approaching combat space three minutes."

Leta got up from her seat and quickly strapped on the rest of her gear. Assorted weapons and devices were strapped throughout the sleek, streamlined gunmetal gray alloy weave suit, and she did one final run-through, including securing the dual blades across her back.

"One minute."

Isis walked towards the back and stood looking out one of the windows, taking in the scenes of complete and utter desolation that they were approaching. Clouds obscured what had only moments ago been the radient sun of a warm June day.

There was an ominous silence in the air, not at all unlike the calm before the storm. Chills ran across the back of Isis' neck as she looked over her shoulder to Leta, who was concentrating intently on her array and carrying them in safely. They were fully shielded. The shields would drop only long enough for Isis to exit, and then would be up once again, with Leta flying air support for any who should need it, working as an eye in the sky and point of contact over open channels.

What nobody else had been informed of was that there was also a payload aboard the ship, to be utilized as a last resort.

"Fifteen seconds."

If there was one place in the world that Isis was comfortable, it was a fight. She had spent the past two years being held against her will, tortured, and placed in gladiatoral fights. She hadn't viewed herself as being fit to be among anyone in public or pleasant company since. Her first reaction was still to assess everybody as an enemy, before the thought to do so had even crossed her mind.

Here...her palms itched with the thought of the fight ahead. Here she could let loose to her heart's content and not have a worry as to harming anybody she cared for. It would be a day to remember, she knew it to the marrow of her bones.

"Time."

Isis reached out and pushed her palm against the biometric scanner installed in the large craft. The back hatch opened and she leapt out. With no parachute and no other assistance, Isis plummetted headfirst. Tucking her arms in to her sides, she sped up her descent, using enhanced eyesight and extreme control of her body to aim for the piece of ground that she wanted.

Leo, Alexis, and Ziccarra stood fanned out together, preparing to enter the fray. Spreading her arms out to her side, Isis flipped in the air, her feet directed towards the hard ground of Kansas. 300 feet to go, and she slightly bent her knees, preparing for impact.

Within seconds, she was on the ground, landing on bent knee with an effortless grace. The Liafador Ravager had made her presence known.

Hazel eyes quickly took in the scene unfolding, computing tactics faster than a human mind could ever hope to process. She tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear, and back into the complex French braid that she had woven her nearly waist-length hair into in order to keep it free and clear of opponents.

"What's the situation?" She asked, approaching her three relatives from behind.

Donning the World's Wardens ballistic vest once more Arceus grabbed his M25 Sniper Rifle and jumped from the small passenger plane that was carrying him into the heart of Kansas. He had just a few days ago been attending an elaborate party in Gothic city, and now here he was, readying himself to defend yet another city under siege. Back to the routine. Well, almost. He'd never defended anyone from gods before.

As he fell through the now blackened skies he could hear the sounds of steel meeting steel, of flesh being rent from gods and men alike, and the accompanying screams such carnage elicited. As he cleared the layer of clouds that had obscured his view the sounds of battle gave way to the horrific sight of slaughter. Gods cleaved through conventional armor with ease, their speed and discipline in close quarters combat far surpassing anything that their human foes could muster, and man after man fell under divine steel. To their credit the Liafadors and their allies were no pushovers. They fought valiantly, skill and determination rivaled by few on Earth, but these gods had been forged in the bloody chaos of medieval warfare. They lived their lives on the field of battle, practically bathed in the blood of their foes, the smell of fresh crimson wafting from every ominous step they took toward the city.

It was ahead of these hardened, murderous dieties that Arceus chose to land. He donned no parachute, instead he braced himself as though he were jumping off a high ledge, bending his knees and preparing to curl the rest of his body into a roll as soon as he hit the ground. As soon as he made contact with asphalt he deployed a kinetic burst, its intent to negate the incredible amounts of force that would be transferred into his body, dissipating the force into the surrounding area rather than making a fine powder of his bones.

He wasted no time post landing, after readying himself against psychic assault as instructed by his Patriarch Arceus found the tallest building within 40 meters and kicked in the door to the stairs. He took them four or five at a time, bounding up the steps desperately as he made his way to the roof to set up. Already a formation of the mighty Asgardian warriors was approaching the city where the US Armed forces and a portion of Maverick's forces had already set up. The Army was disciplined, trained to suppress the enemy and prevent them from charging straight into the unevacuated portions of the city, but the Asgardians were too much for them. Bullets bounced harmessly off shields built to withstand the thunderous blows of the gods, RPGs were blocked without even a staggering step, and yet these were not the gods themselves, only the Ancient Nordic warriors that had been given the honor of living and training among them in great halls of Valhalla.

Arceus grimaced at the sight of the warriors, their courage and loyalty was unquestionable, they would fight to the death for honor and glory. He raised the scope of his M25 sniper rifle to his eye, aimed a shot at the nearest Asgardian helmet, and fired. The armor piercing round traced a direct line into the Asgardian's helmet, smashing into it with enough force to cleave through steel with ease, and got stuck. The bullet had crushed somewhat against the helmet, piercing ever so slightly into the mythical armor the Nordic warrior had donned. The custom 7.62×51mm armor piercing round had barely managed to touch the warrior's skin, drawing the smallest rivulet of blood from the Nord's forehead. With that the warrior held back, allowing his brothers to advance as he stood behind their wall of shields, and raised a majestic longbow, as it glowed subtly in the dim light of the battlefield the warrior let loose a single arrow that pierced through the concrete and steel of the structure with ease. Arceus leapt back as the arrow cut through his cover and whizzed just over his shoulder, slicing into his cheek. The warrior, believing his opponent vanquished, turned back to his brothers and continued the assault.

Arceus lay flat on his back, breathing hard from his brush with death.

This is a death trap. How are we supposed to fight with these people, these gods? They've had literal lifetimes to hone their skills, and me? I'm just a man that can jostle things around a bit with my mind. Those men down there? They're even worse off. All they're got is guns and missiles. Might as well be pea shooters. This is hopeless...

As he turned back to look at the soldiers Arceus caught a glimpse of a blinding beam of light, and the lone soldier that took that beam to his back. As the smoke cleared the soldier let free a small boy that had wandered into the path of the beam of destruction and turned to face his foe, fearless. As he watched the boy scamper off toward safety, Arceus wiped the blood from his cheek and readied himself.

Hopeless? Maybe. But I've got a much better chance than that boy does. I've got a better chance than his mother that's doubtless desperate searching for him, and any of those of the other poor bastards stuck in the middle of this hell.

Loading explosive rounds into his weapon Arceus took up his position on the rooftop and readied his rifle once again, this time aiming for the gaps in their armor. Forget armor piercing rounds. It's time I rained hell down on these bastards. With the added clarity granted by his determination and focus Arceus managed to time his shots with the Army's own volleys, and as the damaged archer raised his shield Arceus took the opportunity to fire a single explosive shot into the archer's skull, spraying bone, blood, and gore onto his comrades. Comrades that remained unphased. Arceus wasted no time finding another target and letting loose another round, this time knocking a shield loose just long enough for its bearer to be peppered with machine gun fire compliments of America's finest.

Fine, ignore me you bastards. You won't live to regret it.

Warfare, blood and death, cutting and killing, stabbing and maiming and shooting...the chorus of Khorne. As the two sides gathered and charged in the sky and on the ground of Kansas the chorus sang out, guns called out the name of the Blood God and blades danced for his court. Blood spilled to the ground and called out in iron tones while the shouts of warriors filled the air. The Blood God's gaze slowly drifted to Earth.

The demons of the Blood God cackled with glee at the coming war and took up arms as the Herald was summoned.

Katraya felt the pull of Khorne and her wanderings took her to Kansas, to the war in the sky and on the ground. As she strode through the streets of small town Kansas the eyes of Khorne followed her form and the whispering of demons filled the air around her. The air shimmered where she strode and the ground ran with blood in her wake. She pulled her ax from its resting place on her back and at long last the doorway was opened.

The door was opened when @arceus_aurelius-rex killed one of the Asgardian soldiers oh so near to Katraya and his blood sprayed out onto the ground at her feet. She put her foot in the blood and held her ax to the sky. Blood began to rain from the unnatural clouds. "BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!" Her scream echoed through the sky and the streets, it bounced along the walls of Asgard and the buildings of small town Kansas and reached every ear in the battle. "SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!" Eight hundred and eighty eight demons of khorne burst into the real world and surged forward as a tsunami of blades and murder. Asgard had unexpected reinforcements.

@orpheus_knightfall:

Maya exit the Parisian studio iPhone in hand, heading towards what was supposed to be her next shoot. Paris was one of the few cities that she loved to visit, even though she hadn’t seen much of the city. Her Ray Bands were meant to conceal her identity, but as she found out—they weren’t much more than an accessory. As she pushes her long legs towards her Snow white Lamborghini Aventador; her name was called from many directions.

Flashing a forced cordial wave and smile, the 5’11 Liafador beauty opened the doors on her extravagant sports car before pressing the “push to start”. “Call my love,” She commanded, prompting siri to send automatically call her younger sister Selene. The phone rang a series of three times before prompting a frustrated Maya to leave a voicemail.

“Aye b!tch, I was trying to see where you wanted to meet for lunch. Call me back when you get this message. Love you” She couldn’t help but shake her head, getting in touch with Selene was nearly impossible; finding her on Earth was almost as difficult as locating Leonel when he went into space.

As she went to throw her phone done, her phone flashed an alert, one that hit close to home. Explosion in Malaga, while the public did not know the building’s exact use, Maya knew this to be the Malagan HFC building, a building her mother often frequented.

“What the actual fck!” She screamed, scrambling to dial another number; this one her brothers. Before she could manage to hit send on his contact information, another alert flashed across her screen. “Attack on Asgard. The fight between Amora and Ziccarra had begun”

Pushing the door open on her car yet again, Maya’s all white air max 90’s left the earth, propelling her high into the atmosphere. Bolting through the air emulating the sound of a jet turbine, the Liafador beauty set off the join her family in battle, against her mother’s best wishes.

Unknown to anyone other than Selene, she met with Amora just a few weeks ago to try and ameliorate conditions between the Asgardian Goddess and her family—her efforts were futile. From that day, she promised if Amora brought one more negative action against her family, she’d act.

That time was apparently now. Soaring through the sky with a trail of turbulent sonic booms following her lithe frame, Maya’s leather jeans and jacket gradually dissolved, this time styling herself in her Red Cardinal garb complete with headdress.

Kansas, more specifically Newton, Kansas; was a battleground. There was profuse fighting in the small town; as well as high in the heavens, she didn’t expect this fight to become this big, but the teen model was ready to defend her family.

She saw her family, preparing for battle, others like Maverick 6; her STRIKE teammates were already engaged in battles on the surface. The King of Atlantis, members of the equally prominent Aurelius family, all was engaged in the conflict for their own reasons.

She wanted one person Amora, the woman that kidnapped her, the woman that possibly stole her sister’s memories. She couldn’t find exactly where the woman was, but she’d fight if she had to.

Her eyes darted towards a member of Zeon’s Cardinals, tasked with fighting a Knightfall they found the ultimate honor in dying in the name of her cousin. Just the sight of him infuriated her. Charging a high concentration of light energy in her palms. The 5’11 Liafador beauty sought to engage the Knightfall Instigator; hoping to put an end to his cumbersome ways.

From the heavens above Myt & Jesus watch down on earth being bombarded in Demons once more and rally at battalion of Angels to push the fowl minions of the Blood God back into their pit where they crept out of.

They reach the Kansas battlefield and stand ready for combat raising shield and sword for righteousness, awaiting Myt and Jesus to deliver the command to advance on the demon hordes.

They cry out in unison to show they are not afraid and willing to die to protect humanity.

With the massive landmass of Asgard hanging low over Kansas, there was no longer any dimensional gap between the world of the gods and the land of mortals. Access to Asgard, which had once required passage through the Bifrost, was now open to anyone with means to travel through the sky, whether through flight, aircraft, etc. This put Asgard in a more vulnerable position than wars before, however, it also allowed their army open access to invade Midgard.

From the gates of Asgard, over a thousand Pegasus flooded the skies, each carrying a god equip for combat. They brought with them a deafening roar, one filled with the desire for battle and glory that came as a first instinct to the Asgardian people. They lived to breathe in the scents of battle, to hear the sound of metal against metal in the lethal battle for victory and honor.

Their winged steeds flying at the speeds of the gods, the Asgardian army tore through the sky, slashing and eliminating any mortal adversary that stood in their way.

In a sudden burst of bloodthirsty growls and sword clanging against sword, the Asgardian gods met with the forces of the Atlanteans and Emerald Cardinals. Hundreds of miles above Kansas, surrounded by the azure skies, the diverse collection of armies clashed, each fighting with ferocity and valor to defend the honor and safety of their homes. Each Asgardian god fought with the strength of a hundred men and the speed of a falling star, as well as the knowledge of centuries of battles and wars against opponents across all of the Nine Realms. They were gods, and would prove their immortality by ending the life of any mortal who challenged them.

One goddess had yet to join the swarm of fighting that gathered above and on the ground of Newton, Kansas. From the wall walk of the gates that had defended Asgard for millenniums, Amora’s cunning gaze surveyed everything taking place below her. The Asgardian warriors clashing with Cardinals and Atlanteans, members of the Knightfall clan locked in combat with members of the Liafador family, and, in the distance, the familiar streak of shockwaves through the sky as the face she had been waiting to see made its way closer and closer to the home of the gods.

“I’ll take care of the husband. Ziccarra is yours,” Valdar, who stood loyally beside her, said with benevolent excitement before beginning to charge forward; but not before Amora placed a restraining hand on his chest to halt his attack.

“No,” she simply said, offering no other insight to her thoughts. The sound of war drowned the air around them, but the goddess maintained an unsettling poise even as Ziccarra drew closer to her, husband and son close behind. “Physical contact with such creatures disgusts me. And why should an immortal mistress of sorcery sully her hands?”

A faint jade aura grew stronger and brighter around the Enchantress’ hands, which she had raised to begin performing a physical ritual in order to complete her spell. Trails of the mystic energy followed the path of her hands, until a strange symbol, known only to those mastered in the mystic arts, hung glowing green in the air in front of the Enchantress. With the spell complete, she thrust her hands forward, sending a wave of magic energy through the air. Translucent jade in color, the magic energy traveled outward from Amora in a radius that continued growing in length and height until its thin barrier had enveloped all of Kansas. The spell had no physical consequences, however, its mental effects proved arresting.

The spell caused anyone who had gathered in Kansas to fight against Asgard to fall under the illusion that their allies were their enemies. All but the strongest of magic users would be able to resist the power of the Enchantress’ sorcery, and evade the state of mass confusion and fear that now plagued the state. Soldiers would turn against soldier, and family against family as the spell reached the magic-vulnerable Ziccarra Liafador.

Amora watched the result of her work with satisfaction, knowing not only would Asgard and its allies now have the upper hand in battling armies who now turned against each other, but that she would witness Ziccarra and her family fall victim to her magic and be forced into wanting to kill one another.

Returning his Bloodaxe to its sheath, Valdar turned to look at Amora with a reluctantly impressed expression. “I would have rather killed them myself,” he grunted, folding his brawny arms over his chest.

Unfailingly poise, Amora affectionately stroked her golden locks of hair as if the spilling of blood and loss of lives taking place below her were nothing more than an uninteresting movie. “I know. But be patient,” she soothed him, while flicking her hand to magically open a portal of swirling emerald energy. “We have friends to gather first. But I promise, the time for us to spill blood will come.”

With that, the goddess’ figure walked with swaying hips into the portal she had created, followed by the Godslayer, before both the scheming Asgardians were transported away from Kansas and the war taking place to where they would execute the next phase of Amora’s plans.

@palidan:

Katraya turned her gaze first to the heavens and then to the battle-line now arrayed before her army of demons. The forces of order always gather to worship Khorne. Katraya pushed to the fore of the demon army, her crimson armor glistened with blood. There was a power behind her, to the eyes of the angels Katraya was clearly no longer human, she was essentially a Daemon Princess, though she still followed the laws of the mortal world and her powers did not decrease with the rising of the sun or increase with the rising of the moon, nor did she grow weaker as her companions died. Katraya was Herald of the Skull Throne, favored among Khorne's many servants.

Only the angels could see Katraya's full glory, the aura of fury that permeated her every pore and the gleaming power that pumped through her veins. Here stood a killer of worlds, a butcher of cities and someone fully capable of killing angels and gods. The power that flowed through her body revealed something else to angelic sight as well...she was an Eater of Souls.

"Have you come to worship at the alter of Khorne?!" She shouted out to them, holding her arms wide in a gesture to the battlefield as a whole. "Every time you kill, every time you fight you empower the Blood God, the only god who is utterly and completely honest." She gestured to the sky and battle all around them again. "Look around you angels. These people are blind to reality, they fight and kill, their anger weakens the boundaries between worlds and their blood fuels the power of Khorne's demons. What better worship could he ask for? Now you come to join it."

Katraya smiled. "It matters not from whence the blood flows!" Her demons charged.

The dark room cast an eerie shadow on her lustful features, the society Matriarch sat flanked by mindless husk all moving in perfect synchronization with one another. As her steely blue eyes fix on the situation brewing in Kansas, it was now apparent that the time to strike was now.

Asgard was home to the resources Zedora needed to finish the synthesis process. The humans, apes, organics fought for their insignificant space within the universe, while the society, her society sought to bring them together through synthesis or annihilation.

“First we eliminate Thee Champion by taking his wife from the picture, my Intel tells me that Ziccarra has a strict weakness to magic. Ensure that this information is sent to the Asgardians.” Zedora commanded. Rising from Aphasic iconic chair through use of her control over gravitons, the Society Matriarch moved toward the center console to be transported to her massive dreadnaught.

Neither Zedora, nor Autocrat (Aphasic) had any aspirations of choosing a side between these apes; they only sought to gain the power to augment the very laws of the universe. Created by humans, to bring about the destruction and eventually evolution of humans—poetic beauty.

As powerful ship sped off toward Kansas, filled with enough husk to take a small country, the Synthetic Siren sought to force the hand of the “heroes” by inadvertently aiding Asgard in it’s attempt to defeat the Liafadors/Humans.

Thanks to powerful mass effect cores and element zero, the trip from the undisclosed H.I.V.E HQ to Asgard was instantaneous. The armored tendrils of her massive ship plowed right into the heart of Asgard, painting a horrific maroon silhouette of destruction across the Newton, Kansas’s skyline for miles.

Husk poured from every crevice of the massive dreadnaught, tasked with two missions: transforming the humans in the town into mindless 3^rd Society drones, and procuring artifacts that’d allow Zedora to complete the synthesis process.

The husks were former humans, captured by the society, transformed into “androids” through horrific society indoctrination. Their programming limited them to performing the functions they were given, they were instructed to kill or transform anyone that stood to be an obstacle.

“I did not come to be a witness” Zedora hissed with her telltale emotionless visage. Falling to Asgard aided by her control over gravitons, she dropped just before the Liafador family Matriarch. There was a conspicuous change in the atmosphere, her data suggest that someone had augmented the laws of science, with her mind being more or less a computer, she stood impervious to the effects of the mental manipulation, but she could now exploit those who couldn’t.

(Something like this v)

Now before Zeon, she said nothing, instead, through use of quantum mechanics commanded her ship to fire upon Alexis, Ziccarra, Leonel, Leonardo and Isis so that she may divert their attention long enough to isolate Zeon. Throwing her hands forward a thick transparent cerulean wave pushed from the tips of her fingers . She thrust a powerful explosive graviton energy orb to the right of Zeon hoping to deal the first bit of damage to the Liafador Clan at the hands of an artificial Liafador—Zedora.

@amora: @maverick_6

Sentinel Hawk helped a small girl down from an evacuation truck and into her exceptionally happy mother's arms. She turned away from the truck just in time to get struck by a huge wave of arcane energy. The devastating spell was instantly negated by her Nth Metal mace and helmet and suddenly the Maverick soldiers she was working with started attacking one another. Uh oh.

Sentinel Hawk pulled the communication device from inside of the truck and activated it. "Sentinel Hawk to " She paused, ducking suddenly as someone took a shot at her. The bullet slammed into the side of the truck cab. She stood and grabbed the soldier by the head, slamming his face into the side of the cab just hard enough to knock him unconscious. "HQ. Someone cast a spell, it's turning people against each other." It was a brief report but it was all she had time for. She found herself fighting some of the people she had joined up with, dispatching of them in the least lethal and painful ways she could think of. Unfortunately, being a Hawk Lord, there weren't many non-lethal ways she knew of.

@orpheus_knightfall:

The Great Beast's vast intellect connected with the Knightfall the moment he had entered through his skull. It's deep voice echoed through the man's mind. A fascinating strategy, you are to be complimented on your original thinking. Unfortunately you have also placed yourself in a terribly vulnerable position. You are now within my physical mass, which means I can take you with me to whatever destination I please, including several that would prove fatal even where you are. There is of course one other difficulty with your decision, I lack the central processing nerve bundle you would call a brain, at least in the traditional sense. Instead my thought process are spread out over my entire nervous system, the skull merely contains sensory organs. May I pose a question? Why are these two sides fighting? What instigated this conflict?

Something had been bothering the Great Beast since the fighting had started and he aimed to get to the heart of it. He also aimed to get his foe distracted.

@king_archelaus:

Not long after her shield plowed into the marbled walkways of Asgard did all hell break loose, she was joined by her brother Leonardo, then soon after by Alexis, her husband, Leonel her son; Zeon and Isis her nieces. Maya was also here against her command, but Ziccarra didn’t have the time to scold her daughter for insubordination.

As their mother it was almost impossible for Ziccarra to respect the true nature of Selene and Maya, they both lived relatively carefree lives, the fact that they willing chose to place themselves in conflict often left her dumbfounded. But they were forged by the genetics of the divine, they could take care of themselves she knew that, and like her husband, she was beginning to allow herself to be content with their decisions.

Joining them in this conflict were members of the Aurelius Family, Greystroke Industries, Divine Beast, Winged Warriors, Maverick, Paladin, The Human Bullet A man of Middle Eastern decent; and King Archaleaus and a whole host of other powerful entities she’d never met. Missing from the encounter however, were Valerie Huntington, White Queen of the HFC and Mercy Sheridan, Black Queen of the HFC. Valerie was still poised to show, but Mercy would be absent on the account of her being pregnant. Her husband (?), Espada instead, joined the fight in her place.

“We need to get to Amora to end this conflict, now!” Ziccarra commanded, finally landing on the surface of Asgard to begin battle with the Asgardian forces. No sooner than her vermillion boots graced the paved roads; a massive hulking ship appeared above them signifying the arrival of the 3^rd society. “Goddess…” she whispered, realizing they were now essentially fighting a war on two fronts.

“MOVE!” She screamed, alerting her family and allies to the powerful concussive blast from the dreadnaught. Instinctively dodge rolling, she was pelted by the force of the attack, but sustained only superficial damage.

“Someone take out that dreadnaught!” She commanded again, this time appointing her orders in the direction of her Cardinals. Now, engaged with the Asgardians the sound of sword clamor and grunting filled the streets of Asgard. There was fighting all around her, despite the death that would come out of such conflict the Cardinal Goddess enjoyed this setting over her desk.

She could easily be likened to the Crow, a bird that was historically known to be a trickster, manipulative audacious , fearless and intelligent. Blades bounced off her armor, only to be met with an unquantifiable amount of psionic energy from point-blank range. She fought hard and admirably to clear a path, to where she believes Amora lurked. With each swipe of her blade, thud against her shield, her nether regions grew moist with the thought of holding Amora’s head in victory.

As she made a push to enter the gates, the Cardinal Goddess…stopped. Something happened, something drastic. There was a change. Before engaging she made a conscious effort to keep tabs on her family and allies, but now they were seemingly gone?

“Goddess…” she prayed, holding her head in agony; as if she were confused. Her eyes focused on a man not to far from her current position. He was mighty, his execution flawless, he was one of the more seasoned warriors of Asgard she could tell. Changing course, Ziccarra lunged from her spot bringing the sword of Athena down in a slashing motion toward the King of Atlantis.

@orpheus_knightfall:

It wasn't that the Temporal Hound was angered, it took much more to anger him, it was that he was disappointed. He had made the mistake of thinking he was fighting people who used reason and logic. He ignored the explosive and simply phased between seconds, becoming invisible. When the explosive went off it shredded some of his optical sensory organs and left him blind. Fortunately his body was designed to regenerate from far more significant damage. Once the nerves had repaired themselves he phased back into the usual flow of time.

The Temporal Hound suddenly found itself attacked by weird drones and slammed its massive claw into the lead 'shell.' The creature was obliterated on impact, reduced to powder and vaporized blood. A second was smashed into the ground and a third was thrown into the fourth, cutting one in half and pasting the other one.

@maverick_6

Sha stood hovering with her hands folded eying the mounting army with an arrogant visage. There was no denying how resourceful these humans were compared to the ones back in her time, had she shot that at anyone they would’ve been dead—except probably Nighthunter.

“Do Gods bleed?” He asked, not drawing the slightest bit of response from the alien. Before she could mutter the slightest word, a roaring force of overpowering electricity plowed into her sternum forcing her guiding her through the streets into a gas station at the far end of the street.

The moment her lithe body plowed into the station, an explosion engulfed the entire; dispersing shockwaves throughout the entire city of Newton. The pain was palpable, Sha found herself writhing in agony; as the electricity coupled with the explosion ate away at her immaculate Ninjan Flesh.

As many times as she fought Feral Nova, she should’ve been used to being burned to some degree, but that wasn’t the case. Pulling herself from the crater cause by her own body, the Ninjan beauty’s eyes begin to sparkle with a passionate crimson hue. It could’ve been her anger at a fever pitch, or it could’ve been the magical persuasion by Amora that broke the limits of Ziccarra’s chaos factor; not that it mattered. She was going to kill them…all of them.

Every human that thought they escaped because of his toy were doomed, and if they didn’t know it when she fired her light beam, they’d know it now. “Heh…I’m not a god boy” She finally responded, spitting thick globs of her alien blood into the scorched trench that sat just beneath her airborne toes.

“I am a universe”

Throwing her hands forward, Sha began to generate a silvery discharge from her fingers. One by one bolts, metal pins, metal infrastructures, anything metal were ripped from their very foundations and were now at the mercy of the alien queen.

Throwing her hands up in the air, she sent the metal objects skyward, before allowing them all to rain down forcefully into the now dilapidated city of Newton. But…she was not finished.

Pressing her hands closed together, she began to generate a high pitch sound wave, sound so loud once it reach a certain point it could no longer be heard. Throwing her hands forward, she pushed a massive sonic wave composed of sound and gale force winds at her attacker. She was unsure if gods bled, but she was 100% positive that humans did.

@maya_liafador:

“How do those fit, Ms. Liafador?” the Tom Ford boutique employee asked in a thick French inflection, as he finished tying the laces of a pair of black over-the-knee boots.

Standing to her feet at a modest height of 5’6”, small in comparison to her older sister, Selene Liafador took several steps to feel out the designer shoes. Pausing to turn side to side in a body length mirror, the political power child and style icon debated her opinion on the boots. She had always followed her own intuitions, doing whatever she felt like doing regardless of the thoughts or opinions of anyone else.

The employee attending to her waiting silently, hoping he would be successful in such a high profile sale. After several minutes of surveying the lofty boots, Selene finally made her decision.

“I’ll take them,” she said with a smile, thanking the sales associate for his help before finalizing the sale with a swipe of her Black Card.

With a new Tom Ford bag in hand, Selene stepped back out on to the streets of Paris. She had been staying in the City of Light for a couple days now, enjoying the cafes and shopping while Maya prepared for her latest schedule of runway shows. It was rare for Selene to have the free time to travel to Paris or New York to be present in support of her sister’s thriving modeling career. Now, with her schedule cleared and a need to get away from home for a bit, Selene planned on attending every one of Maya’s shows to come, as well as spend quality time adventuring through the city with her sister.

Donning a white T-shirt with ripped blue jeans, she kept the attire simple but chic by adding a Nomia vest, Celine striped tote bag, and Gianvito Rossi suede sandals. Using a hand to cover her face from the few paparazzi that had found her outside the store, the gold and diamond-littered watch on her wrist sparkled dazzlingly in the sunlight.

Stepping into the privacy of the black town car waiting for her outside the boutique, Selene pulled her Space Grey iPhone 6 out of her bag to check her recent messages. She looked at several texts from Justin Bieber, whom Selene had yet to confirm or deny dating to the media, and a missed call from her sister. Maya had been booked with photo shoot after photo shoot since Selene arrived, but they had planned on meeting for dinner later that day. Just as she began typing a message to her sister, a new notification interrupted the phone screen.

“LIVE: Battle Rages Over Newton, Kansas” read the headline, which Selene tapped on to show live footage of the ensuing war. Holding her phone in her hand, Selene took a moment to process the shocking change in her day’s plans.

“FCK,” she cursed loudly, startling her driver. “Stop the car!” she yelled as the vehicle’s tired came to a sudden halt, forcing Selene to brace her arms against the seat in front of her to prevent her figure from flying forward. Opening her door, she had barely set one foot on the ground before she was flying through the air, above Paris, above France, until she was high enough to jet in the direction of America; already changed into her black and silver clothing she wore for combat.

Selene rarely moved at the speed granted to her by her father’s New God genetics, but today she flew over the Atlantic Ocean fast enough to singe the air in her path and send shock waves rippling across the mass of blue waters. Something in years of international flight had embedded her with an internal navigation system, allowing her to fly across vast distances at light speeds without losing her sense of direction. As her enhanced gaze allowed her to come into view of Asgard, hovering over Kansas with thousands of warriors from all different armies clashing between the sky and ground, she hoped furiously that none of her family members had already become casualties. She knew of all the vicious attacks the goddess Amora had made on her mother and sister, making this war a personal one between Asgard and the Liafadors, but Selene also couldn’t help but feel Amora and her were connected somehow as well. That Amora had played a part in shaping the past Selene could only remembers pieces of.

Just as she was approaching the battlefield, where she found men and women from every faction battling to save or ruin Earth, a wave of green energy races toward her. Selene braced herself for the impact, but was surprised to find the energy had no physical harm on her. Before she had time to be thankful, the spell’s mental effects took over her.

Clutching her raven locks in her fists, her face contorted into an expression of agony while her body curled into a ball. Crashing into a field below her, her figure created a mile long crater in her path before her momentum came to a stop. Lying in the dirt, her attire slightly tore, the mental pain quickly subsided and allowed her to think clearly again. Trying to center her thoughts after the brief but torturous mental assault, she realized something had shifted in her. Turning her head around in search of her family, hoping that one of them could help her figure out the confusing feeling that had settled over her, she recognized the red flash of Maya’s light energy. Soaring into the hair toward her sister, something suddenly stopped her. She hovered in the air, watching Maya, until she became overwhelmed by an instinct she couldn’t fight.

A voice inside Selene screamed desperately for her to stop, that her sister wasn’t an enemy, but the effects of the Enchantress’ spell had overpowered her. The powers of Ziccarra Liafador and Thee Champion had all come together to create Selene, making the Black Cardinal the only one of her siblings to represent the perfect genetic legacy of her parents.

Selene’s amber eyes began growing red with the heat of a star, gathering solar light before she released them in two beams of thermal power racing toward her sister at incomprehensible speeds. Not far behind the optic beams came Selene, a single fist raised to strike her sister without mercy.

@selene_liafador: @maya_liafador

There were a few beings present actually immune to the effects of the magic...and one who was capable of spreading that immunity. As she watched allies turn on one another Sentinel Hawk realized she needed to act. She also needed to get away from the confused Maverick forces until HQ was able to fix the problem. She hit super sonic speeds the moment she was in the air with a series of increasingly loud sonic booms. The young Hawk Lord headed straight for Selene Liafador and Maya Liafador, intending to swipe both of them with Nth Metal. The mere contact of Nth Metal would immediately negate the magic spell's effects. Unfortunately while Sentinel Hawk could cure some of the armies fighting, she was but one person and could only do so much.

The teenage Hawk Lord focused on her mace as she flew and forged it into a new weapon, extending its shaft and creating a double headed mace the size of a quarter staff. She hoped this would allow her to strike both combatants at once with light blows that would be enough to clear their minds. In the mean time she kept her helmet on, not intending to fall victim to the spell if it were cast again or its effects remained lingering in the area. Her aim was true, she would fly right between the two of them at the exact moment they would be just far enough apart to allow the new mace to contact both of them at once. Hopefully she didn't get hit in the process, but she was a Hawk Lord, she'd be fine.

I really need to get some sort of like...Nth Metal water gun for these circumstances, just hose everyone off with liquid Nth Metal like "CALM THE HELL DOWN!" Oh...right...liquid Nth Metal would be boiling hot. Hm, well I guess it's better than using a super soaker full of cat pee?

Breaking Point

Danyal Adama. It was just a name to him, now. Nothing particularly special about it; the spelling and origin matched his distinctly Middle Eastern features. It was an ordinary name, not one befitting a god.His brain worked tirelessly, even in the heat of battle, constantly pondering past, present, and future. As his stony eyes glared into the palace, he felt a curious sensation come over him. His small, pointed ears picked up a vibration in the air...no, not the air. Reality. Someone was messing with the fabric of the universe. As dramatic as that might sound, it could mean anything. Such disturbances were often harmless, but it was nonetheless intriguing. Then, it hit him, quite literally. The spell, explicitly designed to provoke aggression against one's allies. Luckily for the rest of the world, Exemplar had come alone. He felt no need to seek out a particular target, a victim of his sudden malice. Hmm. Magic, he thought with a slight upward curl of his lip. Not quite a smile, but not a frown either. I am above such cowardly manipulations of the spirit.

Actually, the truth was that he had been affected by the spell, and quite dramatically at that. The Exemplar could effortlessly shrug off the machinations of any lesser wizard, but unbeknownst to him, he faced the most powerful Æsir herself, Amora the enchantress. And thus, as the spell washed over him, a sublime change began to take hold. His lip curled into a sneer, and his gold-booted toe tapped impatiently. He cracked his neck, staring deep into the intricate designs of the palace, all now subtly cracked by his casual assault. A slight groan emanated from his form, a disdainful noise that signified absolute boredom. Historically, the Exemplar was one of the most patient beings alive, his spirit lying in wait for centuries while it searched for the proper host. He was not one to begin a battle heedlessly. But...he was ready for a fight, and he had been granted nothing. The indignity of it all. He was no sadist, no lover of pain, and yet, somehow, for some reason, he just wanted to tear the world in half...

He'd settle for a city.

I will not be kept waiting, he thought, grimacing. The urge to commit a violent act grew greater within him, reaching a deadly boiling point. Ironically enough, it would be the witch's own spell that would bring Asgard to its knees.

Suddenly, without warning, he rose into the air at speeds that left a small crater where he had been standing, eyes aglow with inexplicable rage. He rose high into the darkened sky, lightning crackling amongst the clouds. The bolts were drawn to his form, colliding with his muscular body, akin to one of the world's strongest dynamos. He took a deep breath, exercising the rage from his form, channeling it into strength. He continued, flying high into the Earth's atmosphere, eventually feeling the cold release of a vacuum. There was no more air around him, his breath held as he exited our world for the slightest of moments. And with that, he turned around, looping upwards, and then diving directly at the courtyard from whence he had come. It was positioned in the exact center of the floating city, the perfect target for the single blow that would threaten to break the floating domain of the Æsir in half. His eyes glared directly into the spot, the single point of pressure that held together the entire metropolis.

Red-hot heat engulfed his hands, the familiar feel of re-entry quickening his blood. Lightning surged behind him, drawn to his form, but all it touched was his afterimage. A column of wind twisted around his ever-accelerating body, tearing at the atmosphere itself as he extended his forearms, fists clenched in anticipation. But even as the chaos reigned around him, Danyal was serene. The heart of a storm, the eye of the hurricane, he brought with him the demise of the Æsir's domain. With enough gravitational energy beneath his fists to crack Everest itself in twain, he collided with the vast city, a single bolt of death and destruction penetrating the center that held the divine realm together. He would fly directly through the ground, emerging beneath the former paradise.

Even if the city were not to dramatically break or explode, he would have undoubtedly dealt a structural blow that would cripple whatever enchantments were holding the form together. While it could still be saved, it would be forever changed, a divide now running across the entire structure caused by his deadly re-entry. Breathing heavily, he looped out from underneath the crumbling realm, inspecting his catastrophic handiwork. A single droplet of sweat singed his divine brow, rolling down his face as his eyes widened at the sight of the city. The enchantment's effects were beginning to exercise themselves from his system; he now saw, in full control of his actions, what he had wrought upon the invading Asgardians.

He turned from the carnage, hovering silently in mid-air as the war between Man and God raged around him, fists clenched at his sides.

@ziccarra_liafador: @maverick_6

Now the Temporal Hound was furious. She acts like a Time Siphon, callous, arrogant and willing to murder civilians for no other reason than the sake of doing it. I'll kill it, smash it into oblivion and smear its face in the ruins of its dreams! No longer content to fight drones and watch the others fighting the Temporal Hound stepped into the street of Newton Kansas like a vast predator, an enormous beast of nightmares. He reached down and closed his claw around a semi-truck and lifted it from the ground. The beast then carefully crushed the vehicle together until it no longer resembled a vehicle and instead resembled a rough sphere. Diesel fuel ran down his claw as his huge eyes fixed on Sha with a fire burning behind them that rivaled the entire assemblage of Khorne's demons. As the creature stared a building fell on top of it and crumpled around it.

Dust rose over the ruined building but the creature simply strode from the ruin without a scratch. Now convinced that it must intervene the Great Beast sent its crushed up semi flying at Sha and revealed the greatness of its strength.

The metal ball that had once been an eighteen wheel transport broke the sound barrier the moment it left his clawed hand and announced its speed to the world with a thunderous sonic boom. This was followed in rapid succession by more booms as the ball accelerated through the various Mach levels until at last it was traveling at such speeds that the simple friction of passing through the air ignited the leaking fuel and set the ball of twisted metal ablaze as it traveled like a ruinous comet for Sha's heart. Metal began to warp and melt beneath the heat but the ball held, too compact to immediately give in. Even if it completely fell apart by the time it struck Sha even a single piece of the metal would prove catastrophic at such terrible speeds.

The Great Beast lowered its claw and waited. Although he had come here to aide an ally he now fought on that ally's side for his own reasons. He would not suffer the random massacre of civilians for the simple sake of killing. Every fighter present he understood except for one, the one willing to throw buildings down on innocent people even though it held no tactical advantage. She reminded him of a Time Siphon, only one that was too petty to be any fun to hunt.

@the_matriarch

Zeon watched as the battle unfolded, people from all corners of the world have gathered in the state of Kansas to either help mankind or destroy it. Her Cardinals were already out trying to evacuate the area as best as they could while The White Cardinal leader continued to push forward. But her attention was pulled away with a giant shadow overcast the city, and upon looking up, witnessed something she had never seen before. It was a massive size ship that seemed to resemble some sort of squid, with tentacle-like ‘legs’ as they planted themselves on the ground. But as it did, hundreds of what seemed to be mindless humanoid creatures began to rush outward in every direction into the city and could visibly seen going after the citizens of the city.

“CARDINALS!” she yelled out into her earpiece that connected her with her White Cardinals. “Fermare gli umanoidi e proteggere le persone della città !” <Stop the humanoids and protect the people of the city!> she yelled in her Italian tongue as she pulled out her bow, an arrow colliding into the skull of one of the many human shells, causing it to flop over with blue liquid oozing out of it’s fatal wound. This wasn’t something she was anticipating, and with most of her Cardinals still on their way from Spain, who knew when the rest of the help was going to arrive. One by one she began striking down the husks, but they didn’t even bother to put up a fight. They just continued to come in waves, rushing to take whatever man, woman and child they could get a hold of with no concern of their own well being. What was this?

Then, at that moment, a woman with brunette hair landed before her with grace, and with features of a Goddess… actually, a particular Goddess. Her cold blue steel eyes locked with Zeon’s own chestnut for a split second before roars of explosions were seen being shot at her family. “NO!” Zeon yelled out as she rushed forward to strike the fellow Matriarch but before she could close any distance, a green wave of energy slammed into the Liafador Warrior, and within a split second, she dropped down to one knee, her hands allowing her blade to fall to the ground as they then grasped onto each side of her head while closing her eyes tightly as if trying to regain a hold of herself. A pulsating pain throbbed inside her mind, as if she was being mentally assaulted by someone. But as quickly as it came, it left, and Zeon’s eyes opened once more letting out a sigh of relief as they focused up at the woman she was once attacking only to have the sudden urge to attack her own cardinals.

Her eyes darted to her trusted White Cardinals who were busy fighting among themselves and Zeon took grasp of her blade once more, completely ignoring Zedora as her eyes glared with blood lust. She wanted to kill them all, every single White Cardinal. But before Zeon could even take a stand, her body was suddenly jerked to the side forcefully against her will, flung off to the side if gravity itself was being manipulated against her. Her body slammed forcefully into a light post as she then dropped to the ground again, a burning in her chest began to rise as her anger increased. Digging her fingers into the rubble of dirt her eyes glared upward at the woman who was responsible, but as she stood up, a small remaining group of White Cardinals began lining up one by one collectively to fight against their leader.

“Ti ammazzo tutti.” <I’ll kill you all.> she hissed at her Cardinals as held fast onto blade, and like a spring, pushed herself forward. Her blade sparked as it collided against her mind warped Cardinals and though she had trained her warriors herself, they were no match for The Liafador Matriarch. Maneuvering through the battle like a snake. One by one she strike her Cardinals down without hesitation or mercy. The teeth of her blade sunk into the flesh of all those that opposed her like the fangs of the serpent itself and in less than a minute, all of her Cardinals that stood against her were laid out upon the ground either dead or bleeding out. Breathing heavily her eyes refocused on Zedora, her sword dripping with blood as not a single drop of the crimson fluid could be seen on The Matriarch’s body.

“Tu ritorni.” <You’re turn.> Her lips curled into a maleficent grin as she shook the blood off the blade.

But instead of going into a physical attack, her eyes glossed over with darkness as she threw her left hand forward, shadows from all around her began rushing at the unknown Liafador from every direction in shape of chains, trying to wrap themselves around Zedora tightly. Without stopping the Liafador then threw her right arm forward with her blade pointing directly at the fellow Matriarch as her own shadow would swirl up her body and to her right arm until shooting forward, in attempts to impale the woman right in the chest.

@nemesis_liafador: @the_matriarch:

Magic, a force worshiped by men of superstition, and wielded by gods who were primitive. Or so, Santiago certainly believed. Perhaps however, magic was no force of the supernatural, after all, the Spaniard rejected all things that claimed exemption from science. Perhaps then, in his mind, magic was much like gravitation, electromagnetism, the strong force, and the weak force, a fundamental force of nature, born from the heart of the Big Bang. It mattered not though, it, magic, had never been his dominion. In his arrogance, he had dismissed it time and time again. Poetic then that it was now magic that sought to do his mind, beautiful and pure, the greatest harm, deprive it of its senses.

First a chill, deep and eerie, settled itself on the nape of his neck. And even for a mind of such searing intelligence, conscious act grew all the more difficult. Yet still, it remained clear enough to warn him of this, to recognize the sense of onrushing danger. Fingertips, ethereal and vibrating with a warmth, a power underneath, scratched feverishly against his cranium, its hunger for the mind that rested beneath growing more fervent by the minute. Then in a moment, as brief as it was, this city of war and modernity seemed to fade, it was a warning. And it was then that the Black Viper acted, doing what he could, that which he could only do to break the spell's bind on him. The spell was quick but he was quicker. His mind was instantaneous in thought and action. He suffered not from the error of the human mind, even the mind of gods.

Santiago's mind was the most powerful of quantum computers. His thoughts were not the same as those in the minds of gods and men. Matrices, overt in their complexity, mathematical expressions, quantum algorithms that have yet to even exist, all being processed infinitely fast, without delay. And where the magic once sought to seize his mind, take hold of the organic component of him, it encountered that bit that was so far removed from the standards of both gods and humans, the posthuman mind. "Impressive", he smirked, a chuckle escaping him, a chuckle of relief. It truly was.. quite close. Though not quite for the others. There two his senses detected, two individuals in particular that he simply could not allow to fall victim to the spell's allurement of the mind. Leonel/The Azure Son, one of the greatest destructive forces he'd acquainted himself with, and Isis? Why she was even there, he did not know.

Though he acted quickly. The Cataclysm, an event that saw the entire Solar System and more threatened by Leonel's power when corrupted was motivation enough, the Spaniard was to assist him first. How? By quantum telepathy, the power to command the quantum/physical information that constitutes one's consciousness/mind, and command it into the planes of space-time geometry. Beyond the reach of the spell, Leonel's mind remained unsullied, and his body? Still under his control. Why? Because his mind's informational units and body remained bound by quantum-entanglement. A bind that would exist even if theirs was an infinite distance."Santi?", Leonel inquired, his voice echoing with the timbre of surprise, confusion. "What the-", he paused, "Okay... this is weird. I'm here but there at the same time", he remarked. "Tis true, mano. Waste no more time with me, go and-", words cut short, Santiago smiled, head shaking following Leonel's blitz into battle.

His target? Amora. Wherever she was. They all knew, the Liafadors. She was the serpent's head. And if Leonel had his way, he would cut it off, burn its foundation, and raise her head in victory. His father, Thee Champion however, was not as fortunate against the spell's effects. Why? Because now, at this very moment, the Herald of Hope sought to intercept his own son and engage him in battle. Meanwhile, Santiago, intent on dispelling the spell's effects from Isis' mind just as he had Leonel's, approached the Liafador with a smirk, flirtatious and charming in it, "Perhaps, tis in your best interest to stop avoiding me, bella", he remarked, his head subtly tilted to the side, his steps, bold and adventurous, prodding her personal space until the emergence of a Third Society dreadnought blanketed the sky above and cast its cool shadow over the city. Husks, monstrosities of lost humanity scattered after each and everyone one of them, while the dreadnought itself, opened fire without discrimination. "Shit", the Black Viper cursed, his breath hushed as he, should Isis not have already done so, pulled the Liafador Rogue by the wrist and in her company found cover behind the thick wall of an enduring structure. Leonel and Thee Champion fell victim to the dreadnought's blast, their flesh scorched, garments singed, and their fluids boiled. Though wounded, they survived. "Reinforcements are needed". And with a quick transmission, reinforcements were to come, and in the form of a 360 foot, 7080 ton juggernaut, the Spaniard's walking weapon of mass destruction, the Goliath-Mech.

"Put all the money in the hat!" A woman who was to pretty for petty crime but to lazy to find a real job yelled. Her name was Clair or to be more accurate Tophat. She wasn't known to many what with just being a small time bank robber. Of course she had no way of knowing just what she was getting into today. She'd only just gotten here having arrived from the very hat people were putting money in.

"You should be running ms, have you looked outside!?" To which a pretty pair of blue eyes looked to the glass door.

Tracers from bullets raced by followed by arrows and spears. One hit an officer and he was thrown back with such ferocity if you blinked you'd have missed it. A man dressed in armor outdated and lacking in fashion stepped into view. An energy blast engulfed the man turning him to ash. Crystal blue eyes watched the ash blow through the wind before setting back on the thugs. Apparently it wasn't one blast but many by thugs who'd gotten hold of some more high tech weapons. Bro fists were shared and bears were raised. Then mechanized zombies pounced on the gang and began to rip them apart. A blink and a giggle and Clair returned to the bankers.

"What that?" She gestured with a thumb over her shoulder. "That's nothing gods and mecha zombies that ain't new." The bankers looked her in absolute confusion. "Really? Nothing should surprise people anymore! Fck I should of tried a show here maybe then I'd have made a profit." Still confused looks. "Ugh back up." They did so. One card toss later and a portion of the building was gone the part also home to the security camera footage. "When this is over go home, the war did the damage the government will pay for it. You my fine audience can claim you weren't here left for home ASAP. We cool." They now moved with purpose and were less confused.

Three minutes later.

With a strut to her step she ventured into the warzone that was Kansas. A flick of the wrist and a Joker of Diamonds arrived in Clair's hand. The flash of green light stopped at the card and then went back down the road it'd came from. Sadly it dissipated almost instantly meaning the enemy wasn't turned on itself. "Houdini damn it!" The remark made with a stomp of frustration. "It's bitches like you who ruin magic for bitches like me!" Her yell was fierce and annoyed, and likely heard by almost no one over all the other sounds. "However maybe there's a reward in the end. I could be the goddess of like hat tricks."

The Asguardians while a bit puzzled realized a companion and left her be. The joker was thrown and with a twirl of Clair's finger the card removed the heads of two police officers rounding the corner. Heads hit asphalt and the card returned to her hand. Ready to bring some unorthodox charm to the war she tossed her hat into the air and drew her wand. The cutest of bunnies fell from the hat landing on Clair's shoulder. It's collar stated the bunny to have the name of Bubbles and it nibbled on a hundred dollar bill. The hat landed on Clair's head and like that she was geared for confrontation.

What an idiot, Maya thought, did this fool think he could contend with the might of a reality altering goddess? “You little bitch.” Maya hissed with her eyebrow slightly cocked. His threat was superficial; even if he managed to actually launch said missiles, Spain’s Air Defense protocols would pick them off once they entered Spanish Airspace, not to mention Maya could send them spiraling into the great abyss.

“Awww look at the little Knightfall…” She said, gesturing with her index finger. He wasn’t worth her time. “Where’s Leonel.” She asked turning her back toward the Knightfall, only to have the ionized ocular thermal energy plow directly into her solar plexus.

Maya’s lithe body skipped across the marbled roads of Asgard, before rolling to an abrupt stop. Weakened and badly bruise, the Red Cardinal’s arms begin to tremor as they push back the marble roads, so she could rise. Willing her nimble body back to her feet, she felt Selene’s fist plow into her jawbone. It hurt so much, her cheeks rippled with excruciating pain. The force from Selene’s fist sent the young teen flying even further back; depositing her to the ledge that separate Asgard from the skies above Kansas.

“Selene!” Maya called out with a guttural pitch. “Fck…” she whispered, allowing her eyes to peer down towards Kansas. Calming her erratic nerves, the Red Cardinal flew back onto the massive land mass. Her russet eyes befell Selene; she seemed confused, almost as if she didn’t know what she was doing. Unbeknown to Maya, Amora had cast a spell, a spell that warped everything so that allies were now enemies. Her red headdress in coalition with her own primitive magic powers prevented the spell from actively affecting her, but it was apparent those effects plagued Selene.

“Selene!” Maya called out, trying to reason with her muddled younger sister. Selene’s genetic make-up fashioned her with the absolute best qualities from both Ziccarra and Alexis. She was just as powerful as their father, and just as cunning as their mother. Those attributes alone made her physically too much for the Power Princess.

Her immaculate posture tainted now, by the savage assault of her own flesh and blood, Maya closed the distance between them not willing to fight her best friend. “Selene, I won’t fight you,” She lamented, holding her injured forearm close to her body for fear of further injury.

Her thoughts were erratic, she wanted to help her sister, but the pain of Selene’s attack sent powerful shocks through her frail body, she just wasn’t durable enough to withstand any more damage.

Maya was now the oldest female sibling of Ziccarra and Alexis, but she drew her energy, her drive and motivation from her family. Dropping to a steady knee, she tried to physically shake the sluggish feeling before fixing her eyes back on the Black Cardinal.

“Think…think…” She whispered, trying to think of someway to break the spell on her sister.

“Maya you have to fight back!” A voice yelled from nowhere. Turning slightly to the right, her eyes befell the frame of her deceased sister Catalina. “Selene’s going to attack again, you have to fight her. Light Magic is the strongest form of magic.” Cat coached, her phantasmagoric frame floating ominously offset to Maya.

“Right…” Maya grunted, still favoring her right arm. Waving her left hand across the vast space between them; the Power Princess opened a series of wormholes in reality, and allowed her potent magic based attack to push through in beam form, hoping to negate the effects of the spell, much like she’d done with Leonel on Earth-M

@zeon_liafador:

Amora’s spell was magnificent, turning all her enemies into “allies” was an excellent strategy, and it also proved that Asgardian Magic was far more valuable than Autocrat initially hypothesized. Rarely did the Matriarch Zedora ever conduct operations without some sort of structural back up from Animus or Autocrat, but this was different—it was personal.

Her synthetic mind prevented her human side from overhauling her decisions with petty disputes, but with both Liafador and Knightfall factions involved, her processor deemed direct intervention necessary.

Her eyes bounced left to right, as the Liafador Family Matriarch quickly disposed of her husk and highly trained White Cardinals. “Impressive” Zedora applauded, not shying away from her stoic facial expression.

Zedora switched stances, as now Zeon’s attention once more turned in her direction, the White Cardinal’s eyes turned black suggesting some sort of abnormal power-set, one that the data didn’t attribute to Zeon.

“Updating” Zedora, commanded, only to be halted by Zeon’s mastery of the shadows. The chains were tight, too tight to break away. For the first time since her creation, the artificial Liafador was gravely injured by an organic.

There was no organic blood; only an excessive amount of synthetic blood pouring from the wound, instead of a grunt or some sound of pain, the android Apex instead, released a nefarious snare of her own.

“Initiating Scan…” at her command, the husk in her immediate area, began to search the area for use of telepathy. Not long after the scan was conducted they found Santiago Porthos in communications with Leonel.

“Perfect…” Zedora said weakly. Allowing her steely blue eyes to glaze over the Artificial Liafador began to siphon the telepathic waves begin emitted around her through her telepathic reave technique, A technique that used telepathic waves to heal and improve her physical condition.

Little by little the gaping whole embedded within her stomach began to close, reimaging her body to the way it was previously. Now completely conscious of Zeon’s formerly unregistered powers. The Matriarch cupped her hands together creating unstable dark matters within her own hands. “There is only one MATRIARCH” She whispered, before firing the explosive energy at Zeon, looking to decimate an entire area.

As Zedora uncharacteristically battled with Zeon, her dreadnaught stood engaged in battle with a Spanish Goliah Mech. Because of the HIVE mind all 3^rd society tech had, the husk turned their attention from ravaging to actually attacking the massive goliah.

@arceus_aurelius-rex: @kai_aurelius: @arthur_aurelius: @dante_aurelius:

The desert wind carries sand and embers through the air spinning about much like Abelle's own head. Her ears are ringing that last air strike was to damn close for comfort. There's a warmth to her brow, she reaches to touch it but her limb stops before her blury vision. There isn't a hand to touch her head, she's looking at splintered bone and an arm dyed crimson. Moving to use her other hand hurts, dislocated shoulder and the various bones of her left arm are fractured. She gets it up though to find her fingers all bent out of place, it hurts to move but she addresses the head wound regaurdless. It thankfully isn't deep she'll live, the adrenaline pumping through her veins is making the pain endurable.

"Aurelius finish the damn mission." A command came over the comms, there was a sort of echo to it though as if coming from another headset as well.

"Give me a second sir." Abelle leaned against a wall having taken the time to open a phosphorus grenade. She slipped the handle of her knife into her mouth to bite down on, just pouring the grains into the wound stung. It was about to get worse though. Tossing the emptied grenade aside she went for a lighter. A broken thumb shakes as it lights up the flame Abelle knew from cigars with her uncle. They shared a smoke every birthday sense Abelle was like thirteen she never would of dreamed the chrome lighter would be used for this. No time to dwell on it though, the flame had to kiss skin.

Even with her teeth clenched hard about the knife handle her scream was loud. The pain had her instantly blacking out a moment as she dropped to burry the arm in the sand to stifle the flame. She couldn't take time to be careful she had to simply pour the grains of phosphorus over the wound and light it. Every blood vessel nerve muscle fiber, and her bones had to be touched and ignighted. It stung with an intensity hard to imagine or convey. No scream or amount of tears could shed light on the pain. So reminding herself of her motto "made of stone" she simply got to her feet and though it hurt like hell to move began to move toward the bunker.

Last man out was the man in charge but the air strike vaulted his departure. The building fell in and the leader was pinned where a door frame had once been. Flames that provided light against the hot unforgiving night made the face of Abelle's target all to clear. "Do it kid, we both lost good people on this. You've got to avenge them." Abelle did have a compulsion to bring death some of her dearest friends were lost in this campaign.

"Fathers aren't meant to bury their sons just end it girl. Vici and Raleigh don't have to know it was you." She didn't want to do this though the cost was to high. She couldn't chose between squad and family.

"Lt Abelle Aurelius you were given an order." Her com system remarked in impatience.

"Abelle I do adore your work on the field, couldn't ask a better ending. Besides removing me from the debris involves being split in two I can't be saved." He was calm and ready speaking clear to try and make it easier for her. To fight another Aurelius to the death was a cardinal sin, to kill her own uncle who had been a second father to Abelle it was a crushing concept.

Broken fingers clenched the pistol at her side, pain virtually forgotten from the internal pain to take it's place. She aimed for the heart hand shakinging feverishly "I'm so sorry." Click.

Her skin glistened with sweat breathing heavy. The stage had changed a humble small city. Zombie like abominations rampaged and Asguardians in the distance fought against the less prepared humans. But the humans were also fighting eachother.

"Stay the fuck out of my head!" It was her rally cry at the moment and what followed was anything but pretty. The ground opened up in large chasms swallowing legions of husks and closing. Leaving brief guysers of bluish blood. Her fists met any husk that got close with a rage that on it's own crushed skulls. Backed by her weapon of choice heads were popping like grape fruit. An entire wall of a building was shaken free to crush another brief hoard.

A stone barrier is raised a fist soon smashing through it Not vaulted by such a simple motion. One Asguardian had bothered to take notice of the Aurelius soaked in husk blood. A grip tightened around Abelle's throat. And in any case other then today that might have been the end. Filled with a fury yet seen by her however all it did was insight greater wrath. A tendril of earth simply sprouted upward and then slammed down the warrior's throat. A thought and that earth sought an exit splitting the Asguardian open in the latest pool of ichor to stain asphalt.

With that she turned to the other Aurelius behind her. Abelle had been weaponized against family before. She broke the spell on her by an iron will wanting to never go there again. However a sinking feeling told her she was one of the fortunate few not to be swayed by what had transpired. "Stop, check your targets Aurelius." A simple order, she wanted it to be so. A standard order might pierce the vail of what was seen and what was real. Anything elaborate might go unheard she wanted to play a bit into the illusion to help break it.

@shanana:

The clangor of swords, spears, bullets, and more continued on as the chaotic battle raged, the shouting of slaughter, fear and panic all merged into the cacophony of battle as the King of Atlantis felt his breath run short, a sudden chill overtook his body and his lungs seized as though the coldest waters had been thrown over him, "Arg," he grunted wearily, clutching his Trident tightly as it vibrated, altering him to the foreign presence attempting to malevolently influence his mind, at the same time, he swerved left, and then right, cutting down one Asgardian with a swift slash, before thrusting the Trident forwards and into the neck of an approaching attacker, luckily catching a shadow pouncing from behind, instinctively the King of Atlantis swiveled on his heels and brought his Trident up defensively... "What!?--

CLANG.

---Ziccarra!?"

The Sword of Athena swung down mightily and collided with his invulnerable spear, the immense force and strength of the woman caused his feet to literally dig into the concrete and shatter it as he kept himself upright, gazing into the woman's eyes.

"Stop!"

He roared, simultaneously attempting to swat her sword away with his trident by swinging to the left, if he succeeded, it would be immediately followed up by an elbow to the nose, prior to dashing backwards and regaining a stance, thrusting his trident outwards and creating distance.

Biological Imperative

Bradshaw asked her (@ziccarra_liafador) as she made herself to her feet and floated above the ground. Smiling beneath his protective mask he said "Never seen a universe bleed either, girl." He anticipated that she would attack attack and already had a chaff grenade in hand as he dropped it to conceal himself and blanket the area. This was something he did just in case she would actually have attempted to speed blitz him, something he'd always prepare for. The mixture of smoke and chaff, would both conceal him from types of visions that included the visible spectrum of light as well as numerous other types of visions.

However, she didn't and that gave him opportunity to move and sift through the smoke, holding simply a mere M1911 in hand. What was unique about it was the round it carried. A round loaded with 1 gram of Pure Hafnium-178. Carrying some 1330 Megajoules of energy in one gram, much more then the gun he'd used previously, it would release X-Rays and Gamma rays to atomize or vaporize most things made of ordinary matter. Bradshaw was one of the few entrusted to handle such a potent round. He was one of the most skilled and one of those trained in and qualified to use things meant to harm such superhumans. The kinds of things he carried to take on the Warsman's forces. The kinds of things he carried to fight AIs who ripped apart blocks at a time with a whim. Things like her.

He didn't need to see her, as he'd memorized her relative position already, aiming to fire the round towards her with the perfect aim one gained from training so religiously and brutally. The kind of aim he used to tag speedsters, and the most beautiful part? You cannot hear most bullets coming towards you. Even if she did dodge, he doubted she would outrun the blast of gamma rays and X-Rays. But why would she try to dodge.

Her position kept in his mind, Bradshaw with a pull of a trigger released a round with intent to atomize her. A round doomed to miss as Bradshaw felt something grip to his very bone. Every metallic object flew up into the air, with a simple gesture and Bradshaw had no metal in his armor, but in his body. His arm jerked upwards as the non-magnetic round verred by in the air, way off target as it hit a building hundreds of meters away and blew a gaping hole with it, atomizing most things near it.

Bradshaw felt his titanium foam reinforced bones move against the flesh in his body as he was sent spiraling in the air out of the thick smoke, suspended high in the air as he saw signs, lamp posts, cars, structures and other such objects ripped from the ground, and then felt a rush of air as everything was sent back downward to slam back into the ground. As Bradshaw flew downward at high speed he reached inside for his parashoot, his arm pushing through the rushing air resistance, enough to pull his retractable carbon nanotube parashoot as then, his armor hardened like something of a statue.

His descent slowed drastically as cars an objects slammed downward and he smacked into the ground, the durability of his armor mitigating some of the G-Force of the impact as it even distributed about him. No bones broken or anything. He brings himself to his feet slowly as the smoke then cleared. Hopefully she didn't see that.

What Bradshaw did see however was that she had something else prepared for him as the smoke cleared, as she thrust forward a blast towards him. He then felt himself taken off his feet yet again as several objects fly upwards. Windows shattering from the pitch. He flew back quite the distance and he saw a building as his armor hardened. He braced himself as a few moments later someone jumped into him, tackling him and causing him to instead of flying through a wall, flying through a window.

He crashed with the figure in through the window as the glass shattered and they plowed through 3 walls, wood and dry wall scattering about as they stopped finally and landed on deserted kitchen table. Bradshaw saw that it was one of Maverick's own exosuit clad men.

"You alright sir?" "Yeah." "We managed to save a lot of the people from that metal storm, but she's trying to kill everyone." "Alright I'll keep on her. Have something for her." Bradshaw gets up from the rubble as soon he felt a wave of energy pass him by. It did no harm, but he felt it, inside his head. He knew he was being assaulted mentally. But he was resist to this, to an extent. The soldier turned into something else. Something of a monster. And the infantryman saw the same.

A few moments later Bradshaw was slamming the man face into a table, while he backhand him away, all the way across the roof and through a door as he scrapped back and got to his feet as he drew his HF knife capable of cleaving into diamond. However, soon, he'd heard a message, courtesy of their new found superpowered member (@sentinel_hawk).

Upon her warning, Bradshaw saw through the perception. He wasn't unaffected by the magic and his resistance was only to the aspect of changing his emotion. He'd observed the monster, saw how it moved. Saw how it was something more like a soldier.

Being able to master the mind was a vital skills, and borderline a superpower. He wasn't resistant to magic. A demon wasn't certainly standing before him, in his eyes, however, he simply, knew it was in actuality, a man. Amora's illusion had affected him in that it warped his perception but not his emotion. He did need his mind to have any defenses but those he had already to continue fighting. And neither did the man. The rest of his army however was not so lucky, as they'd begun to their weapons on one another and the other factions.

I want all the orbitals prepped.

He reappeared again from the second story window and jumped out to look a the Liafador an walk towards her with nothing at all in his hands as he strtode towards her. She looked like a soldier to him.

"Not a god, but a universe? I can give you a few points for that, I've heard people call themselves gods but never a universe. Get a bonus for originality!" He yells at her from a distance.

She likely isn't even paying him any attention. However, her condescending nature was something he more or less counting on.

"Never destroyed a universe before." Bradshaw points at her with his index finger.

"Klck klck. Bang" He mimicks the noise of a firearm going off as he points at her and mimicks a pistol with his fingers. It was like something a child would do, something seemingly useless.

Then it came from the sky. A weapon somewhere in the heavens that sought to wreak it's wrath on the Ninjan and the newly appeared horde of husks. The ray of particles from the sky was moved in a way to sweep and was being rapidly aimed towards the queen as it tore the every structure and object in it's path apart.

Bradshaw blows on the tip of finger from underneath his mask. As if some gesture to put out smoke.

@king_archelaus:

The Modern Day Athena grit her teeth in anger as, as she tried to plow her mighty blade through the cavity of her ally. She knew no better; in the pacific blue eyes of Ziccarra everyone was an enemy. There was virtually no limit to her strength, so why was this simple Asgardian able to repel her powerful blade with ease?

Her sword was guided to the left by his mighty staff, shortly afterward, a powerful blow came across her nose jarring her head backwards, and depositing her body on the ground—only for a moment. The powerful blow left her disoriented, and a bit incensed.

Rolling in her armor on her spine, Ziccarra eventually stopped in a crouched position, sword and shield in hand. “What is going on here…” She gasps somewhat perplexed.

With the battle raging on around her she didn’t allow herself time to actually focus on what was going on. Her opponent was incredibly resilient, and strong, but instead of continuing his assault he took a defensive stance not too far from her current position.

Forgoing her skepticism, Ziccarra dispatched her Aegis shield, a divine relic that allowed her to hone in on her foes. Charging her shield with explosive psionic energy, the modern day Athena toss her shield at the ground right before the mighty Atlantean king, in an attempt to use the explosive properties of her shield as a ploy; to retaliate with a jumping spin hook kick toward his temple.

@the_matriarch:

Rage, that’s all she was feeling, the spell that was cast over her unhinged her control over her temper. But it wasn’t a simple temper problem she had, oh no, this anger was unnatural, one that was constantly built up inside of her was because of a single ring that she wore on her right ring finger, one that bore the symbol of The Avatar of Rage. Solar Hawk had given warning to the Wildcard Liafador that the ring would amplify her anger when it was worn, but at the same time giving her immense power. It was a burden the Italian Cardinal carried with her daily, and today, the mental chains she cast upon herself to keep that anger in check… was gone.

A maleficent grin appeared on her face as she watched as blood poured from the woman’s wounds. But instead of a satisfying cry of agony, the synthetic Liafador dared to snare at Zeon. Balling her hands into fists she began to whispers the words that would unlock the power of the ring. “With blood and rage of crimson red, Ripped from a corpse so freshly dead, Together with our hellish hate, We'll burn you all-- that is your fate!” An overwhelming sense of anger engulfed the Wildcard Liafador. She could the anger, the rage in every single living thing around her. Her ring feeding on it as she could feel the power of the ring increase dramatically.

By the time her eyes shift back to the Fabricated Liafador it seemed her wounds had already healed. Her brows collided against one another, unable to figure out how she was able to heal herself. Who was this woman? What was her story? But it didn’t matter really, because in a few minutes she was going to be bleeding out on the ground with her husks.

Just then an eruption of dark energy pushed towards Zeon, and without a single concern for the lives around her, she dropped down to one knee and slammed her fist upon the ground as a dome of crimson energy surrounded her. The energy collided with her and was able to feel the rumble of the attack down into her bones as the area around her became victim to the onslaught.

Pulling her fist from the ground the dome vanished as Zeon took a stand once more, the ring glowing upon her finger as her eyes hungered for battle. “You may look like one of us.” Her Italian accent thick as she took a step forward, stating that she looked like a Liafador. “But you have no anima!” <Soul> Throwing both hands forward a searing stream of crimson fire escaped from her ring, roaring towards Zedora but right behind the flames the True Matriarch came at full force. Her sword now put away she was instead clenching onto one of her throwing knives with her left hand as she jumped forward and upon descending she brought the blade down forcefully to her right shoulder attempting to slice into her suprascapular nerves and upon landing on the ground crouched down she thrust her right palm forward towards Zedora’s chest as an energy blast from the Ring of Rage was let loose.

@maverick_6: Metal shards protrude out of nearly everything in the local setting, the evil Ninjan watch as the forces of Maverick move to protect the remaining citizens in the town; and they succeeded, but Sha also succeeded. She succeeded in drawing the fear out of the everyday human; these simple-minded organisms now knew that even with the intervention of their worldly champions; they were not safe.

Levitating again, the golden goddess push effortlessly through the streets assessing the fruits of her labor. Surveying from left to right, a grizzly beast caught her eye, and from the looks of it; they were not on the same side. As the beast emerged from the ashes of a falling building, her keen eyesight kept the monstrous beast in front of her—and made note to the semi-truck balled snuggly between the claws of the massive hound.

“Heh…” she grunted arrogantly, throwing her hands up to catch the would-be semi-before it passed the halfway point. Sha control the various properties of light, darkness and magnetism; she could augment her interior (such as reaction times) for the benefit of her exterior.

“Pathetic.” She harassed tossing the massive truck ball to the wayside with a quick flick of her wrist. From long range Sha was truly at her most powerful, her mind processed situations with enough speed to develop a quick countermeasures, a trait these collection of heroes were probably starting to figure out.

Diverting her gaze back toward the curious human, Sha released yet another smirk. This one didn’t suggest her normal arrogant nature, rather respect. “Nice comeback” She applauded realizing this human was so much more than the average. He faintly reminded her of Nighthunter, Jean Lebeau and The Hunter of her time period, all resourceful, stern and witty in their own right.

She didn’t dare to walk, she close the distance between them by levitating, though she halted the moment he did. “Human…” she started, but before anymore words could escape her lips a powerful explosive piece of ordnance plowed into her body, not once, not twice; but multiple times.

Her athletic body disappeared in a wall of fire and soot, flames fissure through the very streets of Newton igniting an excessive series of explosions. It appeared he won, that this human defeated the Prime, the 1^st incarnation of Ziccarra. The one for which entire universes spurred from.

And then. Her once pristine fingers emerged from the depths of the epicenter. Blooded with her flesh flailing from the ends of her fingers, the Ninjan Queen rose. Her goddess-like body had become the canvas of physical deformities.

Blood push through every pore on her body, creating a minor pool under her shaky stance. “You know…” She started, her voice raspy and almost inaudible. “That actually hurt…” Her hand quivered as she mustered her strength into a ball. She made the almost fatal mistake of underestimating her opponent, a trait that Spain’s Ziccarra would never do.

“Alright, you now have my. krrk…attention…” She said, trying to speak while spitting up her own life force. Pulling her shaky hand to the sky, Sha fix a sinister smirk on her bloody face.

Channeling the light energy naturally given off by the sun, the Queen sought to do what humans have done for so long. Turn natural resources into weapons. The sun seemingly set on the town of Newton, Kansas; at least that’s what it appeared, but in essence Sha had absorbed all the light in the skyline.

“You’ve never destroyed a universe before…but I have” She replied with a cackle, and with a thrust of her hand, Sha released a ‘real-life’ equivalent to a solar beam.

@ziccarra_liafador:

The Temporal Hound had reacted out of anger but not without thought. The Great Beast was hyper intelligent and excessively patient. Because of its nearly impenetrable hide it could afford to fight by trial and error. In the enemy's display of arrogant power he had learned much, her reaction time, intellect and a portion of her abilities. He also learned from the damage she absorbed.

The Great Beast snarled when she channeled and released the ambiant light as a solar beam. He was not fast but he could jump... far. He launched into the air and crashed down between the arrogant woman and her target. His immense form landed...beautifully. His entire frame was designed to disperse his weight for stealth purposes but it did so temporally rather than physically. The force of his landing was shunted into the future so in the present he landed like a cat, utterly silent. He knew he could not deflect the full blast, the human would still have to dodge as much of the energy was likely to travel under the creature.

The Temporal Hound dug in its claws to resist the kinetic force of the blast while its hide took care of the rest.

The Hound stood defiant in the face of the solar blast, intent on saving the innocents behind the woman's target, rather than the target himself. The creature had not been impressed by the decision to call down an orbital strike.

The Great Beast's hide changed to a weird shade of orange where the beam had struck as the armored hide worked not to shunt the energy but to convert it to something useful. If he were honest he didn't much care if the human warrior survived the excess energy that traveled under him or not.

His next problem was far more complicated, he needed a way to injure a being with fast reaction times. The Great Beast opted to wait for an opportunity. Everything makes mistakes, he simply needed to wait for one to occur.