Origins

I want to begin by saying I have never, ever written fan fiction for anything. Sentinels of the Multiverse has been my favorite game for the past two years as I’ve gotten into gaming and I have yet to play a game that I enjoy just as much or more. Since this is my first time creating fiction for anything, I hope you will forgive me if the story doesn’t play out like you would imagine a Sentinels story would progress, but I definitely will take any suggestions to heart. I hope you enjoy Sentinels of the Multiverse: Origins. One last thing, this story is divided into chapters and is meant to feel like you would be reading a comic, so I will try my best to describe action sequences without boring you.

Chapter 1: Slim

Under a single light as sirens and cries are heard in the night, Harry “Slim” Walker reflects on the reason he decided to get out of bed.

The wind whistles slowly in the night. It is a time of uneasy rest as there are reports of missing people and the police cannot keep up with all the reports. One would think from the large number that bodies would be found left and right, but I know better. I've seen it before years ago...I'm too old and can't stand the heartbreak anymore. When did this city become such a cesspool?

I remember when it was a nice city. I remember children laughing and playing in the streets. Business boomed and my skills taught a new generation discipline, respect, and teamwork. Then my world was shattered and many of my students fell into the crowd that I so longed to keep them from in the first place. Sophia was probably the most heartbreaking of all. She was the best and brightest and now this city has taken her away. I mourn for her.

The sight of some of the kids in the neighborhood breaking into cars sickens Slim. There was Johnny trying to jimmy a lock while Suzy worked on the alarm system. Both had been great apprentices at the shop and their skills in the dojo were sharp. Now they were nothing but petty criminals for the Organization.

“Suzy, you done with that alarm,” asked Johnny.

“Just finished.”

“Good, locks open and it shouldn't be long before I can wire...”

Johnny's words stopped mid sentence when Slim's fist landed. Suzy's eyes widened in panic, but her reflexes kicked in to avoid the sweeping leg. Johnny caught himself and kicked up to the ready. Even though he didn't see him earlier, Johnny knew the technique. His days at Slim's dojo taught him to be ready, but he never thought Slim would be this brazen.

“You nearly got me freak,” said Suzy. “Too bad for Johnny that he got sucker punched.”

Slim stood at the ready in his crane stance taking in his surroundings. Are there more? Is someone watching? These thoughts raced through his mind, but he never lost sight of his two former pupils.

“You'll pay for the shiner Slim. Though I gotta admit it is nice to see an old face. Too bad Suzy and I have to beat it to a bloody pulp.”

“You're not even gonna be able to breath right when I'm done with you. This city is done with laying down to low-life scum like you and I am the first of many.”

“Well aren't you Mr. Fixer,” replied Johnny.

“The name's Black Fist, you'll see why I chose the name.”

“What do you got old man,” said Suzy. “You're slow and your skills aren't what they used to be.”

I still have allot more capabilities than you two.”

Black Fist ducked into the ally while the two pursued. The trap had been set and they took the bait.

“Dead end you old bat,” yelled Johnny. He was right as the wall of the ally quickly approached. Slim counted on being cornered and these hoods didn't realize their mistake. Stopping just shy of the wall, Black Fist changed into a mantis style and leaped over the two, reversing the situation. Behind the dumpster, Black Fist pulled a metal object.

“What the..” is all Johnny could muster before backing out. Shocked, Suzy went on the offensive, but was parried each time with the object in hand. She had to give Black Fist points for creativity as she would never have thought she would need to dodge a tire iron. Black Fist grabbed the rebounding tire iron and used it to counter punches and kicks. His motion was fluid as he picked apart each of Suzy's moves. With each strike, her will to continue waned until she could take no more. Victory was at hand as Suzy tripped and the iron made its mark.

I did it. Despite my limitations, I took them down. It wasn't that hard, but I had no idea what would happen. All that is left is chain them...

“Urk!”

I didn't need to see what had happened as the sound of my blood dripping from the sword's edge pierced the silence of the night. I stood in shock as my executioner made their way before me. I dropped to my knees as the life slowly dripped away with blood forming in my mouth. Tears formed in my eyes and even though I couldn't see them, I uttered her name, “So...phi...a.”

Another eruption of pain as the blade was quickly removed. Black Fist fell to the ground, a pool forming around him. There was someone else there, as a suited person ripped the blade from Black Fist's body.

“Why,” gritted Black Mask with each breath becoming more labored.

“The time of heroes has long past. Now those who control others have the real power. Die learning that fact and despair as nothing waits for you...nor will anyone mourn your death.”

More footsteps arrive as Suzy and Johnny are picked up.

“What happened to you?”

“He threw a tire iron at us,” replied Suzy.

“He threw what at you!?”

The footsteps faded as the organization members took their leave. The night seemed to grow darker and colder. Slim removed his mask. He knew no one would care, nor probably find his body for fays. Would his murder be reported or would it just be covered up by one of the crooked cops that was on the take? He couldn't stay awake any longer. His time was done. They say your life flashes before your eyes, but for a blind man, all you have is memories of sound and motion, nothing visual. For me that event almost 25 years ago was the most heart-wrenching sound I ever heard.

The day was normal enough as any. Back then I was known as H.R. Walker, a master of martial arts and my dojo was open to all who wanted to learn. Even though most of the kids couldn't afford to pay, I never turned them away. I knew their eyes lit up as I demonstrated different katas and styles. Many were eaer to learn and found peace on these rough streets. I especially remember Sophia. She was so full of anger and rage. Her parents died a year after they migrated from the Philippines. Life as an orphan is tough on a child and she ended up bouncing around between foster homes and the orphanage. People say they understand you when you are angry and little, but eventually they want the angry kid to get over it. It never worked like that with Sophia. For two years she trained at my school and I thought we were making great strides until that day.

“Sensei!”

“What is it Christopher?”

“There are some dangerous looking men yelling at each other with guns! Paul and Adam went out to stop them!”

“What!? Take me to them! Sophia, go back to the dojo!”

“But Sensei!”

“Do as I say now! Do not throw your life away! There is so much potential in you, you can be great.”

As I rushed off to find Paul and Adam with Christopher, I had no idea that Sophia sneaked off to follow us on the rooftops. When we arrived, Paul and Adam were at gunpoint.

“Stop,” shouted H.R. “Please don't hurt them! They are merely children, please leave them...”

Time stopped. All I could hear were the three shots fired. I expected to feel the searing pain of the bullet followed by the warm blood pooling in my chest. Yet no sensation came. Had I not been born blind, I would have seen the tears streaming from Paul and Adam's faces, but all I could hear was their pain. I tried to move towards the sound until I felt a wet, slick hand grab me. I knew it was Christopher. I turned to grab him, but all he could utter was, “Sensei...I'm...sorry...”

Silence is the most deafening sound that exists. I dropped to my knees knowing that these three would never walk the earth again. I cried out to the heavens until I heard footsteps approaching. They were familiar and stood before me, splashing in the fresh liquid.

“You're too weak,” said Sophia. “I thought you could teach me, but you know nothing.”

As she turned away, I tried to reach out to her. She slapped my arm away saying, “Only the strong survive and the weak are merely collateral damage.” She left me there. It was nearly an hour before anyone passed by. I was no help to the police as I couldn't identify the gunman if there even was only one. Sophia may have seen something, but she disappeared. Knowing her, if she doesn't want to be found, she won't. I shut down the school the next day. With their blood on my hands, I couldn't go on. Sophia's words rang true for me for many years. I had my shop to work at and I just lay low. It really wasn't until my assistant Charlie started getting pushed around that I began to rethink my “don't fight back” policy.

For 25 years I'd lived my life in shame only answering to “Slim.” I think I responded to it because it was how I felt. One dimensional, hollow, “slim.” I grew complacent and tired. Charlie was a great assistant and he didn't deserve to get pushed around. No one did. I made a choice, just like I'm making right now.

Slim regained consciousness. Weakly he moved his hand to his chest and placed his mask on the entrance hold in his back. Propping himself against the wall, he put pressure on the site until he could fell the blood stop flowing. Slim slowed his heart rate. He knew that if he could make it to his shop, Charlie would find him and get him medical attention. Labored, he walked the streets clinging to hope with each steop.

“Only two more blocks,” he thought. He could feel the strain of his body wanting to go limp, but his spirit would not give in. At last he made it to the garage, his salvation was at hand. In the darkness of the shop he made his way to Charlie's desk. A creaking of the door came from behind. In cold seat Slim uttered, “Charlie?”

“No,” said Sophia. “Charlie won't get here in time.”

Slim froze with fear, he knew this was the end. Sophia prepared to strike as Slim's resolve allowed him only to say, “I'm sorry.” The strike did not come. Instead a muffled voice said, “I will patch you up.”

“You're not going to kill me?”

“That's not my style.”

They helped me to a chair and began to suture my wounds. When all was said and done, the voice told me they knocked out Sophia and bound her, but by the time they were finished with me, Sophia...no, the Operative had left and escaped.

“Thank you for saving my life and sparing hers.”

“Like I said, it isn't my style to kill, only bring people like her to justice.”

“You can call me Black Fist or Slim...actually no. Those names haven't really done me much good. Though it was an insult, I kind of like the name Mr. Fixer.”

“In your current state maybe it should be Mr. Fixer-upper,” the voice said sarcastically.

“Ha! So what should I call you? Angel?”

“I'm no angel, I'm the Wraith.”

I like it.

Thanks!  I will try my best to continue in this form and put out something as often as I can. Speaking of which...

Chapter 2: Maia

My eyes can barely stay awake during this meeting. It's not that I don't enjoy business, I really do, but when you are out until 5 a.m. And then have an 8 a.m. Meeting, those 2 hours of sleep start to catch up to you. It was worth it though, Walker looks like he'll pull through thanks to the Wraith.

The new fall line is supposed to go into production in two weeks and we ae seeing a shortage in raw materials due to labor disputes. While I would gladly increase wages at the drop of a hat, the truth is that these “disputes” are actually due to a secret organization holding workers hostage. While Maia Montgomery can't really do much, the Wraith could be very helpful. That's the trouble with alter-egos, they help in some ways and hurt in others. No one deserves to live in fear. Non one deserves to have their lives compromised. It is never right for those whom use fear to threaten others, they should be afraid.

“Miss Montgomery?”

“Huh, err sorry. My mind was elsewhere thinking about how to solve the labor disputes.”

“While commendable, we finished that topic about 20 minutes ago and are now talking about a new plant location.”

“Oh...yes of course. Where are we looking to begin construction?”

“Well, we thought we might try something more north. There are some promising sites...”

“North? Why not scout a location where the labor disputes are happening?”

“Why on Earth would we do that?”

A plan was forming, but I had to channel my true motives into business savvy. If I could get the board to approve, maybe I could scout out the area, take care of the organization and no one would be the wiser. Time to turn on the charm.

“It would show the workers that we are interested in growth in the area. A new site woiuld mean more income to the country, higher wages for them and their families. It also means additional allies in our fight to keep import/export costs down, and saving money on transport if we build a distribution center for increased output. Need I go on?” I had to stifle the smirk as I needed to keep up the serious look.

“Very well Maia. Who should we send to find a site?”

“I think you all need a break from me, so I will go down, bt I'm going to take a friend with me to help survey the area.”

“Who did you have in mind?”

Dr. Meredith Stinson is a brilliant scientist, one of the most intelligent beings on the planet, and a caffeine junky. She's been a part of our R&D in the past, but she's currently under contract with Eaken-Rubendall Laboratory working on the next revolution in transportation. While the Wraith will use the trip for her own agenda, Maia would love to snag her as a power move in our industry. I don't think it will be hard to get her on board to go on the trip. When you are the owner and CEO of a company that leads the field, you don't hear no that often.

I decided to make the call from my car on the way tot the airport. I fgure that if we could get out by the afternoon, we could arrive by tomorrow morning.

“Hello, Eaken-Rubendall Laboratory, Dr. Stinson's office.”

“Yes, this is Maia Montgomery of Montgomery Industries. Could I please speak to Dr. Stinson?”

“Unforturnately, Dr. Stinson is in the lab today and can't be distur...”

The line went dead. Strange. Well so much for that. I guess I'll just have to fly out of Megalopolis alone then. On the outside I always look confident, know what I want and how to get it. However, I admit that when that costume goes on it hides the fear inside.

I remember when I was a little girl, I was always afraid every time I had a nightmare. I would wake up screaming and sad at the fright I had seen. One night I remember seeing a hooded figure with a red mask in my dream. In it I see him confront a family, not unlike my own. A mother and father with their son go down an alley and are cut off by the figure. They all stand there and he gives them a look and then gazes at me in the distance. His eyes cut me to my soul and all three fall down. The father first, the mother next, her pearls in the villain's hands. Finally the boy, but he is unscathed. He just sits upon his knees, head bowed and the police finally show up to protect him. I turn to see the masked figure. His eyes still pierce me and I scream as he lunges forward.

My father arrives to comfort me in the night. I tell him with tears in my eyes the dark vision that unfolded and he holds me close. His warmth calms my nerves and I dry my tears. He reassures me that no harm will come to me, but I am still phased by it all. He leaves for a brief moment and returns with an old black sheet and proceeds to wrap it around me like a cloak. He then says something that I will never forget.

“You don't have to be afraid of monsters Maia. Not if the shadows think you're a wraith like one of them.”

After that I went back to sleep, but that man still haunted my nightmares. Though I wore the clak, it did nothing to hide me from him. For years that cloak would be with me. Even when I went off to college at the age of 15, I kept it in my closet. You would think that someone so young would either spend too much time partying or they would end up locking themselves away to study. Fortunately, I always had a good head on my shoulders and found time to do both thanks in part to Michael. He was such a sweet guy. He started college a year early while finishing high school and we met in an introductory engineering class. I figured I should know how our business worked and he figured he would meet the brightest minds of tomorrow. While Riemenschnider University definitely had its share of bright minds, when he was asked to leave because eh actually hadn't signed up for the class, he asked me to meet for coffee afterwards.

We met and chatted for a while and things culminated when he finally came clean and said he knew who I was. At first he just wanted to meet me as a potential contact after college, but after a bit of talking, I could tell he was interested in more than just a business contact. Not that I wasn't flattered, but I was 15, my hormones were in flux and so were his. We decide to be “business friends,” but hung out regularly. After two years of friendship, he surprised me on my birthday by taking me to a nice restaurant for dinner. We enjoyed a nice meal, danced and it was then that I knew a “business friendship” was no longer a viable option. He knew it too. That night was the best night of my life...until what happened next.

As we walked back to campus, we noticed a few people popping out of the shadows. We increased our pace, but were cut off. Michael offered them his wallet to leave us be, but I knew the look in their eyes. It was the same as from my childhood nightmares. They weren't out for money, they wanted to see blood spilled. A bat from behind hit Michael knocking him down. I reached for him only to be kicked in the gut. Michael fought back and made a hold in the group for me to run through. Though I didn't to leave him, I knew we needed help. I made my move, but ran into him around the corner. The hood and mask looked looked just like the one in my dreams. I froze as his eyes once again cut to the core of my very soul.

A fist caught me off-guard and I went down. I could see Michael laying in a pool of blood barely breathing as the gang began to work me over. There was nothing but desire for violence in their eyes. I started to black out when sirens arrived. I felt the hands of the ambulance driver cracking my ribs over and over to get my heart to keep pumping blood. It wasn't until almost a month later that I became conscious and alert. I woke up in the hospital seeing my parents with tears in their eyes. I could faintly smile to reassure them, but the tube in my mouth kept me from doing more. It took a few more days, but the tube was removed and I began to speak.

“Michael?”

“My parents broke the news to me as gently as they could. By the time the police arrived, it was too late for him, Michael was pronounced dead at the scene. I wanted to cry out in horror as each word made breathing harder and harder. The man who became my best friend and possibly more was gone. All the sadness quickly became anger, range and a desire for vengeance. Not vengeance, justice.

Upon my release from the hospital, my parents insisted that I take time away from school. I did long-distance correspondence to finish up my last year, but my most important studies had just begun. I had my parents hire the best martial arts teacher sI could find. For months, I trained everyday in various forms until my body had not only recovered, but become a weapon. I too studied various martial weapons as well from throwing stars and knives to swords, staves, and nunchakus. After a year of training, I was ready for my ultimate test.

Having turned in all my school work and just waiting for my diploma I too to the roof tops of the same area where one year ago, I almost died. I had followed the newspapers and knew that violence in the area continued to be a problem. I knew I had to be the solution. Thanks to the help of some of my sensei and an insider's knowledge at my parent's company, I knew where to find armor and how to wear it effectively. I put on the gear, but knew it would be seen easily if I got close. Since I was going to be a wraith, I figured I should look like one. I put on some bandages in strategic places to cover the armor and hide my identity. I took the old linen and had it remade into a cloak to serve as an old friend each time I felt scared.

It was 10 p.m. On the anniversary of Michael's death. The same time we were assaulted. I fought back the tears from memories of my friend and set my sights on those approaching. It was the same group, minus a few members. I knew from my vantage point that I could take them all out before my feet even touched the ground, but I wanted them to know the pain they had caused me. They were all brawlers, no style or substance, just raw power. I locked my eyes on the biggest one of them, the one who looked like he ate steroids 5 times a day. He would be the first I would need to drop. From this height I would probably dislocate his shoulder and knock him out by sheer force of my weight from the fall. Next would be the two in front of him. From the surprise drop I could grab one and fling him back into another one. It will buy me time to leap up and strike another in the jaw, stunning him and throat jabbing him. That would leave one witness to put out the message that the Wraith protected Rook City and they should move out.

I executed my plan like clockwork. They were easier than anticipated. After relaying the message, I left the guy with a broken hand to make sure it sticks. I ascended to the rooftops with my heart racing. I put some distance and drop to my knees. “I did it Michael. I got them. I couldn't go all the way and I'm sorry. I will always fight with you in my heart, but they won't fear me. They will fear the Wraith!”

We near the airport when I see the flash of light. Traffic stops on the bridge and the light continues followed by faint pops. Normally I wouldn't pay any attention, but the light is purple and flashing at 10 a.m. I tell my driver to stay with the the car as I exit and see the light firing erratically. Another blue light fires in the opposite direction and the purple light stalls for a moment. Another large red blast sends something flying and it slams into my limo. I wonder if my insurance covers this and grab my gear from the trunk before leaping off the bridge with my grappling hook. I hope I don't miss all the fun. I also hope there is a good coffee shop nearby.

Chapter 3: Tyler

The lights flash as the sirens blare over the intercom.

“Armor Division prepare for deployment at 1100 hours. Repeat, Armor Division prepare for deployment at 1100 hours. This is a stage 2 emergency. All personnel clear the tarmac.”

I clean up the area around the suit knowing fully well that I could deploy at any time. The suit is gigantic and not really that comfortable to sit in, but its got the firepower of a full battalion. It wasn't fancy, fast, or even the most advanced piece of machinery on the planet; but it was an extension of me. Ffor a few months I had been working on it, testing its limits and seeing how much it could take during a battle. Each time it was tested, I would refine it to fix its flaws until it was combat ready. Seeing as I was the best mechanic on the base, I knew when that time would come. Then again, I also was the pilot for the thing, so I definitely had a personal stake in keeping myself alive. This thing was my responsibility and my safe haven. I ate, slept, and worked in it it and on it almost 18 hours a day for four months. It was my home, friend, and bunker. It is an amazing piece of equipment that I earned a long time ago.

Before I joined the Army, I worked in my dad's shop fixing cars and anything else that needed repair work. On my off time, I fixed slot machines at the local casinos. I always found it funny that I was too young to gamble and play the odds, but no one was as good as me at fixing their machines. Boulder City, Nevada was a good home and with work from my dad and the casinos, I really wanted for nothing. Yet one thing kept scaring me more and more everyday. As our town wasn't very big, everyone knew each other since their birth and not many new people came in except for gas and directions to Las Vegas. My world seemed stuck in a rut. As I approached my 18^th birthday, even my father began to talk to me about someday taking over the shop and possibly getting married.

“Dad,” I began, “I don't really want to stay here for the rest of my life.”

“What do you mean Tyler?”

“I don't want this to be the only place I know. I want to see the world and experience mor than what is here.”

“I want you to achieve your dreams Tyler, but I also want you to know you always have a home here.”

“Thanks dad and I know I can always come back.”

“I also know that if ou don't leave now, you may never do so. If you have a plan, you should probably follow through. I once thought just like you and look at me. I'm happy, but I settled.”

“I'm not sure what to do, but I thought maybe I would join the Army. I figured I could defend my country while I figured things out.”

“You do that son, always know that I'm proud of you.”

I headed down to the recruitment office immediately. Looking at the doors, I know that my life would change forever once I signed on the dotted line. I opened the door...

“Outta my way!”

A rather large man pushed me aside as he made his way before the recruitment officer.

“Hey, I was here first!”

“Who cares? This place is for real men pipsqueak, you'd just get yourself hurt.”

“You jerk!”

He stopped in his tracks and looked like he was ready to break me in half when the recruitment officer intervened.

“That is enough you two! What kind of soldiers do you think you could possibly be if you act like this? We are grateful that you wish to serve your country, but pettiness like this will not be tolerated. Now, what is your name son?”

“Tyler Vance, sir!”

“And you?”

“Steven Graves, sir!”

“Mr. Graves, do you have any specialties?”

“I am a self-taught mechanic sir. I have been working on and tinkering with machinery since I was 12.”

“And you Mr. Vance?”

“I too am a mechanic sir, I've worked in my father's shop and repair slot machines for the local casinos.”

“So, you are the reason why I keep losing money at casinos huh?”

“No sir, I merely repair the machinery, its people putting their hard earned money in them that causes their downfall.”

“Ha! Well put cadet. It looks like you two will do well in the Armor Division. Once you finish your basic training, you both will be taught how to repair some of the most advanced weaponry in the military. Welcome to the Army Cadets.”

After weeks of training together, I knew Graves compared his progress to mine, just as I did to his. Even though he was a jerk, he was a good soldier. Strong as an ox, a natural leader, and willing to go to great lengths to accomplish a mission. Though I often did not agree with his methods on execution. I was no slouch either. When it came to marksmanship, I was one of the best in the squad, my mechanic skills were second to none and my tactical mind helped troubleshoot problems quickly during training exercises. We were never really friends in the conventional way, but we pushed each other to be better if only to one-up the other.

The time finally came when we were deployed. Having grown up in the desert, the two of us were a perfect fit for our outfit in repairing equipment. We had our share of fire fights as well. It was after a few incursions where no lives were lost that I was promoted to Lieutenant, but Graves didn't advance. Begrudgingly he followed my command on the field, but privately, it was the same as always. I could pull rank, but I knew he wouldn't let me down.

For eight years we worked together and finally our time was ending. We just had one last mission to escort a transport through Fallujah. In three days, our service would be done. I thought of home and how I would be happy to work back in the shop for a short time. After that, who knows where I would go. I got to see the world like I wanted and I realized that a little quiet wouldn't be so bad. Graves was thinking of another tour as he enjoyed constantly moving from place to place. He was a soldier through and through. Neither of us would admit it, but we would miss each other when we went our separate ways. Our bitter rivalry gave birth to a competitive friendship that neither wanted to let go of yet.

On day three of our escort, we encountered a sandstorm in the distance and tried to radio ahead that we would be delayed. Unfortunately, our equipment couldn't get through. We were ambushed at 1400 hours in a rural town where we stopped to wait out the storm. Insurgent forces had captured it and we had to act quickly. Rockets fired at our platoon and we exited the transport to find cover. Two soldiers took enemy fire and were helped by fellow squad members. Medics did their best to patch them up while the rest of the squad returned fire. The storm meant that we were firing blind and neither side could find the other. It was four hours before we stopped hearing gunfire. We needed to know what we were dealing with and the only way to do so was to move out and recon. We fortified our position while Graves and I departed to scout the area. Considering how much firepower we encountered, we knew we were in it for the long haul. As we made our way along the east side of the town, gunfire erupted again followed by a sound of a sniper shot. Graves and I were unscathed, but we knew someone was Watching. We had no way to safely make it back to the squad with that sniper out there.

Daybreak came. We were into hour sixteen of the attack. We hadn't had gunfire for eight hours, which meant they were hunting us. Our squad was still safe and the injured were holding up, but we knew we had to get out of here. Their small amount of recon put six soldiers total, five with automatic weapons and the sniper. Graves and I formed a plan. We would give the position of any known foot soldiers for the squad to take out while we got the sniper. Once they were gone, we'd be able to get out of here. We waited until nightfall to spot the five foot soldiers. We signaled the rest of the squad and let them know the coordinates using short radio bursts and then drew their fire. After two hours, only one soldier and the sniper remained. Our spirits were lifted a little, but fatigue began to set in. We had to remain sharp these next few hours. At 1000 hours, the last foot soldier was taken out, only the sniper was left. I decided as squad leader to make a move. Tired and in need of rest, I knew the sniper might be just as slow due to being awake just as long or longer. A shot fired and Graves took the bullet to the shoulder as he pushed me out of the way. I hit the ground hard and fired a shot at the glint of the scope. The sniper was down. Graves had saved my life. Finally after 48 hours our ordeal came to an end and we signaled a pickup.

After being flown to base, we had earned some rest and relaxation. Graves and the other two soldiers had their wounds treated and spent allot of time recovering in Dubai. Before he left though, I thanked Graves for saving my life. We finally had a mutual respect for one another. Eventually he would be honorably discharged and I would earn the Army's Distinguished Service Cross. After the ceremony, General Joshua Armstrong approached me about a new initiative. While only I and one other candidate were currently under consideration. He informed me that I would be using one of the military's latest Personal Armament Exo-Chassis YS-1300t suits. At first I wanted to say “no,” but he told me to think about it. I went to the hospital to see Graves, but he had left the country. As I looked at the men whom had fought and the pain they suffered, I knew I could do something to make sure they never would have to be alone on the field. A fire raged within me and I accepted the call. Home would just have to wait a little longer.

“Lt. Vance to the tarmac, prepare to deploy.”

That's my cue. I fly up in the shuttle as it makes its way to Megalopolis. Purple light is firing erratically at a figure that seems to be flying. I had heard of this guy, he goes by Legacy and is part of the Freedom Initiative as well. I open the cargo door and tell the pilot I'm going in. With my omni-canon charging, I figure I can get a blast in as I descend. I jump and use the targeting computer to line up the shot. I lock on and fire. The light stops as my chute deploys. The canon has some heft so I can't see anything through the smoke until the purple light turns out to be a weapon that hits me directly. It burns the chute and sends me flying. After about 20 seconds I hit something hard and crunchy. It's a limo. Oh God, please let everyone be alright! I look inside and see only the driver, Good, no one seems hurt. I've got some distance to cover...and I hope the car is insured for large military robots.

This next section is a little different as two different scenes are taking place.  I tried to add more space to show when the scene changes characters.

Chapter 4: Ivan

“Welcome to Megalopolis Baron Ramonat! We hope you enjoy your stay in the country. Is there anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable,” inquired the Lithuanian diplomat.

“If you could arrange for my things to be delivered to my hotel suite, I would much appreciate it. And tell me, has construction finished?”

Yes, the robot is operational and awaiting your orders.”

“Excellent. And has the invitation been sent?”

“Yes, I sent the invitation under the name Baron Blade. He believes this is a diplomatic meeting. As a member of the Freedom Initiative, he won't suspect a thing.”

“Thank you, you have been most helpful.”

As I take the car to the hotel, I can't help but gloat a little. Paul Parsons, this generation's Legacy is walking right into a trap. How I've longed for this day. For generations the Parsons family has served the US government blindly unaware of the hardships they bring upon the world ever since the Revolutionary War between the Americas and England. I remember when my father was a brilliant scientist for the USSR. One day when he was on the verge of turning the tide in the war, that generation's Legacy and other so called heroes destroyed my father's research facility in Mordengrad. That Legacy killed my father and was branded a hero for his government. Yet that so called hero didn't think about the price of his actions. He did not think about how that scientist, Fyordor Ramonat, had a family of his own. How his wife Edita would also die because of malnutrition. Lastly, their son Ivan would be forced to struggle for survival.

Yet I survived and understood that my brilliant intellect was of more value than all the combined strength of those around me. I reopened the factory and began building even greater creations than my father did. Those who dared to defy my leadership met their demise. As long as people obeyed, they would have their most basic needs met. When the USSR attempted to shut down my work, I terminated my relationship with them permanently. We were now a free and independent nation. Finally to commemorate my rule as Baron, I disposed of my father's murderer. I thought the line would end there, but apparently there was another Parsons. What's more, he is even stronger than his father, but no matter what, I will end this Legacy.

“Dr. Stinson, we are ready to begin.”

“Excellent, do you have my energy drink?”

“Triple espresso mixed with five different energy drinks, one of which is only legal in 2 states with a booster chaser...yeah, your usual is ready.”

“Oh thank you,” said Meredith gulping down the concoction. “That should keep me alert for an hour. Is the tachyon accelerator ready?”

“Yes Dr. Stinson, it is ready to be tested.”

"Thank you Krystal.”

This was it. The years of hard work were finally going to pay off. With this experiment, we would revolutionize transportation. Things that would take days, weeks, perhaps even months to transport now could move great distances over a matter of seconds! Thanks to our research in tachyons, we now could look beyond our world and see what life may exist elsewhere. I secretly want to “squee” or cackle like a mad scientist, but it will have to wait. I MUST maintain professionalism at ALL TIMES...

“Oh, Dr. Stinson, you forgot your donuts.”

“Whoo! DONUTS!”

The suite is quite large and has an excellent vantage point to overlook the water. My things arrive and I quickly assemble the controls. I call down to the warehouse to make sure the robot is responding to my commands. The workers report complete functionality with a range of 5 miles. Past that, any attempts to alter commands are futile. I decide that I should unpack my surprise and prepare it should the need arise, but I'm sure nothing will go wrong. I've calculated every scenario possible and they all end in my favor. It is nearly 11 am when Paul Parsons, no, Legacy, arrives for the meeting. I welcome him into my suite and draw him in. He is now in my web.

“We are ready to begin Dr. Stinson. Safety protocols in place and ready for your orders.”

“Alright Krystal. You and everyone else get to your stations in the control room. We are about to make history.”

Legacy is cordial as he arrives and I begin to talk with him about Lithuania and how I've personally changed the way of life there. His guard is down as we prepare for the meal. I activate the robot and program it to go one mile out before it begins drilling. In the mid-day sun it is nearly invisible as it proceeds to its task. We sit down and continue talking. He is blissfully unaware of who I am. I could have had him poisoned, but I wanted him to be crushed by my genius.

“So Baron Blade, shall we get down to the business at hand?”

“Of course Legacy. But before we begin, I'd like to tell you a story. A story of how a little boy lost his family, struggled on the streets, but ultimately achieved his life-long goal.”

“Sounds like it is quite a sad story.”

“Actually, quite the opposite. You see the boy's father was murdered, his mother left destitute and starving to death, and him left alone to fend for himself. Yet he gathered those around him to rally and make a better life for themselves and ultimately, he was able to bring the people to prosperity.”

“Sounds like quite the young man.”

“He is. He even avenged his father's murder with justice, yet the murderer had a son as well. That son grew up to terrorize those whom did not obey his sense of justice. I have looked for this man and have tracked him to Megalopolis. It is here where this man's reign of terror will end.”

“How can I help?”

“I'm so glad you said that,” said Baron Blade coyly.

The experiment was underway. It looks like Krystal received a phone call, but that should end soon. The tachyons began to accelerate. This should work.

“You can die.”

I fired the gun at Parsons, the bullet hit him square in the heart. Laughing I kept firing until the chamber was empty. To my surprise, Parsons stood up unphased.

“I'm guessing you didn't know I was bullet proof, “ said Legacy walking toward Blade. “You are under arrest Blade.”

“I think it is time for plan B,” I said as I flipped the switch.

“Reactor malfunction. Safety protocols ineffective. Evacuate the area. Repeat...”

The room was locked, every one tried in panic to stop the experiment. It was too late, the tachyons were moving too fast as the room want white. Oh God, is this the end?

The ray powers up emitting a purple light. I fire at Legacy as he goes flying off of the balcony to his doom. “I've won!” My heart raced at the thought of my nemesis' final demise. I look over the balcony expecting to see the mear that was Legacy. Since I am the ruler of Lithuania, I know I have diplomatic immunity. To my surprise, he is havering there, arms crossed as I stare in shock.

“Yeah, I can also fly.”

He comes at me as I fire again, only grazing him, but buying enough time to activate the robot.

“I underestimated you Parsons. You have me at a physical disadvantage, but I hold the city in my grasp. There is a robot drilling to the Earth's core as we speak. In a matter of minutes, it will be beyond range to stop. You can try and stop me or stop the machine. Your choice!”

The reactor opened as I stumbled out of the yellow haze. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as I collected my thoughts. The haze must have spilt into the sterilization chamber as it was so bright, but I swore for a moment I could see each individual drop of water coming down as the sprayers hosed me down.

“Dr. Stinson! Meredith, are you alright?”

I snapped back to reality.

“Huh? Oh, yes Krystal, I'm fine.”

“Thank God! We thought we lost you for a second there. The power died in the middle of the exper...”

“Don't worryI'llbefine.”

Krystal looked puzzled. “What did you say?”

“I said, I'll be fine.”

Parsons flew at me futilely as I fired again. He took to the sky for some distance as I kept firing. Soon he would be nothing and I would be victorious! I lined up my shot ready to fire when a beam hit the control panel for the robot. I was unscathed, but I saw from where it came. A large robot fired and damaged the machine. I decided to repay the favor and blasted him. Parsons attempted to get in a shot while I was distracted, but my backlash field gave him a nasty surprise, dropping him before me.

“How does it feel Parsons? Now you realize the superior warrior doesn't need strength, but intelligence to overcome his adversary. You are nothing but a brute. Despair and d--”

The force of the projectile caught me on my chin and I snapped my head back. Parsons then punched me across the room as I dropped my ray gun.

“No! It can't be!”

“Baron Blade, looks like the tides are turning,” said Parsons.

Before me stood Parsons, the robot I blasted and a masked figure covered in bandages.

“I guess projectile beats head,” quipped the Wraith.

Chapter 5: Tachyon

“He's unleashed a robot that will drill to the Earth's core. The city will be destroyed unless it is stopped, “ said Legacy..

“My suit can allow me to go to great depths, but I've never gone farther than 500 feet. I'll try my best to stop it or at least slow it down.”

“Thank you...”

“Bunker, you can call me Bunker and I should call you...”

“Legacy. Those controls activated the monster.”

“I'm good with tech, but this is allot of damage. I would need help.”

“I'm afraid I'm not useful there miss.”

“Call me Wraith, not Miss Wraith unless you want a swift kick to the face.”

“Deal. Now what or whom did you have in mind?”

“There is a lab near here and I know someone there who could fix this fast.”

“Go get them. You leave too Bunker, I've got Baron Blade.”

As I recuperate in my office, I can't help but look at my work space. Everything is laid out in controlled chaos, but I don't know where I went wrong. I look at my idea board and start to go over it piece by piece. Once, twice, ten times, even one hundred and I realize I didn't make a mistake. I look at the clock to see that 2 minutes have passed...but how's that possible? I literally went over the procedure 100times. I grab a counter to track my progress again. This time it only takes me a minute! I literally hear the clicking each time I finish. Could this be the result of the experiment?

I hear the “thud,” scream and throw a book at the window. A masked figure dodges the book barely with wide eyes.

“Woah! Dr. Stinson! There is a robot drilling to the Earth's core and the controls for it are smashed. I think I can fix it, but I need your help.”

“What!? No, I have research to do!”

“If the robot reaches the core, there won't be a facility to research in. Please! Come with me.”

My mind raced wondering if I should trust the masked figure. They could be telling the truthorlyingtohurtme,butthatdoesn'tmakesensesinceI'mjustabriliantscientist.

“Aah! Alright I'll go with you.”

“The option was just a courtesy.”

She launches her grappling hook and we fly off toward a hotel.

“Alright Blade, how do we stop the robot?”

“Parsons, you think everything can be solved with your fists. That's the problem with your family, you never use your head.”

Legacy headbutts Blade knocking him down to the floor again.

“For the last time, tell me how to stop it or else!”

“Or else what? You'll kill me,” said Blade standing up with a smile that quickly turned serious. “It can't be stopped anymore.”

Bunker arrived at the scene as the drill was moving quickly. His weapons would be useless here, but he did have some charges in his ammo pack. He knew if he could disable the legs, he could at least slow it down. He approached the machine, but was met with turrets firing at him. He dropped the charges and bolted as fast as the suit could move. The turrets pursued.

“Note to self, design underwater missiles and weaponry for Bunker 1.5.”

He dodged as best as he could, but fortunately his armor absorbed most of the impact.

“Thank goodness for paranoia. Those tests are keeping me alive. If I can somehow get the lasers to hit the robot, I can use that to slow it down.”

Bunker concocted a plan, weaving under one of the legs of the robot, the turret shot it causing a shift in direction. More shots fired as he grabbed the charges and tossed them toward the drill. The impact caused a detonation knocking the robot down. The drill's angle had been changed. Hopefully it was enough as he had to retreat or face a watery grave.

The Wraith and Dr. Stinson arrived just as Legacy had dealt with Blade.

“What did you do to him?”

Blade struggled to break free of his makeshift prison.

“Used the chandelier to pin him to the wall. I figured that trying to destroy the city would probably strip him of his diplomatic immunity, so the courts should have fun.”

“Hmm, not to self, don't get on your bad side. This is Dr. Meredith Stinson.”

“Pleasure to meet you Doctor.”

“Where is the device?”

Over here, we have allot of work to do.”

“It's useless. The robot is out of range now. There is no way to stop it. You're all a bunch of costumed --”

Legacy knocked Blade out.

“Now that that's done with, any ideas?”

“Since this is a transmitter, perhaps we can rewire it, boost the signal's power and shut down with a precision blast. That or it would blow up in our faces and we all die...So how do we keep from blowing up, Dr. Stinson?”

“Well Wraith, if something could act as a capacitor for the excess energy, that would improve our chances. But we need to know how big this thing is.”

“I would say about 120 feet tall and 60 feet across given how much I had to run around it.”

“Good to see you Bunker.”

“You too Legacy.”

“Fascinating! Excuse me, Bunker is it? Do you know how much power your armor can hold?”

“Enough for us to do what we need to do” replied Wraith.

“How do you know that?”

“Let's just say I know Montgomery Industries handiwork Bunker.”

“Alright, Bunker and I will set up for the exess power. Wraith and Dr. Stinson will rewire Blade's raygun and the transmitter. Let's get to work”

Meredith looked inside the panels and began connecting wires. Her mind and hands flew faster than the naked eye.

“Um, how are you doing that,” asked Wraith.

“Very meticulously.”

“No, I mean how are you moving that fast?”

Meredith paused for a moment, shocked at her own speed.

“Save the world first, freak out and need therapy later.”

Wraith modified the gun to transmit the signal, the capacitor through Bunker was attached. Legacy and Bunker pointed the gun at the robot's approximate location as Dr. Stinson and the Wraith stood at the controls.

“Targeting,” said Bunker.

“On my mark,” followed Legacy.

“Charging,” replied Wraith.

“Ready to fire,” shouted Dr. Stinson.

“Fire!”

The gun fired a blast of energy hitting its mark. The robot shorted and blew underwater burying itself in the sea.

“WHOO! WE DIDN'T DIE,” cried Meredith.

“Was that really a big risk?”

“Legacy, you don't really want to know...”

Legacy shrugged, “fair enough.”

Thanks to the heroes, Megalopolis was saved.

“I consider you all allies in the fight against injustice. I will take Blade tot the authorities where he will be punished for his crimes. What will you do Bunker?”

“I've been offered a position in the Freedom Initiative. After this, I can see that my skills could be of use.”

“Well, as the founding member, I can say welcome aboard. How you Wraith?”

“There's allot of work to be done, but if you ever need help, you where to find me.”

“Actually, we don't, you never told Legacy or me anything.”

“I'll be in touch,” said Wraith as she used her grappling hook to leave.

“And what about you Dr. Stinson?”

“I need to go home, take a bath, and talk to my wife about what I may be turning into.”

“And what is that?”

“A super-speedy hero named Tachyonthattalkswaytoofastandthinksevenfaster.”

“I caught Tachyon, did you get anything else Legacy?”

“Tachyon it is. Thank you Tachyon. If you decide to leave the research field and become a full-time hero, you are more than welcome to join us.”

“I'll think about it. Right now, I need pizza.”

Paul Parsons arrived home that evening, kissed his wife and hugged his daughter.

“How was your day honey?”

“Pretty eventful. I and some new friends averted the annihilation of our city from a giant robot and a madman bent on killing me.”

“Yeah, I'd say that counts as eventful.”

“Oh, before I forget daddy, a package came for you.”

“Oh, from who?”

“It didn't say.”

Paul opened the package to find a communicator.

“Hello Legacy, if you aren't too busy, I could use some help rescuing some workers of Montgomery Industries on Insula Primalis.”

This marks the end of this short story arc.  Hope you enjoyed it and I look forward to writing more in the future.

Really dig the story man keep it coming!  You've inspired me I might have to do my own fan story.  Way awesome I look forward to the next edition :).

I really enjoyed this! I loved how we got a glimpse into all their histories, and then it all tied together into the present day. Plus, anything with Fright Train and Bunker just being buddies will always be great fun for me.