Adveho Procul Mihi Frater: LoS vs JLI

Under the authenticated administration of the Justice League International a pivotal implementation of unprecedented espionage was commissioned. Spearheaded by the Enigmatic Electrocutioner, Surkit, and assigned to the genius level thinker, Ethan Starks, the JLI waged a secret one man operation in order to infiltrate a clandestine group of hired killers. Led by the Aristocratic Assassin and aided by the greatest fighters and death dealers the World had ever seen, the League of Shadows had been reconstituted safely in the secluded snow covered mountains of the Himalayas.Surkit had placed a premium on information as the heroes were no longer content with reacting to disasters but instead adjudicated a, "Strike First" mentality. With diligence, Ethan was placed deep within the League obtaining a level of erudition (higher education) that would have previously been unobtainable. Uncovering the Leagues secret network of funding, contracts, and roster. Supplying the JLI with sensitive documentation obtained through the Stark's unparallelled cunning and deceptive theatrical prowess.

However, not even the intellectual predilection of the JLI's greatest spy could remain ahead of the suspicious proclivity of the LoS forever. Eventually overplaying his hand forcing his retreat as he barricaded himself deep within the magically bulwarked installation baring his name housing most of his technology which reinforced the buildings security. Protected by an artificial intelligence named Ava, Ethan entrenched himself prepared to defend his compound against the League. His choice proving to be unwise. The League relentlessly permeated the location circumventing the meticulously established fail-safes throughout the base in a cinematic display of stealth, teamwork, communication, and determination. Overwhelming Ethan with sheer numbers eventually unleashing a disturbingly vicious attack that would leave the hero hospitalized. Unknowingly, the LoS' actions ushered in the long awaited return of the fallen heroes father, Light.

And so, with tension at the apex, both sides prepare as war is now inevitable.

Ooc Thread: Here

Puzzler grazed his finger across the keyboard before him, this was the time to do what he does best....

Fifteen minutes to hack most of the nations satellites, making them work their hardest to start pin pointing a location. After they were done performing the trace, Puzzler next moved onto the area the satellites pointed at, the Sahara desert. Closing in his search he pulled out a custom made virus to perform a trace on the area, hunting down any sort of block to any sort of network. After twenty minutes, the bug finally stumbled across the edges of a firewall system. "There you are..." Puzzler said with a grin. Next thing he did was not start to hack into their mainframe, instead he started to check what flights were going over the area at what times, and which ones were military class."Gambler, I pinpointed the location. The bases teleporter should be operational by now, when I say so you and the team will jump into it, that should get you inside.."Puzzler closed the signal to Gambler as he continued to do his thing.

Now that the team was getting prepped, he started to make his way through the mainframe. It was impressive to say the least, top of the line firewall with an near impenetrable surface, emphasis on the "Near". Puzzler quickly pulled out a disk from the many cabinets surrounding his data center and glared at it, "About time I finally get to put you in use.." With a chuckle he inserted the super virus into thee system. Though the firewall was impressive, Puzzler spent months on end studying software very similar to the type they used. The virus finally started to breach the surface of the firewall and break it down, a blip screen popped up on Puzzler's monitor warning him of how this will alert the Justice league."Oh...I don't think so..."He thought to himself as a grin went across his face, he easily breached the alert protocol now that it was performing a task and used his virus to execute the program. Now the firewall was taken down without any sort of alert towards the Justice league.

The virus flooded through straight into the core of the mainframe, giving Puzzler some lethal access to lethal information, including some of the Intel Ethan Starks collected for them. "And they said Starks was intelligent.." And with that, Puzzler erased the stolen files, and as a personal insult sent data on the team's roster over to the League of shadows mainframe."Gambler, on the hud screens back at base you should be getting some useful information on your soon to be opponents, use it wisely...". After the recon was finished, it was time for the assault...Puzzler opened up a command on the mainframes blip screen, with a short pause he tapped enter and it all started happening...

The justice leagues exterior cloaking, shielding and teleporting defenses were lowered in moments. On the inside was even more chaos, security protocols were nulled almost complete and the entire A.I was crippled severely, severing any home court advantage the Justice league would of had. Another mainframe attack was the "Tech town" was put into a from of cyber coma, eliminating any chance of calling for back up as well as the data feeds leading to the main base. Last but not least was the coordinates, they were uploaded to the League of shadow's teleporter and opened up a one way gateway to the justice leagues base."Gambler...They are all yours..."

All of the screens in the Justice league's base flashed on to show the shadow covered face of Puzzler's silhouette, an insult to injury.

The day had arrived when the unmerciful League of Shadows would confront the altruistic Justice League International and make them an example for the world, specifically to those who dare challenge the assassin-infested organization. The fated encounter between both sides will prove to be a climactic event that perhaps will truly define the relationship between the morally opposite teams. With tension having risen and escalated dramatically since the discovered betrayal of Ethan Starks, the upcoming brawl is truly inevitable. Many would think it a fool's intention to fearlessly confront a heroic organization as powerful as the Justice League, perhaps even suicidal considering the apparent odds stacked against the League of Shadows. To their advantage, the Justice League boasted a variety of incredibly powerful members, while the League of Shadows' talent lied mostly but certainly in their deadly combat prowess and peerless intellect. Having accounted for the several disadvantages that plague them, the League of Shadows' preparation has been quite extensive to say the least.

Found in his usual setting, that of a Witch-Hunter headquarters in an undisclosed location, mysterious Impero readies himself for the upcoming task. Having planned quite intensely himself, the enigmatic masked figure is confident in his chances this day, but respectful of his opponents' abilities, they are not to be underestimated, after all, they are the world's premier heroes for a convincing reason. "So it seems that today I will finally witness the famous battle skills of Athena's favored child", the thought simply could not be forsaken by his mind, Angeni was his prime target after all. To him, there was no greater threat in the Justice League, save perhaps for Brynhyld who too possesses fearsome combat-oriented capabilities. Arguably however, Angeni was the Justice League's most powerful member, she possessed all the necessary physical attributes to contend with the world's strongest individuals, even among the gods themselves she is revered for her virtually unrivaled Titan-like strength, however, her dexterity and raw skill in the field of battle are perhaps her deadliest assets. Doing battle with her whilst unprepared would be careless, which has prompted cryptic Impero to exert a reasonable amount of effort in collecting valuable information on her. Having obtained what he could from his fiancee Clarice, the nefarious neutral was informed of the goddess' vulnerability to powerful sound-based attacks and her questionable vulnerability to sharp projectiles. But always one who prefers having a psychological edge over his enemies, Impero demanded information of Angeni's past from his fiancee, his requests for information on the goddess, later confirmed by the League of Shadows' elusive new member known as the Puzzler.

Numerous tactical measures were taken to ensure that the inescapable battle between the League of Shadows and the Justice League would be titled into the favor of the deadly assassins. While absent from the brief yet intense confrontation with a few of the Justice League's members days before, cunning Impero was informed by both Creed and Lady Liberty of the situation, their descriptions specifically focused on Angeni's remarkable display of expertise in hand to hand combat, the prime reason for Impero's brief but effective training of Liberty in the lethal art of swordsmanship. With all the information he had gathered, the deadly strategist was quick to develop a specialized combat suit for the occasion, one that contained an adamantium-vibranium alloy (Trion) in the form of a unique microweave that was specifically designed to raise his physical resistance to those rivaling that of the world's most physically imposing individuals whilst the suit still retains the appearance of his usual attire, with the exception of a darker color. His final preparation for the upcoming battle being the addition of a powerful sonic generator in his expressionless mask should things transition into a more difficult situation with the likes of Angeni. And of course, there is no worthier opponent than Angeni that requires the use of Impero's true martial prowess. "Ms. Kelly, don't forget what you have been taught about sword-fighting, your recently developed skill will serve you well against the JLI", Impero advised, using his mask's technological capabilities to forward the message to Lady Liberty's communicator.

With all the preparation and planning concluded, the manipulative enigma now utilizes his unique mask's technological capabilities to reach the League of Shadows' recognized leader, Jean LeBeau, otherwise known as Gambler. "I do hope you have prepared as extensively as I, Mr. LeBeau. Tis time for our fated encounter with the JLI", and with but a second to spare, the vaunted puppeteer through the use of his suit's teleportation technology, disappears, reappearing in the blink of an eye in the League of Shadows' secluded headquarters, prepared to join with his teammates for a highly anticipated occasion.

JLI headquarters.

Inside Brynhyld's private bed chambers.

14:00 hours.

The auburn haired warrior princess sits at desk with a pen in her hand and large scroll which is rolled out, that she keeps her journal logs scribed upon. She writes her currant thoughts to date, clearing her mind of the fury that inflicts it. It is good for the mind and soul to cleanse ones self of these shadows before they become to many in number to control, the weight of them cause the mind to become overwhelmed with chaos. So she sits and she writes...

"I knew my course. How could I not? I has escaped my infirmities partly through use of the Ebony gemstone known as the hematite or soul stone, but even with that item of focus most of my liberation had come as a result of the training I had received by reading of the O'jahiek Su mystics, an order to which my mother belonged in the northern land known as Geit. If there was more freedom to be found from affliction. I would find it there.

The road was obvious. All my hopes to free myself from the gemstone and the shadow of the thunder god resided in one place to be sure. That place lay to the north and east, through the port city of Jotunheim, around the arm of the mountains and into the frozen desert lands of Geit. There I would find the Dance with Shadows and the O'jahiek Su mystics, there I would strengthen my understanding of the ways of O'jahiek to the point, it was my hope, where I would be free of the shadow. It wasn't just my hope, but my only hope. And therein lay my fear, deep and rooted and pervasive to the point of paralyzing.

I had left port town, banished and glad to be. With war raging between the warlords of Jotunheim there would be no easy passage, of course, but the ease with which I turned away from the road to Geit to the more hospitable lands surprised me, even as I justified it to Angeni and Surkit. Pretty words, grounded in logic and honest fears, made change in course an easy sell to my companions, but no amount of apparent justification could hide the truth from me. I changed course, delayed my journey to Geit and beyond, because I was afraid.

This is no new epiphany. I knew when I changed paths the true reason for my hesitance, it was not based in the many fierce soldiers Geit has spread across the land. Even as I offered that very reason... "too dangerous." to Angeni and Surkit. I recognized the lie, not a lie to them, a lie to myself. And now I accept it, for what is left to me if I travel all the way through the deserts of Geit to the land of the mystics only to find there that there is no deeper understanding to be gained? What is left to me if I learned that I have progressed as far as I can ever hope to climb, that the shadows of the drooling, gibbering doubt will never be more than a stride behind me?

My condition dominates every aspect of my life. Even with the soul stone strapped to my forehead, focusing my line of chi, I wage constant battles of concentration to keep the shadows at bay. I practice for hours everyday, forcing deep-seeded memories into my muscles so that when they are needed they will hopefully heed my call. And yet I know that one slip, one break of concentration, and all of my work will be for naught. I will be deeper than simple vanity or even the price of my own life. I cannot make love to my mate with my mate without fear that I will give birth to a child of similar disability to my own.

My one great hope is to be free of the shadow, to live a normal existence, to have children and raise them strong and healthy. And that one great hope lies in the Dance with Shadows and nowhere else. Is it enough to have hope, even if it is never realized? Would that be a better existence than discovering ultimate futility, that there is no hope? Perhaps that is the secret... the hope... for me and for all Asgardians. I hear the dreams of so many folk, their claims that one day they will go and live quietly in a peaceful place, by a stream or a lake or at the edge of a mighty sea. So many claim those dreams throughout their lives, yet never actually find the time to execute their plans.

Are they afraid, I wonder, as I am afraid? Is it better to have the hope of paradise than to pursue it truthfully and find that it is not what you expected? I laugh at the folly and preposterousness of it all. Despite all of my worries, I am happier than I have ever been. I walk a clear path beside Angeni and Surkit, and am warm and in love with Fenris and loved in return. My road at present is west and south. Not to Dances with Shadows. Not to Geit. Not to the O'jahiek Su mystics. - Brynhyld Troll-Breaker. "

After her writing session is complete Brynhyld relaxes back in her chair and waits for the currant storm to come crashing down, another storm another day, at least this storm was a game of mice for the most part, not the serious stuff she has to deal with on the universal scale, like fending off attacks on Asgard from frost giants, or helping Odin fight Surtur, which she has done on more than one occasion. Walking with mortals is more relaxing then walking with gods, and she kind of looks at her time on Midgard as playing hero, which is amusing if nothing else.

A dark figure darted across the rolling amber plains of Bandari. The skyline of Ushundi reflected the evening sun on the horizon at his back. In his peripheral vision, the man spotted a herd of gazelles running up alongside him. They drew in closer until he was among them, running shoulder to shoulder with the swift creatures. Ahead, his keen eyes spotted the lapse in the waves of dry grass, the sudden edge, and the herd spotted it as well. The creatures rapidly split and ran in opposite directions, parallel to the cliff just inches from the drop itself. The man in black was caught in the middle and dug his heels into the earth, grinding to a halt. A tiny shower of rubble fell to the ground below as he breathed a sigh of relief. It was not so far that he would be unable to survive the fall, but it would be an unpleasant landing.

The man in black peeled the mask from his face, the tired eyes of Akube Mahatu peering out on the glowing horizon, the blood red sun descending into the darkness. He heard the clipping of hooves on stone and looked over to see a gazelle, tall and proud, standing before him. Its herd had long since departed, but it remained by his side. He gave a faint smile and brushed his gloved hand up the length of the noble creature's head, resting between its horns.

The gazelle bowed its head and backed away slightly. Akube sat and hung his legs over the edge of the cliff. He lay back on his hands and stared into the setting sun. He opened a compartment built into the waistline of his suit and pulled out a small white rectangular device. He had given one like it to dozens of people across the world, to call him in a time of need. The most recent recipient was the leader of the International Justice League. It seemed the device was always ringing, that someone always needed the assistance of the bodyguard. He had been offered a place on this Justice League, but he had declined. In his civilian skin, he had sat in on several of the U.N. summits discussing the team's conception, but he was not certain at this time if he should truly stand shoulder to shoulder with its members. What did the old man in this black costume have to offer them, and would he even be able to keep up with them while fighting on other fronts, and upholding the other half of his double life? Those questions would be answered if they called. For the time being, he sat and enjoyed the sweet silence of the device. He took comfort in the feeling that just for this brief window, nobody needed him.

The holographic chessboard of heroes and death-dealers was the only light in the oubliette that Falcon had secured as his base of operations in the chambers of the LoS. His fingers worked effortlessly as he scrolled through various dossiers and files that he compiled on his newest opponents;only stopping when he found a vital piece of information he had overlooked. Patiently he awaited the moments of war,meticulously he planned its details,and vigilantly he watched his opponents. As the months had passed the Paper Ronin acted out several missions that would secure his assassin families success in the upcoming battle against the pristine and delusional "Saviors of the Globe". Through espionage and strategy he acquired blueprints,schematics of important weapons,and even managed to infiltrate the Justice Base to steal an item he viewed as a most valuable asset to his technological advancements. The Horizon of meta-humans clashing was near and the Systematic Shinobi had his pieces in place,weapons edged,and focus intact. As the white-clad killer clutched his fingers together he contemplated which of the righteous fighters he would select as his target. Perhaps the traitor Ethan Starks was a good selection for his lethal talents,or maybe the Shocker Supreme Surkit would be the one he aimed his katana at for a death-blow.

An alert blinked on the screen of the greenish light-display that Ronin watched curiously,signaling the beginning of the end for the International Myriad of Heroes. The newest member of the League of Shadows known as the Puzzler had began to relieve the Justice Squad of their fairly-strong defenses that they stood so confidently behind.Of course the task of eliminating their security would be easy for many of the assassins,but it was better that the duties of war were evenly divided amongst the Greatest Killers of All Time. The alert forced the Paper Ronin from his stagnant state as he lifted himself from his chair and began to gather his gear together in a relaxed manner,ready for anything and everything. In ceremonial fashion he began to dress himself in the garbs of the Moon Cult that displayed him as avatar of Lunar deities,his famed sword hilted and sheathed underneath his long hooded cowl. Once he was fully armored he shut off his computers and began to pray in arabic,this prayer was not one of positive divination but instead a warriors mantra that he repeated to give him vigor and solace for the lives he would usher into the depths of the underworld. His glowing eyes were the only things visible in the damp dungeon.

"فمن أنا الذي يجب أن تكون الآلة، وإخراجهم إلى أنوبيس. يجب دائما الدم الذي سوف صمة عار سيفي أن نتذكر في قاعة الأساطير. بين الرجال، وأنا محارب مع غرض واحد فقط. بين الرجال، وأنا طالب في جدول يوازن النفوس. رب الحرب الذين لا يوجد لديه تمييز بين الرجل وثير المسارات. أعوذ الموت."

*Translation: It is I who shall be their reaper and bring them forth to anubis. The blood that will stain my sword shall forever be remembered in the hall of legends. Amongst men,I am a warrior with only one purpose. Amongst men,I am the seeker of the scale that balances souls. A lord of war who has no discrimination for men and thier paths. I seek death.

In a gust of wind the Paper Ronin was gone and sent into the fray,hoping his blade would meet with one worthy of its grace.

{So you wanna run around in spandex, I’m not judging but that’s mad gay} The A.I added his input as the pilots of the Editman sat around the board table. “Mute” Paige answered, trying to actually get some work done. “We’ve reached a pivotal point in our companies growth, Gabe is currently aligned with the We Are Legend Team, and I myself am currently joining the Justice League” though she could see the doubt on the faces of her pilots; she spoke in such a definitive voice that none of them openly questioned it at that time.

“What does this mean for Apex? One of the pilots asked. “This means that everything we do from now on has to be top-notch, it means we’re pushing our company further into the mainstream world” she said, folding her legs.

“Whoa… well you might want to first start by putting on some drawers ma’am, I don’t think any amount of PR could fix that sh!t” Gabe said, turning away. The embarrassed admin unfolded her legs and pulling down on her snug skirt.

“I want everyone’s suits freshly polished and all brought up to date with the Mach IV.3 upgrades.” Pushing away from the “E” shaped table, she drew there attention to a dry erase boards. “Thermal Energy converters, Signal converters, howling sky rockets, EMP protection modules, more up armor, expanded 50. Cal capability; incendiary, and willie P grenades, Freeze capabilities; Mortars and most of all Mk19 capability” she said, with a smile on her face. {B!tch this aint no transformer?} Jeeves said, sighing over the amount of work they had to do.

“Jeeves has shipment for upgrades come in yet?”

{They came in just yesterday”} he responded, {Leave me alone for a little bit, I’m trying to cross circuits with this foxy ass refrigerator}. Gabe, Mac and Paige glanced at each other completely weirded out. “Alright, get to work on installing these upgrades”

“Wait, where are the people who usually install them?” Gabe asked; a bit angered. “They are all off for some sort of Arab holiday” she responded, by taking a seat.

“Arab? They’re all Mexican!” Mac screamed, “Stop ya b!tching and get your ass out there and install those upgrades”.

Glancing out the window; as they completely rebuilt the industrial complex they had been using for their company building; she was finally on pace to compete with the biggest and baddest of corporations. Everything had a price as she was finding out the hard way, the Death of Editman Sean Smith; was the deciding factor that put Thermal energy on the map.

{Are you sure joining the Justice League is a good move} her trusted A.I system asked in all sincerity. “Jeeves…I watched personally as my husband had his neck broken…I won’t allow it to happen to another” as she spoke she was fixing the new fin stabilized firing mechanism from her Editman to her arm measurements.

{There’s a storm coming…Paige…} Jeeves said, once again in all sincerity. “Then it’s time to pull out the rain coats”. She responded, while closing Jeeves protocols and entering the suit chamber.

“Aria change my Editman strategy from defensive to offensive, make Mac upgrade it with all available firepower”. Aria was a more competent female version of Jeeves; Jeeves was usually preferred because of his ability to adapt in certain situations; pretty much Aria is a house slave.

(Mrs.Smith I scanned the area for any signs of thermal energy usage and I found one under the code name: Black Republican.)

“Thanks Aria, log it in the database, I’ll look into it when I return” getting atop the platform; the metallic Editman fixed to her body even giving her boobs a place to rest. “Editman to the Justice League I’m en route”.

The suits rockets fired up and sent Paige through the retractable roof, there was indeed a storm coming.

Conceivably the greatest connoisseur of informational trafficking in the World had lent his immeasurable talents, for a cost, to the League of Shadows. Easily orchestrating technological terrorism, tactically assaulting the Justice League through a series of cloaked maneuvers via cyberspace. Breaking down military grade firewalls with meticulous machinations of engineering. The keyboard cowboy known simply as, The Puzzler, had all but handed the keys to the JLI's front door to the ruthless collection of cutthroats as they acculturated their implications of war.

"Gambler, I pinpointed the location. The bases teleporter should be operational by now, when I say so you and the team will jump into it, that should get you inside.On the hud screens back at base you should be getting some useful information on your soon to be opponents, use it wisely." The masterminds voice visually displayed as an audio wave across the holographic three dimensional screen of the Cajun's Arcadian cave. Secluded in secrecy beneath the foundation of the LoS Monastery, the assassin had relocated his technological masterpiece incorporating the stolen automations of some of the Word's most exciting cutting edge operational tech, monitoring, and security operations. Its innovating applied digital science had kept the Aristocratic Assassin two steps ahead of his opponents and three ahead of the World's Superpowers. Howbeit, proving to clever for his own good, the preeminent saviors of truth and justice had anticipated his operational outline piggy backing of the Arcadian's digital fingerprint tracing it back to the LoS instillation. Its precise location now distributed globally to the hero organizations allies and U.N. power-brokers. Enabling the JLI to expose the Cajun's clandestine organization to the World.

Completely unaware of the cunning exploitation of his bases location the assassin proceeded as planned. Downing his customary black vibranium woven battle suit, his mask hanging off the back of his shoulders like a hood, the LeBeau Legend sent out his final correspondence, "Brothers, Sisters, today we write ourselves into dee history of empires as he topple dee symbol of capitalist imperialism, dee Justice League. Justice for who? Not us? Not our way of life. We didnt start dis! We didnt dispatch traitors into dee homes of our enemies. Snaking their way through our privacy with venomous intent. No, dat is not our way. Today we show dee World true Justice, our Justice. And it starts with dee eradication of those who dare call dhemselves heroes." pausing as he slowly slid his mask into position, he then continued. "You're all well versed in your implementation of strategic warfar, you've proposed, you've mapped, you've cycled through endless variations of dee same combat equation for months. I'll not give you orders, I'll not lead dee charge of those capable of ruling countries, no my friends, I wouldnt devalue your intelligence like dat. I'll simply tell you dat for those who require it, dhere is a teleportation device inside dee LoS monastery. Its coordinates have already been established thanks to our friend dee Puppet Master. So go forth and help usher in an age of retribution. Dhey lit dee fire, but we are DRAGONS! AND DRAGONS CANNOT BE BURNED!"

Trailed by an entourage of shadowy cloaked assassins Jean Luc made his way to the icy tarmac. Boarding the blacked out Ukrainian Antonox An-225 cargo jet, the largest such plane in production, before lift off. Dispensing the flight plan to the pilots they reluctantly hesitated before questioning their employer, "Sir, these bearings will take us straight over...." his concern cut short as the Cajun raised his finger to his mouth calling for silence. "I know where dee lead Captain. Now if you dont..." dismissing him with a wave as he sat back meditating.

Heavy turbulence woke the Living Legend as chaos erupted inside the plane. "We're taking heavy fire! You need to jump now sir!!!" The planes back end slowly dropping open inviting the winds violent wraith inside as the assassins inched towards the edge, no visible parachutes strapped to their persons. His posture strong, his hand balled in a first above his head, Jean Luc motioned forward before allowing the roaring gusts to sweep his body out into the clouds, his faithful killers right behind him. Screaming through the air with their hands at their sides like a pack of starved Ravens they plummeted towards their target. Flashing their arms outwards exposing the canopy themed fabric between the body and underarms as well as between the legs. Creating enough drag to slow their decent while maintaining a level of untraceable speed. Pulling ahead, refusing to initiate the wingsuits flaps, the self-proclaimed King of Kings continue to aim towards a predetermined location. Waiting until the last possible moment to open his arms wide just barely skimming over the top of a grazing heard of Antelope streaming in a straight line with bedazzling agility and aerobatic precision.

Bursting out of his harness unbelievably hitting the ground in a full sprint he darted across the drought ravaged surface clutching the hilt of his sheathed blade horizontally strung behind his waste. Its unmistakable reverberation resonating throughout the amber plains as it was unsheathed fluently. In the same motion Jean twirled the sword between his fingers before slicing towards the peacefully rested black clad protector of Bandari.

The steel of her arrowhead caught the unrelenting light of the sun as it twirled between her fingers. Brief glimpses of her reflection registered on the polished edge. By sundown, this arrow would be covered in blood. The black wraps around her hands would be soaked in red. By the dawn of the next day, the sand beneath her feet would be glass. There was only one man who could justify this to her. There was only one man for whom she would burn down the world. But she was not on her way to kill that man. She was being sent by her leash holders to kill heroes, people who had no desire but to make the world a better place. Whether their approach was right or not would be determined by history, but she had no reason to make war with them. Still, she reminded herself why she had clawed her way up the mountains to the doors of the Monestary, why she had sought help from the League of Shadows. For him. So that she could stand over him and he would no, as he shattered in her hands, that this was justice.

If the League demanded the fall of these heroes, if she had to obey a clan of murderers to repay her debt and become the one who would finally destroy her demon and all those like him, then the lives of those who stood in her path were forfeit. His miserable end would justify theirs. At the end, when they bled side by side, and she closed her eyes, accepting that the war was over, it would all be worth it. It would all be worth it for justice. For rest.

"Madam," called a voice from up above. She looked up from her knelt position in the sand to see one of the faceless assassins assigned to her, clad in the same color as the sand that surrounded them on all sides. "We are ready to move, Madam."

"Please," she answered passively, pulling the edge of her black and white keffiyeh over her head, "Call me Jade." She rose up, shaking sand from the folds of her flowing brown robe. The keffiyeh sloped around her neck, covering her mouth and shading her eyes from the sun. She moved up the dune, passing the assassin. Others sat further down on the slope and sprung to their feet, following silently in her footsteps. The one who had spoken to her threw open his tan covering and drew an assault rifle. He fired it over his head in three short bursts and continued on with the group.

A short time later, they looked down upon the base of the International Justice League. Jade's eyes narrowed, piercing the stark shadow of her keffiyeh. "Prepare yourselves." she said. On her word, the sand-colored assassins darted out across the dunes, rolling down and sprawling themselves out on the sand. Even though she had seen them take their positions, Jade could no longer see them herself. Were they not assassins, she would admire them. Still, when her debt to the League was repaid, they would all burn.

Jade stood alone on the high dunes outside of the Justice League headquarters. She reached inside her robe and drew a bag of blood. She took a knife and sliced open the bag, pouring the blood over herself and on the sand around her. She rubbed it on her hands and applied minor details to ensure that it looked convincing, at least from the necessary distance. She limped down the slope, faltering on her feet as she staggered into the perimeter of the base's surveillance system. Finally, she collapsed, only a few yards short of the base. She flattened her arm against the sand, concealing the knife beneath. She lay on a hidden quiver of arrows, a bow buried in the sand alongside one of the assassins. She felt disgusting preying upon the mercy of these people, but reminded herself. Life was not just, that much she was certain of. Their blood. His blood. In the treacherous path that lay before her, one would have to come before the other.

Splintered fragments of light spread across the polished wooden floor of the office atop champion tower, the office of Edward Windsor. The prince sat at his computer his head low as he typed away on his holo-pad. The day to day running of a team. The bills, the obligations and research becoming a never ending chore upon his shoulders. Glancing over at his office door he catches a glint of fractured light in his eyes. The bright glow shooting across the room like a beam breaking the shadow cast around him at his desk. Edward stood up and looked across the darkness of is office the small amount of light almost pointing him towards the door and source of the beam like glow, his Justice league armour still unused in the field.

Edward appears in the lobby of the Justice league freshly teleported from his office walking slowly to his other office the champion see's none of his new team mates as he strolls this new base as cold and without the life of others at the moment as he had just be in. Turning on his pc in his second office he looked at himself in the reflection of the screen his new costume still didn't look right it didn't feel like him. "Give it a chance" he said to himself as the screen finally booted up. Looking down at the keys of his keyboard as his fingers hoovering just above a siren bursts out filling the quiet corridors with noise and flashing lights. Looking down at the screen once again a face appears upon his monitor one the champion neither recognised nor liked the look of. The screen suddenly splits(down the middle) the face of the unknown man covering the left half of if like some kind of weird screensaver and what appeared to be a live video feed from what the prince could only assume was the front of the building due to what appeared to be the steps.

Looking at the video carefully he watched as the woman in shot limped gingerly towards the front door noticing she appeared to be bleeding heavily the champion grabbed a nearby med-kits and rushed towards the front of the building ,his mind racing at rate that even his feet couldn't match " Attacking communications is usually the first step in a major assault, what could be coming" Stepping out of the front door and approaching the downed woman he bends down and begins to speak " Who are you, what happened and how did you find this place" taking a glance at what appeared to be a wound he noticed immediately something was up, the blood seemed to be drying and not flowing. The little field medic training the prince had had told him all was not as it seemed. Dropping the med-kit in his left hand behind his back the champion covered himself in a thin telekinetic shield and reached to roll the unknown woman over.

Mark was in the training room. As this was the first time he had worn the new suit, he was trying to test it. His helmet technology had been miniaturised into a simple eye-mask, and the hood was specially designed not to interfere with his peripheral vision. The green suit incorporated armour on his shins and forearms. It felt bulky and unusual, but he worked with it. The computer had created a simulated scenario involving both ranged and close-quarters combat.

Computer-generated enemies littered the landscape, "protecting" Mark's target. He crouched behind a slightly glitchy rock, where a simulated duplicate of the Revenant already waited. He pulled a sniper rifle from his back and twisted a suppressor onto the end. Leaning up slightly so that his eyes peeked over the top of the rock, and the last few inches of the barrel extended beyond it, he felt the Dragunov's trigger guard with his index finger as he cycled through to infra-red viewing on his scope, but not the mask. He hadn't tried it and didn't yet trust the lab guys' tech. The last thing he wanted was the mask short-circuiting and blowing up on his face. He picked his target, strafing the crosshairs over the center of his cranium, just above the ear a few times. His finger snaked inside the guard, and took up pressure on the trigger. With a muzzle flash and a muffled bang, the virtual man went down in a spray of unconvincing blood. Quickly, Mark took out the second sniper before he knew anything had happened. This one screamed once, the short sharp sound splitting the stillness. The Baron of Bullets froze, watching as a third poked his head out of a window. He nearly took the shot, cycling back to regular viewing, and taking his finger off the trigger so that the civilian did not go down. Such things were unacceptable. Placing the rifle back over his shoulder, he tossed a leg over the Revenant, and it started on the first try. "Phone, Marksman." A computerised voice said in his ear.

"Patch it through." He ordered, the microphone by his mouth carrying the message. The sound of the line opening was almost drowned out by a loud scream, a voice Mark would know anywhere. "Hey there kiddo." He chuckled, leaning over the handlebars.

"Uncle Mark, don't call me 'kiddo'. I'm fourteen, I'm not a little kid anymore." A female voice said, as Mark approached a cliff. "Are-are you working?" She asked, concerned.

"No, Syd, I'm just training. Nothing to worry about." He replied, grunting as the bike went airborne. "Did you want something?" He was slightly worried now. He was getting distracted as his mind filled with thoughts of his niece. The other end of the gap was approaching quick.

"Yeah. Someone promised me a shooting lesson, remember?" As she said it, Mark grimaced, then yelled as he nearly bailed from his bike. "Ohmygod, are you OK?" She screamed.

"I'm fine Sydnee, just a close call, that's all." He wrestled the bike back under control, then jumped up so his feet were on the seat, but his hands still held their grip on the handlebars. "I'm sorry, kid. I've been working and training so hard, I completely forgot. I'll just wrap some stuff up here at the base, and I'll be on the next flight out. I'll see you tomorrow, if all goes to plan." As she screamed in excitement, she hung up. Mark heard Fran just before the phone was put down. A moment later, he jumped. The bike eliminated two targets, crushed against a wall. In the air, he drew the deadly scimitars he was known for. The three men stayed warily on the edges of his defense, but one of them could not retreat quickly enough when he landed. He received a strong slash to the thigh, one that would severely hamper his ability to move. Stepping in, Mark ended his computer-generated life, and turned to face the other two.

One held a grenade in one hand and Mark's target in the other. "You move, we all die!" He yelled hysterically.

"I think not." Mark replied, taking a step. The man's heart was fluttering like a butterfly, sweat covered his forehead, and he was shaking. He wasn't going to pull the pin. He never saw Mark move. Never saw him pull the dagger. Never saw it fly. Never saw it pierce his forehead. Closing the distance, Mark retrieved the knife and stared down the last survivor. He inhaled, then let fly with the blood-stained blade. It impaled the man through the throat. Mark picked up the target. "Simulation end." He ordered. He exited the training room. The scientists stood outside the room. "Nice work." He said, turning away.

Alarms blared, alerting the Shotgun Samurai to an individual at the front of the building. Sprinting, he found Edward Windsor crouching over a prone figure. He had no doubt he had more field medic experience than his fellow Englishman. He knelt by Edward and gestured. "May I? Sorry if I'm intruding, but this is sort of one of my areas of expertise." He looked over her back. He couldn't see any breaks in the skin, no reason for the blood. The blood itself...He ran a finger over it experimentally. It was drying rapidly. It wasn't hers. No way. But still...He knew she had been limping. He tested her legs with his hands, carefully, so as not to cause undue pain. He could find no damage, at least none that could be detected. He waited for Edward to roll her over, ready to spring should it be necessary. "Careful, Windsor. This could be a trap." He warned.

Jade knew that this was the time. No hesitation. Her leg shot up, aimed to strike the second man's chin with her heel and send him falling back into the arms of an assassin who had snaked around behind them, knife drawn and ready. The serpent immediately sprung up on her feet and her fist collided with the first man's face. But not quite. She felt it deflect off, as if she had struck some invisible buffer that surrounded him. No matter. By now, the assassins had burst from the sands, blades drawn. She put up her hand to the one who would kill the gunslinger and he stopped just short of killing him, resting the knife against his neck instead.

Eight of them closed in to form a circle around the invincible man, swords pointed inward allowing him very little room to breathe. Three others went to their comrade who held the knife to the other man's throat. Two took positions at either side of him, reaching out to take hold of one of his arms. With their free hands, one set the tip of his sword to the man's rib cage, and the other held an assault rifle against his side. The third stood in front of the gunslinger, positioning the flat of his blade over his forearm, the point of the weapon aimed for his abdomen.

The remainder of the assassins stood behind Jade as she pulled down her keffiyeh, revealing her face. The wind pulled her silken black hair, the long tail that went down to her waist dancing in the desert breeze. The red eyepiece that covered her left eye only added to the intimidation in her eyes, the fire in her visage. She drew an arrow herself and aimed it at the gunslinger's head, all the while staring down the invincible man. "Surrender yourself," she ordered, pulling the string a fraction tighter, "Or he will be the first of today's casualties."

The Eye

Majestically ominous red eyes stare down at a miniscule Bishop as he runs in the dark. A howling laughter closing in from all sides as it's origin gapes unknowingly ahead of him. He runs into the maw and is swallowed whole. BREEP BREEP The reformed leader jerks upward out of his rest, beads of sweat running down his face as his palms feel the stale wet mattress in the centrally cooled room. "Sir, the team have all teleported in. They're waiting in the justice department" The receptionist states before flicking out of the video screen. The Justice department was the main meeting area, with a seat for the exact amount of members plus one

The doors spread wide in all directions like a camera shutter as Bishop steps in to see the randomized faces of his team and hear the mesh of audible noise. He takes a seat and claps his hands together. "Settle down everybody, this meeting is in order." He slides them all files then clasps his hands, "These are the targets we've met so far. With the help of Ethan Starks, we've compiled a decent amount of data on Lebeau, his apparently newest wife, A man named Impero, and a handful of others. It's not a lot but it is enough" Stands in full form and walks over to the body sized window with a view of the small blue and green planet. "These terrorists have shown time and time again they have a predilection for striking first and aiming for the heart" he thinks back to the moment time stopped, as he saw a young girl he called his daughter, mercilessly have her blood spilled on the steel floors of The Mirage, taking a glimpse at Adonia for a moment then looking back out the window.

"We need to handle this with intellect and precision. Bodyguard(Akube), I need you to take perimeter watch. Marksman, your our best man with a gun. I want you on his shoulder like a conscience. Edward, I need a man on the ground who can lead while we're up here.To top it off we have Editman coming in as air support." He sits looking the three in the eyes, "I won't sugar coat it, you guys are on the front lines with enemies on all sides. If you three accept, we'll have your back at a moments notice, but know there is a high level of risk...Your essentially bait" The three take a look at each other for a moment then back at their leader,Edward speaks for them "Can't be any worse than leading COP's right?" Bishop smirks at the commendable attitude of Edward, and nods at the other two in appreciation of their service. "Now, you two port back down to The Mirage, Edward, we need this to look like the daily routine, so head back to the COP HQ and wait for an hour, do work whatever, just be usual."

"The rest of us, we're going to be here watching like a hunter with a rifle. They will make a coupe de gra move within this week. They'll think we're still reeling from the last attack. This gives us the element of surprise. I want you all to go to your rooms here, now. Assemble your weapons, gadgets, whatever. Pray if you have to. This going to get bloody"

1 HOUR LATER...

The control room is dimly lit as the screens light encompasses Bishop, watching the straggling woman below with high anxiety. He leans forward, rotating a circular dial, stopping at the woman standing on the dune 10 minutes prior, pouring blood on herself. Son of a bitch... He mumbles before pressing his tooth comm wit a stiff bite down "Everybody, man a port station and wait for my order to move." The two Co-leader views the situation waiting for the perfect moment, when the enemies confidence is highest

The Keresh Outcast stood alone in his room, he'd checked his gear a thousand times it seemed, he was ready. Dawning the reinforced body suit he'd crafted, a modified version of his Keresh Commando armor more suited to his new professions as an assassin. Placing a pair of heavy pistols in their respective holsters. Picking up the hilt of his wakazashi, testing it to make sure it worked, the nanites housed inside assembling the blade without a hitch. Placing it in it's designated spot horizontally along his back, roughly waist level.

Turning to his bed he quietly walk over without making a sound, hoping not to wake it's sleeping occupant. He leaned down, kissing his lover, Andromeda, the granddaughter of Kaligar Roxom, on the cheek, placing a note on the bedside table before going to rendezvous with the others.

Airplanes... shaking his head and chuckling at the thought. A few years before he'd been riding heavily armed drop ships down from orbit to assault unsuspecting world light years from this back water ball of dust, now he was headed towards yet another battle, in something he wasn't entirely sure wouldn't simple plummet from the sky. He glanced out the window at the expansive dessert below, in the distance he could see the target. Looking down the row of seats he saw the youngest member of the League of Shadows, the young girl, Jade. Sitting away from the others. The hatred she carried with her all to evident in her eyes. So much hate in one so young was strange to him... but her problems weren't the issue at hand.

The jump light was switched to standby by the pilot and they all rose. Moments later they were free falling, the wing suits built into their uniforms slowing their descent, hitting the coarse dessert sand in a sprint he continued on ahead of the other assassins, his personal cloaking device obscuring him from sight and detection.

Moments Later Outside the JLI Headquarters

Two members of the JLI had fallen for the trap, being surrounded by numerous assassins, Jade calling for their surrender. He'd chosen to remain concealed, ready to leap into action if need be. He recognized one of the men from the dossiers they'd been give, Edward Windsor. Far more than your average do gooder, a venerable super soldier in his own right. The other man appeared to be no more than a simple mercenary.

Seconds seemed like hours as he waited for one of the two to make a move, give him a reason to show his teammates the true killing potential of a Keresh warrior. The wakazashi whistling through the air as he twirled it in his hand. Playing out the fight his head as he circled the group like a wolf, menacing blue eyes trained on his prey.

Desert, Sahara

Helena collapsed onto her knees while blood began to drip from her face and onto the hot sands. "Did you really think you could beat me again?I have bested a thousand monsters with my bare hands." Hercules said, pounding his chest with his gauntlets. In Greek myth, Heracles was the demigod son of Zeus and a mortal woman named Alcmene, who is the granddaughter of Perseus. Heracles was blessed with unnatural strength from birth. He was outright hated by Zeus' wife, Hera, who drove him to madness as he grew into adulthood. This madness led him to commit the murder of his wife, Megara, and his two sons. Seeking atonement for his atrocious deed, the king Eurystheus assigned Heracles to perform ten labors, but cheated him into doing two more. Heracles, however, had finished all these labors (mainly using his wit) and found redemption. Heracles had many more adventures, but was ultimately killed by his own wife Deianara, ascending to Olympus as he died. "Uncle......I do not wish to fight you.......I know you are being controlled by Clarice..but you must fight it." Helena said, trying to reason with him as she pulled herself up. "Enough talk. I will call this my thirteenth and final labor. Soon I will become the greatest Olympian and claim Athens for myself!" Hercules laughed and commanded a group of undead soldiers to attack the wounded goddess.

After Helena kills all of his undead soldiers, Hercules decides to fight her himself using the Gauntlets of Hercules. Helena however, stabs him in the arm and takes the pair of Gauntlets one by one. Hercules then fights Helena unarmed. "I don't need those to kill you!" Hercules shouted. After a long and fierce fight, Helena slams the gauntlets into the ground to create an explosive wave which resulted with Hercules going unconscious.

After defeating Hercules for the second time, Helena quickly took a small cube out from her breastplate and ate it. Ambrosia is the food of the gods. It is also used for healing by demigods and Gods. If a mortal eats it, they would be incinerated. A demigod and God can eat a little, but taking an overdose could make them feverish. A huge overdose would cause them to incinerate as a mortal would.

As the goddess walked, the hot sand rubbed against her. Sand dunes surrounded her as she was in the middle of a vast desert. "If the League of Shadows wish to fight me then the place shall be here." She whispered to herself.

"Training is over.." Josh said as he slipped his new assassins suit on. "Training is over.." He said once more while putting his mask on, assassins dropped from the ceiling of the dojo, each equipped with a multitude of deadly weapons. One of them blindly lunge towards Josh, he smirked and blocked the blade with his metal wrist guard, punishing the attempted decapitator with a fist to the elbow, breaking it. "Training...IS OVER!" He yelled as he performed a perfect back flip over to an unsuspecting recruit and snapped his neck with the feet that landed on his shoulders, the other assassins started to hurl shuriken as the new master assassin. Josh lifted the now dead recruit with ease and used him as a meat shield while charging over to the projectile throwing assassins, he threw the corpse at the one to his left and delivered a series of heavy blows to the chest and finally a killing jab to the eye socket for the one on his right. The left assassin was busy stumbling as the corpse hit him, right before he was to fall on his back Josh pushed him down even faster by the chest. The recruits spine was to be met with Josh's knee and caused it to break completely. Another assassin charged towards Josh with a battle axe and swung for his legs, Josh simply responded with flipping onto the axe and placing his feet on each side of the handle, allowing it to spin and decapitate the assassin.  
 
Josh landed on his feet and dusted off his hands, he could't help but to grin at his new physical prowess. He came in here a meaningless brat, and now is a deadly example of what the league of shadows can make a man become. "Heh...Training is over.." he said once more and left the dojo. Josh paced he hallways of the temple and pushed his ear against the comm device located in his mask. "Puzzler, any word on the progress of the assault?" He asked the keyboard Oz, to which he replied, "The defenses are lowered, now is the league's chance to slice off the head of the JLI..". Josh smirked and sprinted to where Gambler was assembling the rest of the graduated assassins and listened to his speech.  
 

"Brothers, Sisters, today we write ourselves into dee history of empires as he topple dee symbol of capitalist imperialism, dee Justice League. Justice for who? Not us? Not our way of life. We didnt start dis! We didnt dispatch traitors into dee homes of our enemies. Snaking their way through our privacy with venomous intent. No, dat is not our way. Today we show dee World true Justice, our Justice. And it starts with dee eradication of those who dare call dhemselves heroes." . "You're all well versed in your implementation of strategic warfar, you've proposed, you've mapped, you've cycled through endless variations of dee same combat equation for months. I'll not give you orders, I'll not lead dee charge of those capable of ruling countries, no my friends, I wouldnt devalue your intelligence like dat. I'll simply tell you dat for those who require it, dhere is a teleportation device inside dee LoS monastery. Its coordinates have already been established thanks to our friend dee Puppet Master. So go forth and help usher in an age of retribution. Dhey lit dee fire, but we are DRAGONS! AND DRAGONS CANNOT BE BURNED!"

Deep underground I waited. Surrounded by thick dull rock and thousands of tons of pressure, I was alone but it wasn’t dark. Various types of radiation shimmered around me and the sounds of the earth filled my ears.

A thousand feet above me Angeni struggled with Hercules; the clash of the mighty battle reverberated down even here. Though I could not see her in the visible spectrum she was a bright figure in the rest of the EMP spectrum.

Soon it would be time to strike. As the battle was joined I was uniquely positioned to ambush Angeni, Brynhyld and Rake. Flying bricks always struck from the sky. After all we were ‘flying’ bricks. This time I would strike from underground, the one angle no one should expect. My three rivals in the JLI would hardly expect it either.

They were powerful and worthy foes, each of them a god or empowered with the strength of a god. Each one skilled to an almost supernatural level, and each one possessing versatile equipment. Likely all of them were far older and more experienced them me.

Worst of all was the location. Inside the atmosphere of the earth I was limited by the collateral damage. While the Sahara was isolated I still had to limit myself to speeds slower then .10c. While that was still likely faster than anything I was likely to face here, it still frustrated me to be forced to hold back in my largest battle yet.

Having to pull your punches while slugging it out with another god was aggravating to me on a primal level. It went against all my instincts. I wanted to ATTACK, fast and violent the in the way I was taught. Restraining myself wasn’t natural for me.

At the same time I felt excited. At last I would be able to test myself against the best the JLI had to offer in a massive free for all. Soon I would find out what they had to offer, and try my intelligence and imagination. My wits would be important here, perhaps more so than my brawn.

And my wits were ready.

Trion whipple shields surrounded me, carefully calibrated in multiple layers to defend against bladed weapons. Magical blades and arrows were my primary concern. Each layer of Trion was an invisible sheet of particles slightly harder than adamantine, which absorbed energy the same as vibranium. A blow that cut though one would be deflected just slightly and have some of its energy absorbed until it touched the next layer where it would be deflected and slowed again. More than a dozen microscopic layers protected me, but I knew that alone would not win the battle.

In my right fist I gripped a meter long blade of Trion. Sharp as the devil himself, and charged with a massive electrical current it would be my primary melee weapon in this battle. There were some things it wouldn’t cut though, such as Angeni’s bracers, but being a little harder than adamantine it should cut though almost anything. It should make up for having to pull my punches in atmosphere, and be a surprise.

All of that might not be enough, though. The number of gods and powerful heroes on the JLI was great and even with all my power they could still defeat me. In particular I was worried about being teleported out of the battle field, and I resolved to stay aware and alert for any such attack.

That temptation to attack at full speed was there within me, but I quashed it. That was only pride speaking, and such things had to be kept under control. I was here to save the world, not damage it further out of misguided ego.

No, my powers would stay in check for this battle.

Nomad stood arms crossed as Jean Luc Lebeau, better known as Gambler gave his speech. As Gambler finished, Nomad cracked a devious, sinister smile from the corner of his mouth. Mr. Lebeau and the League of Shadows had a quality which not a single of Nomad's previous masters has shared; he was treated like more than just a mindless tool but rather as an asset with a unique skill set. Nomad could be anybody on the face of the planet, there was not a single installation that he could not infiltrate. He was the perfect spy, an even better assassin and the League of Shadows was his home. He would die for his team, but not before he gave total hell to the JLI. Despite being controlled by the LoS through the Lost Amulet, Nomad still possessed his own plan to cause his own blend of chaos. He would operate away from the rest of the team, drawing as much attention as he could and the easiest way to do that was to appear as their leader, the genius Gambler.

Nomad began to shif his massive clay-like body shrinking in height and size. His body changing colour to the exact shade of Mr. Lebeau's own skin, as well as a perfectly fitting tuxedo. Nomad took a glance in a nearby mirror, "Don't you look absolutely stunning" he said in Mr. Lebeau's flowing cajun accent. He was the perfect carbon copy of Gambler, even his finger prints were a perfect match. Hopefully the boss-man wouldn't mind Nomad's temporary new look, a look that would cause grave confusion for the JLI and would making team's already challenging mission just a little bit easier. He walked towards the teleporter casually and was gone.

Just outside the JLI base

Nomad stood just outside the main door of the JLI base, some of his teammates had already managed to infiltrate the base. Now it was time to cause some real chaos and confusion, now it was time to finally show his team what he could do, it was time to push his abilities to their limit and really see what he could do. The lost golem laid his hand on a crease on the outside of the door, his hand turning almost into a liquid and slithering into the crease. This process flowed up his arm, passed his shoulder and down the rest of his body. On the other side of the door, what was Nomad's hand came out, bending over like play-doh and touching the floor, the rest of his substance coming behind him, building his body from the feet up until he was Gambler once again. Now it was a waiting game, surely it would only be a matter of time before he was noticed by a member of the JLI. He would imitate his leader to the best of his ability, as acting was a natural skill of his and when the time was right he would reveal his true self and strike fear into the hearts of the JLI.

A bright screen lit up in a room clouded in utter darkness. It displayed a tactical map of Chicago, marked with the positions of dozens of beings. A second screen came up, wiring the feed from a traffic camera in Washington, D.C. A limo with the words 'RossCorp' emblazoned on the side came to a stop. Out of the darkness surrounding the screens, a tall figure emerged. A face that had witnessed the deaths of entire bloodlines. He had many names. Lucifer. Genghis Khan. Julius Caesar. The Deceiver. However, throughout the eons, only one name had remained in his mind. A name that kept his sense of self-identity intact.

Ivan.

Attached to his ear was a communication device. His lips parted, letting forth a voice that carried the tone of an age-old emperor, yet retained the tempered wisdom of a middle-aged soldier. "Report. How goes the situation with Ross?" A female voice spoke into the device in his ear. "Not well, Sir. Ross has still failed to resolve the situation with subject 1146 and Longshot. Both are still at large, and all signs indicate that Horizon still has its leader." Ivan frowned, clasping his arms behind his back. "Is Moses available?" There was a pause. "Yes, Sir. Mr. Moses has just completed a contract in Somalia." Ivan stepped up to the screens, calling up a third. Tapping it, he took several moments to estimate a wide range of variables and gather details. "Very well. Contact Moses and patch him through."

"Right away, Sir."

“Ah.. Ivan. What’s it been, a decade or two?” Ivan’s facial features did not alter. He held a sort of respect for this man, but he was pressed for time. “Six years. I have another job for you. Victor has outlived his usefulness to me, and Horizon’s leader is getting to be a nuisance. I will pay you your usual fee to eliminate Ross. It will be doubled if you manage to kill Horizon’s leader. Triple if you destroy Horizon completely.” Ivan had already switched the screens to a different set of information. “Do we have a deal?” Ivan could almost hear the man’s facial features stretch into a grin. “Of course we do. I’ll take care of it.” He hung up, leaving Ivan to examine the information in front of him.

Ivan crossed his arms in front of him, examining the details on the screens. Satisfied that he had that situation under control, he switched the information on the screens to deal with a more pressing matter. "Now that the matter of dealing with Ross is completed, we're moving on. The League is beginning its attack on the Justice League. It would appear that my.. associates have already engaged in combat with some of the JLI’s members.” His hands glided across the screens, bringing up a set of faces. For several minutes, he examined the information his databank had on each one. Finally, he made a decision.

As he turned to leave for the teleporters, only one screen remained on. Pulled up was the image of a blonde-haired man in a garish outfit. As the teleporter began to light up, the screen turned off.

Angels cry when the devil goes to war. Night will fall and drown the sun when the devil goes to war. Dreams die and nightmares fly. Night will fall and the dark will rise when the devil goes to war. Heroes fight but count the cost; the battle's lost and the Earth is doomed.

MONARCH

Iberian Empire

The Eye

What a way to start his first few days on the team. He joins the illustrious Justice League International only to find they are about to go to war with some of the deadliest enemies they have faced. Not that he was scared, not by any means, but just had no time to prepare with his new comrades. He didn't know any strategies for the team or their tendencies during battle. He just had to rely on his experience in battle to guide him through the upcoming altercation between the two groups. Who would have guessed that it would all start out like this, but none of that mattered. It was time to get mentally and physically prepared for war.

Strafe sat in his new quarters in the metallic base of the JLI. He wondered if they League of Shadows even had information on him considering his short time on the team. Though he had only been in the game for a year or so before training with the mighty god Posieden, he had no doubt that the menacing Gambler knew of him. If not, it was only an advantage Strafe could hope for. He slowly walked across the room while in deep places of his mind. He always seemed to pace when discerning the strategy he will take for battle. It always helped to clear his mind before such a huge conflict.

He eventually decided that sitting around wasn't getting much done, so he walking to the door with the sound of his feet hit metal trailing him. He moved as if he had a life or death decision on his hands, but that was just the way he was. There was no way not to be concerned about the League of Shadows. Their deadly roster's abilities would make any veteran hero worry. He wondered what his former friend and teammate, Gerald, would do.

The sound of cautious conversation hit his ears as he found his new found leader Surkit. He then heard the mans message come through and grimaced. It's started and he needed to be ready. It didn't take long for the realization of current events to race through Strafe's mind, immediately making him thinking of the two teammates in the hall. Not only was that suspicious, but it was a perfect distraction for ambush. Knowing the Hero's love for people would be a easy distraction for a assassin. He turned to Surkit with a concerned look "I have a bad feeling about that woman. I think their in danger." He said staring at the bright screen. "I'll be glad to back them up, just give the order." He said immediately looking at their surroundings and figuring out where they were. He bit down on his newly acquired communicator and talked calmly. "Be careful with that woman, it looks as if that could be a trap." He said hoping that they would realize in time.

Times like this made him thank Zeus for his gifts of wisdom and strategy. Without those blessings, he would have been dead long ago.

"Perhaps it is because in order to simply survive the life I was born into I had to remain so much more in tune with the workings of my body, or perhaps it was my mother's training, but whatever the reason, I find that I am more apt than the average Asgardian to understand the subtle clues offered to me by my unconscious soul. So many things we reveal to ourselves without ever realizing them.

The lightness of my footsteps when I departed my private chambers, for example, whether in the guise of the shadow or in that of the warrior princess, buoyed me. I felt as if I could leap a hundred miles off the ground. With the hallway straight before me to our briefing hall as our commander makes his speech, and hands out orders. Orders that I chose to follow feeling he has what is best for all of us, in his heart. The hopes of seeing this man, Surkit, filtered throughout my being and lifted my spirit. My faith in this plane of reality.

Consciously I wasn't even thinking about such things. Consciously, I told myself, berated myself, that this entire journey was no more than procrastination. The real road was north and east, but I was deliberately a long way from there. Despite my pangs of guilt, I felt that buoyancy clearly and acutely, a sense of excitement, and not just because I had successfully deflected and delayed facing my deepest fears. Nay, on this road to the mother church of the Order of her mystics, I felt as if I was moving forward on my journey, as if I was taking a very important and exciting stride.

I wondered if I was betraying Odin, my beloved father, who had raised me and tolerated my infirmities without complaint, who had loved me without condition and without embarrassment. My road seemed to be leading me to the man who had invoked my wrath, and my road was walked with eagerness, so what did that reflect upon the All-Father and his sacrifices? And what did I really expect from this plane, Midgard? And why had my father even sent me to this plane?

As I ponder these many angles, my mind jumbles and shakes and darts in directions unasked for. And to all of them, I have no true answers, I recognize, for I will not know how I feel about this encounter until I have met it, face to face with it. I will not know its answers to my concerns until it has explained them to me. I will not know the effect upon the legacy of Odin until long has passed, I am sure."

The troll-Breaker's mind races with many thoughts about the up coming storm. After Surkit is done with his speech she nods her head to him as to say understood. Then she heads back to her private chambers in order to have some soul searching time, to reach her inner chi and hold onto it, to drag that beast within her kicking and screaming through the gates of shadows to amass her true power. As her spirit body, her shadow falls down into the spirit world, her body of flesh vanishes from this plane, as it is replaced with one made up of pure Ethereal energy. Her inner most self bleeds into the spirit world, where all things become real. And all things can be hunted, and most things can be defeated.

Its a dark world that covers the physical world like a layer of paint, and holds to it. Inside this place all things become real, the very concepts and principalities of the world take form in this place, and Brynhyld is the great hunter of this land. This is what she was born for, and this is where she shines like the golden goddess she was born. Here she would find her enemies greatest strengths, and here she would hunt an kill them. She has used this method many times before, and it has rarely failed her, shadows drift around her spirit body as it journeys throughout this dark realm, every second of real time in the physical plane, equates to one entire hour of time in the spirit world.

For now her first delve into this realm is just a means to build up walls, and search for inner truths, so that when it is time to do battle she will be ready, and will be fully aware of which she seeks. Her spirit body searches the great fields, which is mostly still for the time being. Only a few creatures wander this place, one of which has itself buried deep within the land itself. Whats more than that is that she recognizes the energy signature of this creature she sees, it has taken the form of great wolf with the wings of an eagle, and the tail of a scorpion. Its the woman she had met in Berlin. Liberty was her name, its her spirit essence. It is beautiful, and deadly.

"How interesting?" she has plans for this creature... Nothing to drastic, because she has feelings for her, despite her misguided judgment of loyalties... Something subtle that may even save her life. Brynhyld decides to bind a bane of doubt to this beasts noble brow, which will bleed into the physical realm and as a result will also challenge Liberty's judgment, as well. And will hopefully give her a reason to act chaotically, and maybe save her from making a mistake like thinking that Brynhyld is only a heavy hitter and not a gifted goddess of old world knowledge, the types of things you can't even learn on Midgard.

For now however... Brynhyld just sits back and waits to see what the great beast has in mind. She only has Liberty's best interests in mind after all, and will not attack without at least some sign of hostile nature first. She readies her spirit bow, and fastens the bane spirit of doubt to the end of one of her spirit arrows, getting all the prep work out of the way.

Eddy stood surrounded by a collection of armed warriors. The champion let out a little smile as the formerly downed lady stood up showing just as he suspected no injury at all. Dusting the sand off her long black hair she looked at the prince with her one visible eye and tried to install her authority with what he could only assume was an attempt of a threatening stare, her stance made all the stronger by that she had a weapon pointed at Eddy's team-mate. "Surrender yourself," she ordered, pulling the string a fraction tighter, "Or he will be the first of today's casualties.". Edwards mind moved as his lips did covering his team-mate in the same thin telekinetic shield just millimetres thick as his own. The shield laying atop his allies skin undetectable to the naked eye its instant protection silent and without the slightest hint of its appearance. Knowing his team-mate should be safe from blades and bullets for the mean time he began to speak " Surrender? i was about to offer you the chance myself whomever you are. Your little minions here (pointing his thumbs to his sides) aren't even a starter for the likes of me dear. So shall we just skip the we have more people yadda yadda and just get to the main course. "

With his opponent suitably antagonized Edward focused on the two telekinetic shield he had around his ally and himself expanding them rapidly with his full telekinetic fury each shield expanding at hundreds of miles and hour punching out from their original state with the force of a few tons. Edward still looking at the long haired woman "Now would you like to surrender? or perhaps you would like to join your new airborne ninja division " his sentence being punctuated by the falling ninjas scattered around him like broken bowling pins. Whilst still staring at his opponent he opened a telepathic connect to his ally "go to your position and get ready i got this" . Focusing his mind for a second time he closed his shield back in on himself and them gestured his wrists at the ground swiping the fallen ninjas back at their leader with a burst of telekinetic force acting like a giant broom. "Get yourself and the rest of this trash off our property before i take exception to you"

Aproximately Two Weeks Ago

Desiray crawled from the wreckage and with her roughly over forty civilians. They had escaped from Grimm City whiled under siege. On another day Des would feel like a total bad a** for what she had done. A nuke was dropped in the center of the city Des had no clue if it was a meta or a ticking bomb it truly had no consequence to her judgment. Though no leader the adrenaline junkie gathered everyone she could into the retrofitted bus. Laced with plating and guided by her unique abilities she sought to liberate her diseased broken and various rag tag group of survivors. Bullets had fallen on them as what Des would later describe as "red neck cooks against a scurrying rat." Presumably every red would of grabbed a shot gun and unloaded on the creature, the race to escape was like that. From crack using granny to little kid reading comics inspired by heroes like Andferne and Eclipse, they all took up arms and unloaded. The military kicked in when they began to cross the icy lake with the bus. As if driving a bus on ice wasn't hard enough they had to shoot at her.The bus looked like, well the speed freak had no idea what to compare such to. A good summary she would guess was that she was the preacher and the bus her 'holly' instrument. Of course racing from a potential nuke, through a city of gunfire, across ice that was easy right? Soon as the group cleared the debris soldiers in hazmat suits were down their throat.

Guns were raised on both sides yelling indistinct as the boys in yellow confronted the boys in well grunge. Desiray ever the politician walked up to the leader for negotiations. First of course came the Sarge, Sergeant D*ckh*ad far as Des was concerned. It was actually Sergeant Docheyd a decorated soldier that really didn't matter to the girl who hadn't had a quality shower in eighty some odd days though. "Madam you are trespassing on American Soil and highly contaminated and contagious. Further risk of infection can not be allowed we need you and your friends to turn back." He was so calm and proud honorable figure really. To which came the reply. "Are you f*cking stupid what did you think that was a giant strobe light falling? You plan to level the whole damn city. I just drove a bus through rundown streets. Through gunfire from every direction except below me, across f*cking ice which nobody without my set of skills could god d*mn do. Then after losing over two hundred friends, surviving ninety six days over there, and making that kind of run from hell, You! You a servant of The people have the b*lls to point a gun at me." Desiray's head rested on the barrel of the gun looking up at him as the gun pushed against her skull. The sergeant nearly scared to death by this woman had what cure they had at their camp given to the survivors. Desiray had saved her people.

Present Day

The recorded journals of her exploits in Grimm and the entire last hour and a half of the run and cure was copied and given to Surkit. Des feeling it important Bishop know what happened. The originals were hidden in her room in a home in L.A. belonging to her under an alias. She spent a fortune to make ties to her and the alias untraceable. Nobody would find that data but her, should ever something be needed to use against the United States Government come up she had it. After the first invasion like antics of the League of Shadows and delivering the fails to Bishop Des had gotten to work on her latest and greatest project. She called it Project Sparkle. Keep in mind she was not a genius or mastermind just a girl that had a good knowledge with vehicles. Like a child might somehow just know how to build with legos, transform a toy or work a rubix cube, she knew machines. Spitfire had just finished her last tweaks to the crude yet elaborate construction. Her blond hair was in the process of straightening when her communicator went off.

Soon enough she was with the ragtag group of people that were her teammates aside from Angeni and Bishop she really didn't know them. A shame to as some of them were pretty cool, what she would give to get her greedy mittens on some Edit's tech, or to get more acquainted to Brynhylde. Another game for another time however, today was all business. The League was coming soon they didn't know when or how just that they were expected. Des had a small amount of jealousy when Marksman was labeled best with a gun, this was just a girls jealousy though. It actually was a wise call in a way as it sparked competition in the youthful racer. A call to try and up the scales or whatever. Wether it was clever word play or coincidence however she didn't know.

Meeting adjourned Des went back to her room loud music booming in her room. The Mirage would soon be assailed and she was just twilling about within her chair trying not to get distracted with tinkering, video games or touching in with her homies that survived Grimm City. An hour clicks by and at long last the sirens begin to whale. Booming music tuned out the noise the lights however flashed around the room painting walls red briefly before moving to the next. So she started, a brush of her foot and the flooring of her room in the section closest to the window opened up a few pieces of clothing and tools dropping to the lower platform rising. With a hiss it stopped before Spitfire. A massive mountable turret with four gatling guns and two rocket pods with a load of ammo decent enough to fire nonstop an hour, back up generator included. Truth be told it was a very crude mock up, she didn't run a big corporation just races and the gambling of said race. A no loss track record kept her pockets full not deep. This machine was likely compatible to the earliest suits made by Starks Edit and the other industries. Her tricks however made up for the loss of umph because she had control of matter in motion. You can hide from a sniper but not a sniper who can curve her bullets non stop. Then came the fact she was using something that fired its fifty call rounds a lot faster then a sniper riffle. Taking a seat in the machine a computerized hood folded out from the back and over her eye. A low budget H.U.D complete with ammo counters, status of her black yellow and blue colored machine, and a optic that could zoom in and out with a thought granting usage of her ability. Zoomed in she scouted for movement, not a shape but motion. Can hide the body but not motions of it, at least not when moving. Soon as she spotted motion her well painted fingernails and fingers they were attached to pulled the trigger. Bullets heading to give chase to what her sights were on.

Of Flame And Shadow

To many Azrael was little more then a terrorist and a monster. A predictable beast who would bring blood and do what it took to further her vision. This was both true and false as expected by a demon especially one that bordered along being a god. For every demon has customs they peruse it is simply nature they act upon sin, still each is different as well. Beneath each are still personas and customs that define them. Alezra was a warrior a war waging tyrant and a murderer she acted upon her hate and rage most of the time. This did not mean though she would fight with simply antics of run and gun. As much of a blood thirsty child of Death as she was she had no fear of the shadow. No reason not to resort to deception, and so the red haired Widow of Roxom joined the League of Shadow.

There were many reasons for her sudden union that came about in the past few weeks. Lady Liberty was one medium to peak the demon queens interest, a god like no other. If she was one however then surely their was or could be others. If that were so then one could climb to those heights and become one. Of course Azra had been fighting all these years to be more, the past two in particular. For the jade eyed warrior it had been even longer. The domain of hell and plains like it made such time far longer. After rising all this way however she craved more. Like a wizard searches new spells, or treasure seekers looking for more gold, she sought more power. To rise to levels that rivaled any, while still maintaining the dignity of being killable. It was a strange vision of the demon being. Firepower however was not the only drive despite it being the more obvious. Second reason was Gambler, they had many diabetes, discussions of ethics, and some sparing matches. They had similarities and differences, worked with different means and occasionally looked at the other as a bit odd for their choices. Still a mutual friendship existed. Seeing more harm in waring with each other then harm in collaborating or at the minimum coexisting. As the time passed they sought to try and work more solidly together like they had sought to so long ago in a shadowy land.

Third and foremost however was a goal that trumped all. For in the realm of the power struggle it is knowledge which means most. In this world their are organizations scheming in every city, groups of crime lords on every other corner, traitorous politicians in every law firm, plotting governments a plenty. Wars came every week and the battle for information was every day. Of all those to house knowledge one of the best was the schemers of the scheming, the most shady of all shadowy figures, the assassins that target assassins. Just by being here Azra had learned of a granddaughter exile, while not meeting her face to face she knew of a family secret she had yet to be told of by her son or now dead husband. She had learned of one of the most wanted of the Keresh. That was just of individuals around her, it did not so much as touch the ice bergs tip. Information on politicians heroes, stocks all storable on the flash drive. Blair may not of had the patience for putting it all to use, she did however have a child who loved this stuff with a best friend who mastered computers.

Soon enough the games of info gathering was over and the call to arms came. The ecstasy of conflict was calling out to her once more. Gambler presenting a truly commendable speech. Her favorite part "but we are DRAGONS! AND DRAGONS CANNOT BE BURNED!" These were her words of motivation, the scripture to call out her rapture. Elements were her home ground, it was fire though that was always hers. She was ever the scrooge, the inferno, the flame that purified the lands of weakness. She was not the tame lion, the stalking wolf or, sneaking snake, she was the wise dragon. The being honed by conflict, raised in blood, and born of death. Today was just another example of the kingdom of which she belonged to, she wasn't going to rush the massacre to come. It would be savored like a rare whine or life fluid of an angel.

She dressed in red and white, an expectation of her outfit being all crimson by nightfall. A kimono that flowed about her slender yet well toned physique was dawned along her build. A black dragon design ran around the left leg rising up the left cheek coiling around the left arm before going around the back and over her right shoulder. Its eye glowed a blazing green like that of the demoness, the design almost looked alive the detail so intricate. On her hip near the lower back were two bolter pistols should they be needed. In her hands attached at the wrists were her trademark blade tonfas. Their blades a wicked edge design already the black blades looked soaked in blood and who was to say they were not. Dressed to kill the demon was last to step from the plane. Air built up around her as a shield as she sped up decent. Fire roared around her like a comet she looked similar to a falling star. A beautiful stream of coming armageddon, with the sound of twisting metal she crashed through the roof, metal burning white hot. She landed as close to the meeting room as she could and then released the tornado of fire and air around her. A searing vortex of destruction to mark Azrael's entry, the arrival of Death's child.

Emerging from an eerie black smokey vortex, the cunning masked manipulator arrives mere seconds before Jean's motivational speech to the League of Shadows assassins in attendance. A charismatic speech indeed, it certainly did well enough to instill a sense of confidence in the few doubting members. However, for one as vaunted as enigmatic Impero, he cared not for the speech given by the organization's leader, his attention was focused on formulating the numerous strategies and tactical maneuvers he would utilize when doing battle against legendary Angeni. Upon the conclusion of Jean's energetic speech, it became clear that he did not intend on leading any of his fellow League assassins into battle, for they themselves were one of the most qualified and dangerous battle savvy individuals across the globe. With Jean's departure, Impero himself readied himself to confront the greatest warrior that Greece had to offer. Anticipating an interesting and equally fruitful encounter, the masked enigma remains eager to assess Angeni's famous hand to hand combat abilities for himself, hopefully it will not end disappointingly. And while his objective is indeed to test his Olympian opponent's skill, his agenda against her includes sending a message against her, one warning her to never cross him. And against such a powerful individual, one can only dare to confront them with a well-prepared plan.

While his technologically-gifted jet black suit enables long-distance travel through the use of complex built-in teleportation equipment, it would unfortunately not allow him to reach the intended destination. Opting instead to teleport to the nearest undisclosed Witch-Hunter headquarters, mysterious Impero boarded a personalized Witch-Hunter cargo aircraft piloted by his most valuable and trusted Witch-Hunter Silvers. Fortunately, due to the various informative resources provided by the League of Shadows coupled by the Puzzler's peerless assistance, the cunning puppeteer managed to locate his primary target, Angeni, in the Sahara Desert. "Gentlemen, take me to the Sahara Desert", a composed Impero ordered, prior to his aircraft's inevitable liftoff. While the aircraft's pilots utilized the aircraft's advanced technological capabilities to detect the presence of super-powered beings in the vast desert, nefarious Impero patiently waited, intently examining his specialized Jian sword, it's aesthetically pleasing ebony blade crafted from the virtually indestructible metal known as Trion. "Sir, we're here. The sensors indicate the presence of several different metahumans, all of them fitting into the 'God' category", one of the pilots informed, quickly setting the sleek aircraft to it's customized hovering setting. A smug smirk manifesting beneath his expressionless mask, the cunning manipulator rose from his seat, sheathing his finely crafted Trion sword on his back. "Well here's to things finally getting interesting, gentlemen", the poised assassin responded prior to boarding a durable platform physically linked to the aircraft via an adamantium-based cable. With his left hand holding the durable metallic cable, enigmatic Impero descended from his personalized aircraft on the platform.

Calmly setting foot on the sandy desert upon reaching the ground, Impero gestured for the Witch-Hunter aircraft to depart, which the dedicated pilots obeyed without question. Upon the departure of his men, The Genius stood confident and unaided in the unforgiving desert, the Sun's brilliant rays powerfully beaming against him. His visual attention soon shifted towards Angeni who stood several meters from him. Her visible disposition and expressions indicated that the goddess had been embroiled into a battle that's conclusion was recent. However, strangely enough, she seemed to harbor no superficial wounds, her physical condition was at its peak, no doubt due to either divine or mystical interference. "Ah Angeni. The famed daughter of Athena", the poised assassin began, calmly walking towards Angeni before coming to an abrupt halt, a mere three meters from her. She certainly wasn't what Clarice described her to be. Despite having been presumably been in battle perhaps no longer than an hour ago, her beauty was unquestionable. It was to such an extent that perhaps she could even incite jealousy in one as lovely and revered as Aphrodite. "My my Mrs. Sol, you certainly are stunning aren't you. I'm afraid Clarice was mistaken when describing you", Impero taunted, his arms confidently folded behind him. However, as informed by his pilots mere minutes ago, Angeni was not forsaken to participate in this battle alone. The Grandmaster's unique mask instantly detected the presence of two others, fortunately one of them was an ally, a trusted one at that. He detected the presence of the auburn Asgardian warrior, Brynhyld along with the presence of his beloved blonde beauty, Lady Liberty.

"I've heard a great deal about your amazing battle skills Mrs. Sol. The greatest warrior in all of Greece. I must admit.. I'm impressed", the hooded masked mystery paused, examining his Olympian opponent before continuing, "But sadly, a child that hides behind her mother's reputation is nothing against Impero". Instantly, the poised assassin began by testing the speed of Angeni's physical reactions as he hurled several adamantium shuriken towards her. But of course, this was a simple distraction as Impero followed by dashing towards the Olympian beauty and executing a lightning-fast head-kick aiming for a vital point in Angeni's temple that if struck would cause a severe and painful inflation in her throat. Not waiting to see the results of his initial attacks, adamantium blades protrude from deadly Impero's gauntlets as he unleashes a flurry of fast-paced stabbing strikes aiming to puncture Angeni's lungs.

Puzzler leaned in with a smile, seeing what his technological prowess has caused, after this was said and done, he would be known as the man that help unlock the possibility to the Justice leagues doom. "Well...This is entertaining to watch..But Im not done.." Puzzler grinned as he opened up the justice league's still hacked network and tapped into their surveillance systems. "To all of the members currently hooked up with a HUD system, you will notice a surveillance feed is being uploaded it it now". Puzzler chuckled as he supported the league. Next on the masterminds list was the power system, though there were to many generators to actually shut off the lights completely, he cut the power to most main lights, causing the hazard lights to come on, making the base a whole lot darker.

He turned his attention to the monitor that fed straight from Impero's mask surveillance, "Impero, remember to try and use projectiles to keep her arms busy and open for strikes". The information broker then turned his attention to Gambler's feed, "Gambler, I have one of my monitors displaying his vital status thanks to the league's mainframe, just ask when you want his vital stats and I will be more then happy to inform..". Puzzler opened up a new blip screen and started hacking into Iran's military network, focusing on their missile testing areas. "Lets make things a little more interesting.." He said as his finger glided elegantly across the keyboard as a blur, aiming the next missile cluster to be launched straight for the justice leagues base. "Hope you enjoy the fireworks.." He said coldly as he entered the command, in ten minutes time a cluster of ten tactical missiles would be hitting the area around the base, though it wont be enough to destroy the Justice league's base, it would indeed induce some real damage.

Steel sliced into soil and stone as the blade's intended target rolled out of the way. The mask slipped down over his face before the attacker could make him out and he became the Bodyguard once again. Akube raised his hand, but paused. He knew the man. Not by his features, but by his movements, his decisive action, the aura of death that poisoned the air in his presence. A flood of awful memories and burning scars filled the Bodyguard at the sight of the stranger, but he could hesitate no longer, or he would risk death by the hands of this remorseless assassin. Three pellets flew from his hand and struck the earth around the attacker. A thick cloud of smoke enveloped the killer.

From all sides, the intruder could hear him, "I was wondering when you would return..." his voice hung in the air, lingering as thick as the blinding smoke, "Death always finds its way back into Bandari. That is why I'm here!" Upon his cry, a fist sliced through the fog, aimed at the attacker's chin. From another direction, a precise kick was thrown at the side of his knee. A flurry of attacks split the mist, claws shimmering with each slash, refusing to stop until the battle was over. Bandari was his domain, and when murderers and thieves dared to cross its borders, they surrendered themselves to the mercy of the Bodyguard. The battle had already been won. The only concern now was whether or not Akube would walk away.

After reading some intel provided by @The_Puzzler Fowler had a good laugh because their team had some very very fun people to fight, and at the end Fowler had a hard time choosing opponents because they were some of them that he can consider 'worthy' but he cannot be an egoistical asshole who deprives his friends of their battle chance as well. In a fit of confusion and excitement he snaps his hands and ordered one of the bigger yeti's to fetch him a fish bowl, after months of training their speech skills are horrible at most but they can at least understand human language like a toddler would. So they brought him a rather large clay earthenware bowl with a fish in the middle, it is very adorable that fowler chuckled a little as they try to give him the item. Apparently the re-cyborg should be more careful in placing words, he should try box instead but getting a fish inside a bowl is rather hilarious. He forgives them because he finds the whole situation rather amusing and that human tongue is far from their natural method of communicating, the very fact that they can exchange ideas easily is a good enough breakthrough. in the meantime Fowler picked up scraps of brown paper off the floor that he used to wrap fish sandwiches for the younger yeti's, they were interested in human culture at the least and kept pointing at the 'thing' on the television but a nice sandwich is much preferable then the munchkins eating some of gambler's fine leather furniture in League of Shadows base, because that would be very bad and the head of the guild would be very pissed. Another thing that he had to teach them was toilet training, and that is not something that anyone would do willingly. Luckily Fowler has this field of effect which he calls the 'Non Interference Zone' which is actually a series of surgical implants, which allows his body to produce vast quantities of a mutated pheromone that affects anyone in his immediate vicinity so that they cannot help but like him (even when fowler is in the process of snapping their necks!) He has no fine control his empathic projection of joy and love but he is effectively immune because of his unique body, and apparently he doesn't give a care in the world. Generally this allows both him and his opponent into a battle frenzy of sorts where they will lose all fear or rationale that will make them ignore with the 'fly' response but initiating an increase in fight. Bystanders watching the events will cheer on, and this is actually his most dangerous quality besides his battle prowess. It is the ability to make anyone fight on his own terms. Which when applied in other event is very useful for earning companions simply because they will feel more 'comfortable' and 'safe' around him. As he scribbles down the names of the JLI on the paper scraps he crumples each bit of paper, accidentally crumpling two pieces together as one, then after his process is done he puts the bits of paper on the fish bowl. The yeti raised an eyebrow when Fowler told her to eat the fish, but she does it anyways and as she does the bits of paper get swallowed as well as the other content of the bowl. Instead, the yeti is turned face down, the chest resting on the Fowler's forearm, with the head lower than the body. The Fowler then strikes the infant between the shoulder blades 5 times using the heel of the hand. The strikes should be firm but not hard enough to cause injury. Fowler then checks the mouth, removing any visible objects. If the airway remains blocked, the rescuer turns the yeti face up with the head down, and using the second and third fingers, thrusts inward and upward on the infant's breastbone 5 times . The method caused the adorable snowman to cough out a note at the cyborg's hand, Fowler disentangled the note and it turns out there are two bits on information, Brynhyld and another one that is barely readable that might say angen- something.

Saharan Airspace

A tornado flew across the skies at great speeds, it is very visible and many observers through the international community mistook it for an experimental weapon that is used by a terrorist group. The spiral formation disassembled all the cloud that it passed through; its path is extremely erratic. Witnessed to curve and zigzag several times before continuing on its forward path.

Creed was perhaps one of the last of the league's members to head out onto the field, but for good reason. He has spent the last six hours training endlessly with a duplicate, and every time him or the other one was hit, they made a dupe and they had to train with a dupe. With this process going on for six hours, there was a hefty mob of fifty duplicates. In the armory they all picked different kinds of weapons, some had baseball bats and others were armed with the latest G.I combat gear. "Oh brother...Maybe this wasn't the greatest idea.." Creed said scratching his head as he watched his duplicates yell and argue with one another about who knows what. The angry dupes were mad at the sad dupes for being sad and they were sad from all of the arguing going on. "Guys...GUYS!...Ugh...SHUT UP!" Creed yelled and whistled loud enough to grab the attention of all the dupes. "Ok! I see that we aren't all getting along as usual...But you need to understand that this is a pretty heavy operation we are about to take on! If we don't work together...I may die! And for all we know that means you all die too!" This made almost all of the dupes make a stern face, realizing the cooperation that will be required of them. "So please, just for this mission could we just operate like a force of nature!?" Creed grinned and raised his fist, making the other dupes raise their fists and yell and cheer.

Creed and his mob of duplicates marched on over to the portal gateway in the league's center, before jumping in the dupes and Creed loaded up their weapons and drew their swords. Creed himself pulled out two silenced pistols and went into the gateway while having them out in front of him. The justice league head quarters was very quickly getting flooded with the mob of duplicates as they fanned out. Splitting into groups with different objectives, Creed took five with him and started to navigate the darkened power drained hallways. Creed ran into the girl he had the pleasure of encountering the other week. He wasted no time with trying to sneak up on someone that was not easy to take down from behind, he emerged from the shadows with a smirk on his face. "Hey there missy, remember me?" Creed says almost as a taunt while removing his brown trench coat. The other five duplicates emerged from the shadows shortly after with smirks and grins as well, "And me? And me? Oooh ohhh! What about me!?" Some of the dupes taunted as well.

A group of ten dupes jogged through the corridors and searched for more hostiles, until they were lucky enough to see one in some sort of confrontation already with some of the league's assassins. One dupe leaned into another and whispered "Which one is that!?" He asked while fixing his automatic rifle on the hero. "That is Edward Windsor you dip stick! Didn't you read the Intel for this op!?'" The more stern dupe shook his head and focused his sniper rifle on Edward's head. "Dude...Of course I studied it because we are all the same person! I just have a bad memory god!" He gritted his teeth with frustration. With enough chit chat as it is, they quickly made a simple plan. Five of the dupes charged at the hero head on, one leaping into the air for a vibranium laced boot to the face, another two going for a team combo of quick strikes to pressure points if they could land them and the other two armed with electric producing swords behind him aiming to charge straight into his back. The dupe with the sniper rifle cussed under his breath while trying to get a fix on the hero's head but his counterparts were in the way now.

Meanwhile at another part of the ship, three duplicates were navigating deeper inside the base with a large bag. "Ok, so we just get these into place and KABLAM!" Yelled one of them while throwing his arms up in the air, "I just hope that Puzzler will keeps tabs on any incoming hostiles while we are busy setting these up.." Said a more cautious one while pointing his flashlight in every dark corner.

False stood beside Surkit looking around, being naturally paranoid the entire en devour was putting him close to the edge of his sanity. Listening to Surkit he nodded his head giving the impression that he would do as told and take battle stations, but he wasnt going anywhere. Surkit was his only real friend and he would stand by him to the end if need be, his body trembled as he manipulated his skin. Creating a thick hide all over his body, his skin from its normal grey color to that of a dark green and almost scaly in appearance. His uniform was more somber in colors in contrast to the others of the group, black and grey littered his uniform as the others had bright colors to what they wore. He looked to Surkit then leaped into the rafters making a perimeter of the room they both shared. The control room was dark and almost felt like his true home as he wandered above Surkit, he heard the order given to find each station the members were assigned but he stayed put up above watching Surkit. Slowly pulling barbs out of his skin and sliding them in a strap he wore across his chest, and diagonally from each shoulder. Each strap held a good thirty spikes and barbs, he lined each with his own pieces of body and then looked down seeing the confidence and worry both on Surkits face.

Standing up in the rafters he held his hand out to his side, and slowly he pulled a long almost bo staff looking piece of skin from his body. Spinning it in his palm he knelt down and then dropped catching himself with the staff before falling down behind Surkit. His com link blasted with the voices of those within the team, each had found that these Shadows Gambler employed were anything but amateurs. He had hoped that some of these men would at least be easier to fight than the others, but all showed considerable amount of skill. False knew which one was his target but he didnt wish to leave Surkit alone so he left it up to Surkit himself. Walking closer to him he whispered in his ear "Anytime you wish me to attack the targets you tell me, but I really think you should have more than guards around you. Just in case they attack in a group sir."

The drilling bolt made from of air and cyborg hair finally struck against the ground as the bizarre formation sinks itself on the Saharan sands, the sounds that emanate from the shimmering form contains an exaggeration of white noise which has a noticeable effect on its wildlife in the span of four kilometers. His presence triggered an immediate 'flight' response which resulted to a mass exodus as cheetahs dashed ahead of other ground species with several gazelles (Dama & Dorcas) following behind shortly after, carrion birds positioned themselves away at several thousand meters because they desire to take in the cadavers that will be inevitably left after the ensuing brawl but are all hesitant in becoming cooked fowl.

Herds and flocks of different species spread in an omnidirectional arc, foxes running besides hyenas. If this was not a battle centric mission Fowler would snag one or two ostriches to eat and cook for the rest of the team, because he knows the preparation for ostrich stew from several chefs around the desert area. After giving the animals several minutes to escape the ensuing battle Fowler took a breathing style merely for theatrics as he has no actual need to do so, this is just to give a signal so that his opponent's whoever they are won't be caught off guard. Seconds later his mouth opens wide agape, a thunderous noise of about one hundred seventy decibels exploded violently across the desert.

To give a rough illustration of what that actually does 160 Decibels which is several notches lower can cause perforation of eardrum and permanent deafness, 170 Decibels which is currently occurring has the Level of sound in a 'flash-bang' grenade which emits a deafening sound intended to incapacitate any person in the vicinity, 180 Decibels which he can go up to at any given moment with impunity can penetrate the body, shaking air-filled lungs and causing them to hemorrhage with death following.

A comparison to this sonic assault is a rocket lift off and when the rockets fire it would be best to stand at least a half-mile away if you do not want to get smothered by 170 decibels of painful sound. Unlike many other loud noises, the shuttle rocket sound is constant as it creates the thrust necessary to lift it from the ground. To produce 160 dB, with high efficiency equipment, people need 3 million watts of amplifier power. 170dB - 30 million, 180dB - 300 million. Fowler can go more than tenfold and spam them at will.

He had called out his target using his roar to form a coherent ‘Brynhyld’ in the heart of the violent ocean of noise. What he may not notice is that his teammates may be present within the blast of his voice, but he does notice that some of them (@Impero , @Lady_Liberty ) have been sufficiently insulated against this kind of assault. By doing this he hopes to achieve one of the two things, firstly to advertise his presence so that it would be easier for them to find him and vice verse because it allows him to find worthy opponents, plus hearing that Bryn is a battle woman she would be likely to answer his battle declaration. Secondly it may distract others into targeting him while the allies that are already present will have easier time picking them off one by one.

After fifteen minutes of this broadcast Fowler shuts his mouth and resumes to another set of formalities, a war dance inspired by the Maori Haka. Fowler specifically performs the war chant of Te Rauparaha's Haka. This haka involves exorbitant amounts of loud chanting, explosive arm gestures, feet stomping, fierce states, and all of it in perfect synchronicity. He recites “Ringa pakia! Uma tiraha! Turi whatia! Hope whai ake! Waewae takahia kia kino”and does so by yelling them at the height of his voice, with plenty of facial expression to back up the incredible volume. His bands of snowmen are not present but their ‘ spirit’ supports him as he too generates their sounds. With their rhythm coming together in loud harmony as the airspace is filled with the sound of, slapping thighs and stomping feet.

Whatever sounds shared the same room is now effectively killed off as they are overwhelmed by his performance, his presence that covered the area like an orchestra in an open stadium. He waits patiently as he is done with both arms spread across like wings. His head facing the sun like a triumphant beak and both feet firmly grounded in a similar manner to how talons perch themselves on a lonely branch.

He is ready, he is pumped up and he wants nothing less than an all out war. Today marks the day of no return, for whoever accepts his open challenge will receive a reward in the form of the greatest performance they will experience to tell their children and their children’s children in many generations to come or they will carry a smile to their graves that they will tell in the afterlife. Both of a story of an enemy that has a ‘’presence’ a charisma that stands above god, of a fist that has shattered the heaven on its way down and that of another fist that has crumbled hell on its way up both as an open invitation to the concept fighting itself anthropomorphized in human form.

And that entity said “Come at me bro!”

Edward remembered what Surkit had said to him only a few hours ago " You will be outnumbered , you will possibly be out-gunned but you must do what you can to hold this position.Can you do that for us Eddy? are you ready to do what you have to, to hold them back ." Looking down at the battle plans briefly he absorbed what he could before looking back at his college and said in a slightly offbeat tone "i think I'am, just don't leave me down there waist deep in ninjas for to long ok" His tone not entirely unsure but a cautious tone of knowing that this would be dangerous really dangerous

Standing affront of the hall Edward now stood alone on the field with Marksman now safely back in his over-watch position acting as both Eddy's spotter and extra fire power. This was the tough part the battle was here and he had to be ready. Hearing a sudden burst of movement behind himself the champion rotated rapidly " Crap they have me on both sides." 5 oddly similar individuals approached him incoming fas,t the name "Creed" flashed across his mind followed by "duplicator." Focusing his vision as the targets that approached he zoned in on the five apparent dupes that approached him. One leaping towards him brandishing a bladed boot two approaching into H2H range and two wilding some sort of charged swords. His instinct and super speed working as one, grabbing hold of the ankle of the airborne dupe he rotated swinging the one whom he held as a club through the rotation swatting the two unarmed dupes back with unbridled force their hands centimetres from contact "close" the champion thought as he flung his club dupe towards his downed brothers.

"Two armed dupes now this will be fun" Edward thought his mind expanding as the telepathic forces within start to push out towards the two armed dupes weaving through the space between Edward and his targets in nano seconds his mental prowess knocking on the door of his targets minds then probing at their brains like invisible fingers, their minds where weird to Edward having never seen anything quite like them. But focusing on the task at hand a thought flashed across The champions mind his will transferred through his mental forces ,hitting the two dupes like a sledgehammer in their heads "Attack the black haired woman" . Standing ready in case the dupes could some how resist his telepathic assault all the while watching the movements of the black haired woman standing at his 7 O'clock.

Project Sparkle was working like a charm putting down countless rounds down the sight ripping into any assassins, dupes or anyone else she didn't recognized as not a foe. Of course she had yet to try out the more complex tricks in it however. So in a way saying it worked like a charm was like checking the engine when you had a gas leak. A clean motor had nothing to do with the oil tank, triggers working was not the same as saying the machine was flawless. Looking up for any flight based targets she spotted a faint motion. Another zoom in and she had seen the clear indicator of a rocket, she was slightly happy for the sight in a sense.

Assuming she had the tech skills to hack a missile silo she would of used up the bunker busters herself. A rocket might shake the place up even do serious damage if it hit a weak point. Unless all ten hit though odds were the place would remain standing. If he had fired a bunker buster though then all it would take is one. It would burry deep and then go off likely dropping the entire place into a nice pile of twisted metal. This though, this was something she could take care of. Looking down the sights she lined up her trajectory she got a bead on six of the incoming rockets. Her half ass A.I of a half ass H.U.D plotting trajectories making it even easier. Squeeze one, four shots and a explosion. Turn slightly squeeze, three shots each hitting the same exact point boom. Repeat and repeat four down, turn again a single faster round greater penetration fifth rocket down. One left in her vision, then came the voice from behind her. His motions giving a faint hint before he spoke, smart at least for not trying to be stealthy against her.

"Sadly yeah I do" she remarked as Creed spoke, another five duplicates chirping in. "Christ you f*ckers are like the birds in FInding Nemo." The blood adrenaline freak remarked mockingly. Then it all clicked she had a sixth rocket. Her gaze over her shoulder returned to the window, the heads up display picking up on the fatly approaching rocket. "Hey Creed dear, your an ass. And I have the stick you've been wanting to shove up it." The model swiveled the turret around a charming smile on her face. The kind that she knew helped get perky teens to buy fashion magazines just for ladies like her. Behind that girl next door smile though was a rocket, just right outside the window.

It flew past her the heat making sweat line her brow and then came the thunderous boom. Where Creed and his duplicates went in that brief moment before impact she didn't know. All she did was use all the mental fortitude to push the explosion all forwards and away from her. Doing her best to grab all the hot tools in her room and send them flying his way as added shrapnel. Later she would realize how much of her crap she just ruined, at the moment though it was a pull no punches ordeal. The turrets were warm and ready to kick up again at the sight of any survivor. "Surkit we got four rockets inbound I took out six….okay five one I used as a weapon." Desiray couldn't help but laugh a bit at that.

It became a matter of International security now. The missile silos entrusted to the league had been hacked and turned against them, this would no doubt cause tensions and reevaluations of the team in the future.Luckily Brynhyld the glory fueled warrior godess was already on it, spitfire, the bullet bending beauty already having made quick work of six of them.

Bishop cracks the arm of his chair, gripping it tighter each time a new enemy's bio rhythms appeared on the screen. The click of a hammer i present behind his head, as he turns with an irradiated fist to see Dream, holstering his weapons. He rubs his temple, "Maybe two mens' mistakes..." As his head is lowered a whisper is in his ear, one of respectful allegiance. "Any man can get overwhelmed... right, you two are with me. Dream when we touch down I need you to take aim at The Puzzler. He's a well known hacker of high prowess, if he's left alone for too long he could start a nuclear holocaust with the Mirage alone." Dream. A referred member, presented by his old friend Closure, a high esteemed albeit cocky member of the former Nippon empire. The man was brash, Closure, but his judgement was always morally clear. If he put his reputation on this kid, it had to be for good reason. "Falsify, me and you will need to take out those bombs that cookie cutter dupe maker is planting."

Bishop stands and walks to the teleporters down the hall, ten rings of light spaced equally from each other. Each take a place as Bishop speaks a specific code command aloud, the computer already hardwired for transit to The Mirage. The transport is instantaneous as they all arrived a hall away from their targets. Bishop pulls out a transparent schematic, using hi hands to speak marine style to Falsify, directing him to take out the dupes in cognito, holding up one finger then flicks his grouped fingers from pointing at himself to pointing to the sidem signifying "One hit and done", the dupes possibly being kinetically regenerative. He points at the cameras then back to himself signifying he would have any and all forms of view taken out. Before Falsify rounds the corner, Bishop looks him in the eyes, sliding a thumb across his throat with a finger pointed at the dupes back.

As His ally moves in, Surkit slips directly under the corner mounted wafer thin camera. He reaches into the wall panel, synging wires making it and the other four in the hall un-usable. He closes the panel and in a crouched position walks down the hall to find Falsify, amalgamated with spikes and barbs, creeping up on the gaggle of emotional duplicates.

"Well that was some adorable theatrics.." Puzzler grinned as he pulled up a full file on Desiray. As he adjusted his glasses as he checked on Creed's vital signs after that extreme explosion, to the hacker's surprise, they were still kicking, though the vitals were a tad racy the duplicating spy was indeed alive. Next he turned his attention to all of the surveillance feeds as well as vital blips of anyone in the building, very suddenly a few more heartbeat blips were detected. "Hmm...I can only imagine who that is.." Puzzler sighed and pulled up his file he had on Surkit. The computer Oz estimated that the posse of Creed's carrying the bombs wouldn't go unnoticed much longer. Puzzler spoke into their comm devices, "~Boys, I think it is safe to say your cover has been blown...Stay frosty...~".

Puzzler tilted his head as he noticed on the camera feed displaying Edward and the dupes that they were being mentally attacked. "Oh you must be joking.." The hacker groaned as he uploaded an old sound file to the comm mainframe, a long time ago Puzzler thought that a mind like his could never be controlled, or else everyone would be in big trouble. And so he created a sort of sound wave to help block out foreign mental waves. "Alright guys...Your going to hate this now but you will thank me later.." Puzzler entered the sound wave to Creed's comm signals, sending the loud wave of noise into all of the dupes earpieces. Puzzler was uncertain on how effective the sound wave would be, he only hoped it would be effective.

The three dupes were helped up by their newly created duplicates, the six of them glared at Edward but all of them quickly noticed something strange happening to their two sword wielding counterparts. They had an odd look in their eyes as they slowly turned their attention to one of their own teammates. One of the dupes widened his eyes and charged at the two sword dupes, "Guys! They have been compromised!" The other dupes nodded and charged at them too, one of them managed to grab one of the possessed dupe tightly with both arms. "Hey man calm down! You have been poss-" The possessed dupe drove the back of his head into the grappling dupe's face and grunted, the freshly created dupe from the headbutt grab the sword out of the possessed one's hand and brought him to the ground with a leg grapple. "Ahh!" The dupe yelped as he was sliced in the back by the still free duplicate. "Alright guys...Your going to hate this now but you will thank me later.." Said the Puzzler over their comm devices, quickly followed by a deafening sound wave and screech. The duplicates screamed in pain and fell to the ground, only to get back up while holding their heads. "Ok...All in favor of kicking this tea drinking dip stick's a$$!? AI!" Yelled the rest of the dupes in response. The nine duplicates charged at Edward, now with what seemed to be a useful telepathic retardant. One duplicates slid towards the hero's shins while to again went for a quick combo to his chest, hoping to actually land a hit. Another dupe came up from behind and attempted to get him in a strangle hold to make the two front dupe's jobs simpler. The five other dupes stood a few feet away, calculating where the speeder may try to escape and stood ready to clip him if he tried.

On the other side of the base...

Creed was flat on his back, with little to no air to breath or so it felt. "I gotta' stop being so cocky..." He groaned as he lifted his head to look at his chest, his favorite green sweater was torn to shreds by the shrapnel, luckily underneath it was some experimental chest plating that was comprised of multiple tough and rare metals. "Oh...hehehe....*cough* so glad that was able to swipe that...From Name...". Creed let his head hit the metal floor again, he felt something tug on his sleeve, upon looking down he could see a duplicate smirking, but was shredded by shrapnel, "Hay man...You alright?" The dupe asked and chuckled weakly. Creed was confused and shocked, but he was quick to piece it together. "You...and the others-?" The dupe nodded, "We jumped in front of you to take most of the blast...I was the only one to survive..". Creed was filled with grief and started to notice the smoke clearing, soon his enemy would attack him. "Alright...In ya' go.." Creed coughed and put his hand on the dupes shoulder, absorbing him like a blur. Creed's eye went wide as he felt his body heal up from absorbing the dupe. "Much better!" He yelled as he jumped back onto his feet.

"I have to admit that was some grade A stuff there girly...I mean holy s!t!" Creed chuckled as he pressed a button on his black utility belt, diffusing any sort of scanner pointing at him. Yeah I hope those turrets can work manually cause they ain't going to want to shoot me!". With a grin Creed ran towards the teen and pulled out his two nine mills and dived straight at her while firing a barrage of bullets.

Meanwhile at the lower levels of the base...

One of the dupes started to whistle a tune out of boredom, driving the other two up the wall. "Oh man why do you have to be so chatty and noisy!?" One of them yelled at the whistling dupe, causing him to stop. "Well I am sorry that we were given the most boring job in the history of base attacks!". The stern dupe groaned and looked back forward with his flashlight. After a few more moments they were all contacted by the infamous information broker Puzzler. "~Boys, I think it is safe to say your cover has been blown...Stay frosty...~". One of the dupes groaned even louder and pulled out his semi automatic, "Well that is JUST perfect! You bored now!?...Well no...Cause now we get to actually do something awesome!...I am so close to shooting you right now it's not eve-Wait what the hell is that!?" The duplicates stopped bickering and looked over to see Surkit quickly approaching them with the intention to take them out no doubt. "Fill him with holes! Did you really just say tha-? Just do it!" The dupes opened fire with their machine guns towards Surkit while quickly running away, their mission was to valuable to be compromised on the account of a fight.

An aggressive assault against the World's greatest adoration of consolidated heroes had begun, and there was no turning back. Blood had been drawn and vendetta declared as small pockets of uniquely painted combat pageantry were put on display. Highlight reel performances of martial arts prowess coupled with innovative tactical ingenuity were prevalent on both sides, neither gaining nor losing ground in the opening stages of the military tug-of-war. Competently prepared by the their battle tested leader the Maybach Mamba, Surkit, the Justice League were confidently confronting the threat on all fronts. Communication, intelligence, and flawless preparation had ensured containment minimizing the risk of civilian casualties. But that was all about to change.....

With accelerated dexterity profoundly fueling Akube's alacritous(being swift) offensive attack aided by his strategical implementation of his cloaking smoke pellets, he unleashed the full fundamental furry of his claw based attack. However his overconfidence had seemingly blinded him to the fact that although the Cajun was unable to see him, he could hear him as his proclamation of protection lingered in the air as he engaged. With perfect form the Aristocratic Arashikage gripped the hilt of his katana poised directly over his head while leaning back in a exaggerated low Itto Prime stance minimizing his bodies exposure. Powerfully blasting up out of position deflecting various attacks stylishly twirling the blade with theatrical arrogance before repositioning and deflecting again. High, low, backwards, the assassin asserted his defensive dominance utilizing his superhuman anticipation developed through his rigorous training. Having led the once illustrious Order of Sancta Camsia in a failed assault against the fabled land of Asgard and suffering the loss of his sight at the hands of the All Father Odin, Jean Luc had fostered his other senses to sublime satisfaction.

Yet the JLI affiliate was fighting for something more then just personal glory or revenge which made him as dangerous as any superhuman or deadly assassin. Carrying the weight of an entire nation was something Gambler knew all to well, and he recognized the passion represented through Akuba's dedicated strikes, powering the African Apostle as the smoke dissipated. A decisively deadly blow was narrowly avoided, Gambler parrying to the side avoiding the death dealing slash aimed for his face only to feel the heart pausing pain of Akuba's claws rip through his right shoulder severing muscle and tendon rendering the arm useless as it was instantly relegated to the assassin's side. Although injured Gambler's viper like movements never faltered, his black shaded blade still gripped tightly in his left hand running along the length of his forearm in reverse as it remained stationed out in front of his body, his trademark Cheshire Cat grin on full display utilizing it as an extension of his expansive arsenal. Hesitation was never shown as spun through the final fading element of smoke two fingers extended off the hilt of his blade unleashing an unseen wave of telekinetic energy in an attempt to hurl his opponent backwards through the air. Quickly taking a moment to speak to an invisible entity.

"Puzzler, hack dee Israeli central command and launch a series of Ballistic missiles into Iran. Make sure dee Iranians can trace it back to Israel but do not make it easy. Tis time we show dees heroes dee true face of war."

The JLI had prepared a compressive defensive strategy to contain the enemy in open combat, but the League of Shadows was about to ignite a political, humanitarian, and global nightmare. And without a hero to spare, the LoS was about to make them fight a war on two fronts.

"Who protects the innocent when the heroes are busy protecting Themselves?" - Jean Luc

From my position deep underground I watched Angeni and Impero face off. The skills of the impervious Impero and the amazing Angeni were both beyond that of lesser mortals and although I wished to observe the display it was the right moment to strike.

But just as I started to fly up from the sands and unleash my sneak attack on Angeni a strange energy begin to glow around her. Pausing to observe rather than leaping into something I didn’t understand I saw her being to fade from this reality. Peering closely I could see the microscopic traces of an extra-dimensional energy had her in its grip and was dragging her though to another reality. Against her will it seemed, by her expression.

After only a few micro seconds she was gone in a flash of golden light. I’m not too proud to admit my disappointment. Angeni was a worthy adversary, a fine test of my abilities. There was also the chance this was simply a method to lure me into the open for an ambush.

This left me in a strange position, Angeni, Brynhyld and Rake were my primary targets and none of them were on the field. This was a disappointing turn of events, as I had looked forward to fighting the three of them. There was nothing I could do about it though, so I turned my focus to the rest of the JLI team.

Time to do as much damage as I could to the rest of their team. While this was a disappointment to me it was a boon to my allies. Without the other gods to keep me busy I would be free to wreck havoc on the JLI's weaker members.

Scanning the area I soon noticed a man dressed in what looked like the flag of Briton. Or the UK or whatever they called it now. What was wrong with Briton anyway seemed like a fine name to me? Oh well never mind, time to focus girl. Maybe I'll ask him about it after the fights over.

Tearing though the Sahara sands at several hundred miles per hour I point the Trion sword ahead of me like a spear. The sand begins to melt into glass at my passage and in just mere moments I burst from the ground behind him. Molten glass sprays out around me as I drive my sword toward his kidney at six hundred miles per hour.

Regardless of the stabs success or failure I twist around as I fly past the man, slashing down at his throat with the blade.

The sword phase of the attack ends within a micro second, I am far out of reach. Flying toward the sky I look down upon him. Twin lasers leave my eyes, invisible microwave frequencies targeting his left knee. At a hundred thousand watts I hope it is enough to bypass whatever defenses or durability he has but not enough to permanently maim him.

From the sky I observe the aftermath of my attack, mentally prepared and ready.

Things within bleed as one

The air tastes different here... The water does as well. It tastes like all the things water is supposed to taste like, only the living senses have trouble detecting things that seem to be second nature for the soul within. Every single aspect has a slightly different flavor, and scent. It is alive here, and it fills the spirit with its living energy. Her feet are standing firm atop of a great hill as she looks down and sees that much has changed since she first entered this plane, and now she is certain her intentions must be acted upon.

Liberty is on the move and she is being the impressive goddess that she is, a whirlwind of chaotic energy, an active super volcano of modern destructive might. Something else has caught Brynhyld's attention as well, there were ten and now only four are left. Some type of modern weapon of massive destructive powers as well, only its not a living force it is but a tool, and tools have much less of an impact in the shadow realm and are vastly less complex to deal with.

These bright blazing blips fly through the empty space of the spirit world as they have taken the forms of some strange modern energy shaped into the form of four separate large dragons. Brynhyld must act, and she must act fast. First she uses her spirit arrows to draw them together, as they combine and form one mighty dragon with four heads, and then these energies return to attack the warrior princess, as the mighty dragon puts Brynhyld in its sights. The blips keep heading off into their destined paths, only now their are purified, and glow faint and blue in color. Whatever these orbs of massive destructive fury once were remains a mystery to her, but now they have been made clear.

What is Unknown to The Troll-Breaker is that these blips were weapons of Midgard known as missiles. And Unknown to whom ever launched these destructive toys on their warpath, the goddess has effectively made them duds. They will not explode, they have been neutralized of the destructive energy within. They will hit their targets, but without the threat of explosion they will only cause impact wounds, and shatter as debris.

Now however, the Troll-Breaker has put herself in the line of danger with that very same destructive energy as the mighty four headed construct starts to breath its modern energy in the form of great cones of flame down upon her spirit body. At first she is able to use her great speed to perry these attacks, but she will not be able to keep this up for long. So she has to form a plan and she has to do so quickly. And as this great rage filled beast rains its fury down upon her loveliness, the cleaver goddess does glow with wisdom.

To her surprise they slow down their fire breath, for they have all been trying so hard to kill her that they have all wasted a lot of their own energy, and must rest for a moment to regather their own strength. This gives Brynhyld all the time she needs to launch herself upon this beast of a dragons back, as she wraps her mighty arms around the middle right ones neck and she squeezes as tight as she can.

SNAP!

A death sheik is heard by the other heads as they all start to panic firing the little energy they have left at her, as she quickly lets go and rolls backward. Tumbling down their mighty back, along the jagged spines of hulking base. In their fury and fear they forget themselves as their fire cones fire chaotically at one another, as they effectively destroy one another, defeating themselves. The body of this beat slowly starts to break away from its form as it bleeds like a stream filling the Troll-Breaker with its energy feeding her spirit body with its left over strength. The power of this modern energy is intoxicating, and different then anything she had ever felt before. "Is this the same energy that Liberty feels burning inside of her?" she thinks to herself, as her eyes do blaze with green chaotic fury for a moment before her spirit body cleans the energy, and makes her whole again. "Whoa... What a rush!"

Strafe stood there in awe of the articulate planning that the vicious League of Shadows executed so well. He saw all of his teammates be sucked in to combat, fighting for their very existence. Strafe then notices a whirlwind on one of the flashing screens. He managed to see a hazy silhouette of a man flying through the air. There was no doubt in Strafe's mind that it meant bad news for anyone not paying particular attention. A smirk creeped on his face as he whispered "It is you who will be surprised."

Instantly, Strafe vanished with the speed of the Gods and appeared in the dark hallway. An icy blade quickly formed in his hand in the shape of a katana. With the other he ominously pointed his right hand in the direction of the figure. "You will go no further." He stated as a broad and crackling ice blast escaped from his palm. It flew intensely at the shadowed figure (@PaperRonin ) hoping to connect and freeze his opponent. He didn't expect it too though, as that would make it too easy to win. He prepared himself by sliding in to a combat stance.

The Master Jedi known as Freddie Mercury lights his cigarette with the blade of his one of its kind pink lightsaber, with an extra long hilt. He is walking down the halls inside of the JLI headquarters looking for unscrupulous types, from the fabulous League of Shadows he does believe they refer to themselves as such at any rate. The smoke is not bad as far as Italian smokes go, and its not causing him a bit of harshness. A cold beer would be lovely however, and he just needs to have some down time soon, so he can go back to his room, and play with his cat named Blossom. She is an orange tabby, and she loves her milk warmed up, and her belly tickled.

Freddie stops when he reaches the end of a long hall and takes a drink from the water fountain he suggested at the last team meeting should be installed, so that they could keep themselves cool and refreshed more easily in such a hot climate zone. This mobile base is so cramped after all, but it is teaming with well muscled men whom all wear tights. That was the main selling point for Freddie joining the JLI. That Surkit is suck a hunk after all, and he really knows how to throw a party. Freddie loves to party, and dance, and sing.

He is also just dying to have the chance to show his skills with his burning pink lightsaber, he knows how to twirl it with the best of them, and he will show anyone how they should handle theirs if they want to try and strike him down. The force is strong in this man and he can sense that their are a few invaders inside the base, but he wants to just bump into them, not force them into an encounter, he likes it to feel natural and honest when someone crosses swords with him. Freddie is wearing his superman t-shirt, white slacks, and his white and green adidas.

After he finishes his smoke he drops it on the floor and steps on it twisting his foot back and forth to make sure it is good and out. Then he goes back to his patrol of the base, there is a part of him that feels like he is being silly by not just heading straight to the life signatures he senses, but that is overwhelmed by the need to do things they way he wants them to be done. So he just ignores that feeling because it just makes him feel bad anyways, and he doesn't like to feel bad, because he is so good. Freddie does sense that he is closing in on someone however, so he takes his sabers handle in hand and readies himself for the encounter to come.

@The_Puzzler: Eyes darken at the thought of absolute chaos. Distinguished invaders believe its okay to cause havoc in lands no associated with this personal issue. Regardless its up to the living dream to handle the abysmal. Instead of leaving for ostentatious acts of warfare, fingertips glide against smooth keys, shifting through cameras within every control room known to the Justice League databases. Momentarily combing back his raven hair locks the seasoned strategist is humored to discover the Puzzler.

His low level chuckle shifting into a more upsetting frown. Bishop wordings are understood but he rather gather legitimate Intel before departing into the fray of things. As a directive is officially implemented there's a sense of urgency in Bishop Jones' tonal exchange. "Whatever you say sir", with a smug snicker thee indecipherable hero walks into the transporter with an arched eyebrow. This debacle is surely strange. It was time to weed out the problem accordingly.

Joseph isn't intimidated by the sheer number of duplicates. Although adequate foes these hive minded individuals do indeed fall like dominoes. Sweaty palms are pressed against carefree temples. Life and its entirety are pushed aside as he thinks thoughts not many can ascertain. His Olympic swimmer frame dissipates like water vapor into the musky atmosphere of intricately stylized fight scenes. Agent Johnson knew his oncoming target would a difficult persona to appropriately handle.

Instantaneously appearing near the perplexing Puzzler. Hiding beneath shadows the objective mind set is prepared for any worse case scenario. Tightening his loose jeans the prestigious government agent lightly grasps steel weaponry. Standing on an angle there's a specific urgency when dealing with a highly intellectual enemy such as this one. His computer savvy skills could prove disastrous if murdered without questioning. Melancholia conversation may entice this obvious low life so the living dream makes himself known, pretending to be somethings he's not. "I suggest you stand down. I'd hate for your blood to dirty some fine technology", he says smiling as if that'll make the situation any better. Two guns aimed at his clavicle. One false maneuver and he'd shoot. "Stop the madness and I'll let you live."

The object of war is not to die for your country but to make the other bastard die for his ~ General George S. Patton

"Did you REALLY think that I, The Puzzler, was just going to be unsought at this entire battle?" Puzzler's voice echoed through the control room as the chair automatically turned around. Sitting in the chair was a faceless limp dummy covered with designs of jigsaw pieces. "I know about you, I know about everyone and it was more then easy to estimate your role in the battle would be to try and threaten me to stop the onslaught of chaos that I am now more inclined to cause.." Puzzler's shadow covered face flashed up on the big screen and stared down at his enemy. "Allow me to make this simple for you...If I scan any sort of tech interference while I am hacking into the mainframe I will insure you that more then the calculated body count already will increase substantially...". Puzzler laughs as he starts cracking down the firewall to Israel's military mainframe.

"Heh...And did you really think my location was going to be as simple as just looking through a series of control rooms? I am not even close, so far away you can't even imagine how far off you were..I mean who says I am on this planet right now? Another dimension?...But lets not get to theatrical now.." Puzzler was finished cracking the firewall, the mainframe was his and his only. He muted the speaker to the false control room and contacted Gambler, "Gambler...I am in the network now, and I am ready to fire. You may want to be quick on making an example of you opponent before they go to deal with this mess...".

Puzzler connected back to the control room. "Sorry about that, oh! And another thing...Don't try and trace this connection back to me. Even if that was possible I would make sure you would be punished dearly for it.." Suddenly, every single screen in the vast control room flashed up with the face of Puzzler. "I am sorry, I really am...This is such an anti climax to your daring mission to try and stop me..But this is a piece to the puzzle that has already been slid into place.."

Puzzler only hoped he would try and use the terminal in front of him, knowing the damage it would cause.

Nomad had been standing in the hallway for several minutes and he had drawn no attention whatsoever. He thought this was quite odd, he figured posing as the leader of the LoS would bring him some heavy competition, but no hero or even guard contested him whatsoever. Maybe they knew of his abilities and knew what he could do? Maybe they knew he was an imposter as Gambler was engaged else where; there were many possibilities at hand. However, Nomad did not arrive at the JLI base to simply play decoy, this just hastened his plan to it's next stage. He began strolling up the hall and at the end, hallways extended out from both his immediate left and right. As he glanced to his immediate right two guards coming up the hall towards him shouted, "Hey you! Halt!" They clearly had no idea who he was, two human guards to Nomad was more playtime than it was a fight and they would be no competition whatsoever to the man he was impersonating.

Nomad casually shifted his body right, facing the now running armed guards. They began raising their weapons, "On your knee's now!' This was going to be great fun Nomad thought. As he was asked, the ever-changing Nomad slowly dropped to his knee's, putting his hands behind his head. The guards began bickering with another; they were not sure if they should detain him or kill him on the spot. Little did they know, none of those things would happen. Nomad stood back up, and as he did he began to reveal his true identity, his skin and suit seemed to almost melt away revealing his dark-earthen like body and massive, grotesque proportions. There was silence as the guards looked up at the shape shifters towering figure and gulped. Nomad proceeded to give his trademark evil, sadistic grin and raised his right arm high in the air. The guards began firing but their bullets were useless as they just harmlessly passed through Nomad's muddy body. Nomad dropped his fist with vicious force, turning it into a hammer as it fell, crushing one guard completely into the floor. Nomad threw his left arm forward, forming a whip like tentacle and wrapping it around the other guards neck. Nomad began to squeeze the life from the guard as he lifted him from the ground. His rifle dropped with a thud, and Nomad watched the life drain out of the man's eyes and his body became limp. Nomad let his body drop to the floor; the guard's body contained as much life as the rifle he had dropped no more than a few seconds prior.

Nomad was desperate for some action, whether it be sneaking around or fighting the JLI head on as he could do either with great proficiency. That was what made him so unique, his abilities made him a jack-of-all trades, versatile, unpredictable and exceptionally deadly. It was unlikely that most of the JLI had ever fought a shape-shifter before, much less one with as much skill as Nomad. He than remembered one of their newer members who had been overseeing the current operation, handing intel to memebers of the LoS and causing chaos behind the scenes. The genius known as Puzzler would certainly have something for him to do.

@Puzzler "Puzzler, this is Nomad, my deceptive plan has failed. Contact all other team members and ask if they would like a hand having some fun with the JLI. If @_Creed_ needs a distraction to get those dupes where he needs to be with those explosives tell him to let me know. And if anybody else needs a hand I'll be there as quickly as possible."

@_Creed_ Sprinting behind the duplicitous Treo, Surkit runs right behind them. Automatic weapons fire per second rounds at his torso and head. Instead of dodging, he puts himself in the line of as many as possible. The kinetic energy builds in his favor, the bullets filling him with energy as mid-sprint his skin turns tarry black, cracks of blue energy perspiring, his eyes leaking blue plasma. With the height of his reserves met, a sudden burst of discharge jettisons him forward. He's within arms length of one of the dupes. Rather than grasping at him and creating a secondary to this infininitally multiplying man, he aims a finger at the back of his head. The dupe feels him on his neck and attempts to run faster with futile fearful rush of adrenaline carrying him. The pointed finger bobs in the air as Surkit surgically begins slowly pushing it inwards, "If your the real one...I'm sorry" The finger slowly continues to slide into the dupes skull. They say you have no nerves in your brain, there for pain can't be felt directly. Maybe it was the ridiculously slow cracking of his skull that caused the screaming. His finger now sits knuckle deep in the dupes cranium, a still and frozen look of terror on his face s he's left standing with still spinning feet, hanging from one finger. Bishop places him slowly on the ground.

He crunches into his tooth comm, "Surkit to team, counter intelligence, the duplication's can only make more with high speed kinetics, Windsor, for once your going to have to take the slow and painful route." He scoops the bombs from the lifeless dupe, strapping them to his chest and running after the others, a slight water in his eyes. These enemies had forced his hand. It took him three years to bypass the instinct to kill his opponent, and they tore down his concept in a day. Woe to the enemy who encounters this Gigawatt Juggernaut next

@Surkit: Josh emerged from the shadows just behind Surkit, grinning at his determination to chase after the bait. He started a completely silent sprint into the other direction. Seeing the service vent on the wall he pulled out his grapple gun and fired a tether onto the vent, pulling it completely off the wall. With a perfect form, he valued into the service ducts and dove head first down the long drop. Pipes and other pieces of industrial equipment almost clip his head off as he descends at a faster and faster speed. Finally seeing the ground, Josh deployed his red wings and halted to a near stop just in time to gently touch the floor. "Gambler, this is the Rumor...I am at a critical location in the base, beginning sabotage now..". Josh pulls a handful of small cartridges out of his utility belt and starts sticking them in very small nooks and crannies, though the capsules didn't seem like much, each was equivalent to a package of C-4. Next thing on Josh's list was to attach a small uplink device into any of the routing ports for the base's network. The assassin found one easily enough and pressed his finger against the sealed port, after a moment, the suit flicked on it's high precision finger tip cutter and Josh made a perfect square for him to reach into.

"Puzzler..I connected the uplink device to a port, that should give you more flexibility with what you can do..". After Josh removed his finger from pressing on his cowl he heard the horrific cries of Creed. Without a second thought he used his grapple gun to fire and fly up to where he dropped from. Within moments he was behind Surkit, sprinting full force towards him. "An electric user..I need to make sure that doesn't put me out of the fight.." Josh pressed a button on his belt that made his suit flash blue for just a moment, making the fibers in the suit a grounder for electricity. "I think it's time you stopped putting your fingers through people's skulls.." Josh announced his presence. Next he went for a solid strike to the back of his pelvis with the intent to shatter it, followed by trying to jab at his throat when he turned around and then try for a series of pressure point strikes to his chest.

A few days ago- A Spider's Call

Angeni's abrupt disappearance struck cunning Impero as a disappointing turn of events. He had come with the intent of doing battle with one of Greece's most celebrated warriors and heroes, the very pinnacle of brilliance in the art of both armed and unarmed combat, but sadly, against her will as it seemed, she was now otherwise located. And while she vanished in an aesthetic display of divine pyrotechnics, his agenda was more combat-oriented. "Hmm.. how unexpected", he uttered, his arms regally folded behind his back, his alluring yet dark eyes calmly but briefly staring at the area where Angeni once stood. "Ah well", the masked enigma shrugged apathetically, turning away to notice the recent arrival of trusted teammate, Fowler. Making a rather extravagant announcement of his arrival to the battle scene in the form of what appears to be an exaggerated series of war dances, Impero takes the time to observe his odd teammate before a composed yet amused chuckle escapes the poised assassin.

Having already decided on his following course of action, the mysterious manipulator takes the time to inform his battle-hungry comrade, "Quite the entertaining display I must say", he paused, utilizing the technological capabilities of his mask to reach Fowler's communicator. While they were within visible distance of each other, they were too far for simple verbal exchanges unaided by any means of technologically-advanced communications. "On to business Mr. Fowler. My prime target, Angeni, is now otherwise located. My attention has been shifted to the JLI's other members", he paused, taking notice of Lady Liberty's abrupt leave as well, seemingly off to do battle with the closest Justice League International members. Instantly having his mask lock onto the signal given off by Lady Liberty's communications device, he continued, "And it seems as though Ms. Liberty has left to fight our nearest enemies", cunning Impero stated, careful not to utter his close ally's real name in such an insecure location, after all, who knows who could be listening. "If you wish to follow me Mr. Fowler, you know how to. But as of now, I will be in our ally's location", Impero concluded, his intentions were to now to fight alongside Lady Liberty as well as observe the progress she has made since he began training her in the lethal art of swordsmanship.

Utilizing his expressionless mask's advanced technological capabilities, the masked enigma established a systematic link between the his mask's several micro-supercomputers and the main operator of his Trion-microweave suit. The link would enable The Genius to effectively teleport himself to the location of Lady Liberty's communicator, allowing his suit's intricate computerized operator to read the signal captured by the mask's advanced sensors. After all, it was far more practical than taking the gamble of teleporting towards the signal of the nearest LoS communicator, his objectives demanded that he observe his most recent pupil's newly developed capabilities in battle. Instantly, a purple-hued sphere envelops the deadly strategist as he vanishes in a heartbeat, the teleportation leaving no existing remnants behind.

In the blink of an eye, the cryptic puppeteer reappeared in what appeared to be a well-established base belonging to the Justice League International. Quickly, his snake-like gaze caught the sight of the blonde beauty, Lady Liberty charging towards one of the JLI members, Edward it appeared, she seemed intent on using her Trion-sword against him. A pleased smirk manifests beneath the intimidating mask, finally, enigmatic Impero will have the privilege of witnessing what has become of Lara's sword-fighting skill since their last training session. However, another hero appeared to protect Edward from the incoming assault. It was Wolf Spider, a hero well known for his rather comical and cheerful demeanor. "Let us see if an arachnid's webs are deadlier than that of a manipulator", he thought, quickly hurling an adamantium shuriken towards the web that Wolf Spider shot towards Lara's head, his intention was simply to cut it. Simultaneously, with his lightning-fast reflexes, another projectile was hurled towards Wolf Spider, an adamantium shuriken aiming to puncture the hero's lungs. This was not the initial attack however, it was simply to gain his attention.