Angels and Demons

The Inner Circle, Champions HQ, New York City

The Champions of Peace. Such an ironic term for their operation. How easy it was, deceiving the public. Playing to their fears, preying on their weakness. And the best part? They adore us. Infallible defenders, always honest, always trusted. Ready to save them from themselves.

Victor's dark armor whirred with activity, a routine diagnostic being run on all of it's systems. His nanomachines swirled dangerously behind his eye, changing it's color from green to blue, then pitch black. Then they re-adjusted to their normal brown. The machines made his skin crawl (literally) as they returned the cells to their previous locations. Now he appeared as he always did before. Such disguises were inconvenient, but necessary. If they were to successfully keep this charade going, they would need to operate with the utmost caution. Watchers were everywhere, ready to pounce on the first mistake, a mistake that would put the entire organization in jeopardy. But it didn't matter how he looked; not here, not among his Inner Circle. A group of extremely powerful like-minded individuals, each with the intelligence and the conviction, unrestrained by morality, that was necessary to accomplish what they had in mind. For a short period of time, Victor had entertained the idea of releasing his nanomachines into the room and enslaving them all. But...they were all incredibly capable beings. And they would all make incredibly dangerous foes. Provoking them would not be well-advised, to say the least. Odds are that his microscopic attack wouldn't even work against most of them. Besides, Victor admired their intellect. It would be a shame to wipe away such works of art.

"Gentlemen," he spoke, standing in the middle of the room, "and ladies. We all know why we're here. We all know what we are capable of. And the general public does not. Yet." His helm was retracted, though his armor's gears functioned silently, in constant motion across his form as he spoke. "They want heroes. They want angels. Well, I'm afraid they're going to get demons instead." He gestured at the hologram in the middle of the room. It had previously been showing the newsreels of the new team's introduction in Central Park. Now, it instead showed footage of a masked adventurer, blazing with power, performing various acts of altruism. "It is time to begin our deception in earnest. To showcase our power, and simultaneously rid the world of one more fool who would stand in our way."

"I present to you, the so-called Amazing Angel. We're going to kill him."

Briefing Room, Champions HQ; Twenty minutes later

Victor strode across the briefing room, his disguise intact, his armor sporting the proud colors of the United States. He held his helmet under his arm. His face had been remodeled once more, his entire appearance changed. Even his voice was no longer the same. The sinister, ominous tone had been replaced with a friendly Middle-American accent, as if he truly was just a young man who had grown up on a farm in Kansas. A real American dream, he had told the press. Just a simple young boy who wanted to help his country any way he could. It was almost comical how they ate up his lies. A small-town kid from a Kansas farm? Ha! Where did they think his armor had come from? His exploding home planet? It was truly laughable. No, ma'am. The government made this possible. I told them I wanted to help, and they gave me this, so that I can protect and serve. I'll keep you safe. I promise! The imbeciles! It was like they were asking to be ruled!

It was for this reason that he was chuckling quietly in the right before the meeting with the main part of the team. Both those aware of their ulterior motives, and those ignorant of what they intended. He reminded himself that this was not a happy occasion; they were going to deliver the information about their very first mission as a team. Clearing his throat (and putting on that stupid American accent), he addressed the team.

"Hello, everyone. As I'm sure you all know, we recently lost our Vice President in that tragic incident. He was a real American man, and it was not his time. But now...we have information that nobody else has ever seen before. Information on the whereabouts of someone who had a hand in his death. This may come as a shock to some of you. It is possible, no, it is known to us now, that one of the men responsible for our loss is another member of our superhero community." The vid-screens came online, displaying pictures of their target. "The Amazing Angel has been deceiving all of us for a long time." It's hard not to laugh at this. "Not only could he have prevented the death of our Vice President, he was crucial to the entire operation. And now, it's up to us to stop him." Damn, this is hilarious. Look at them! They're so surprised that this friend of theirs could do something so awful! I need to watch myself. Even so much as a smile and it's all blown. "We need to avenge our Vice President (Dammit, what was his name?) so that he may rest in peace. The American people deserve justice. And it's justice that we will bring them. We will bring them, and our Vice President, peace." He stepped back from the podium, awaiting the stream of questions and denials from the Regulars that was sure to follow his little speech.

Angels and Demons. That's what we are. Let the games begin.

Closed RP between Dark Champions and Amazing Angel. Enjoy!

@jack_:

It had been a few weeks since Victor had invited him to become one of his "Elite" something Wesley took quite an attention to. He enjoyed being someone of power, and this Inner Circle he now was a part of was almost more than he could handle. Excitement filled his body as he stood next to Victor as he made his speech. Victor had given him a new set of toys to play with, his entire body was donned with a sort of armor. Made of something he couldn't quite put his finger on, it was durable and versatile as well. Able to contort and move with his body, almost like a second skin you could say. He played with it when the others were not paying direct attention to him.

He was part of something bigger within the Inner Circle of the Dark Champions, on the outside the Champions were to be seen as a force of good. But deep within they planned the destruction of various opposing forces for good. They were something new, yet at the same time they were all old news in some forms. Wesley had changed his own identity for this cabal of villains, to them they knew him as Wesley Odepius but outside the doors of the Inner Circle he was Damien Pious a former Marine and all around good soldier. For brief moments he hated the lying he had to perform everyday but then the knowledge that they were systematically bringing the downfall of the heroes of the world brought a smile to his face.

As Victor ended his little speech among the Inner Circle, Wesley pulled down his new mask as Damien Pious and began to make his way towards the Briefing room.

Champions HQ

They called them the Regulars, and they were exactly as they sounded. Regular Joe schmoes who fought for truth and justice. Simply standing around such idiots almost made him sick to his stomach. But he played his part as Damien, giving them a detailed history of his new persona. Damien was a former soldier who had fought for his country and in the process been severely wounded in combat. His face almost nonexistent he wore a mask that had the flag etched across it. He thought it was ironic that he would wear such a thing on his face, but he knew they would believe it.

As each of them heard the mission and what it entailed, he simply moved around the room watching each of there reactions. His suit giving him the power of energy manipulation and redirection, he formed a ball of energy in his palm. Tossing it from hand to hand as Victor spoke and he made his way around the room. He slowly leaned against the far wall, tossing the ball into the air and forming another juggling the two he made his new appearance truthful. He was known as a trouble maker, Damien was someone who you could call "Foolish, and Goofy" always playing tricks. He waited for Victor to finish his speech before slowly rolling a a ball of energy underneath one of the Regulars.

Destiny had been one of the first to sign up when she heard. Recently she had grown tired of the unseen games of the world wanted to take the initiative. The world needed it, the most known 'heroes' seemed to be a teenager with a katana who might as well of been a serial killer, and a radioactive gun lover. Other titans lingered they hadn't made the splash that was needed though. Presidents were dying, Vice Presidents were dropped on live TV. Many villains came out in the open and said what they were. Yet still walked free.

If the world continued in this unsavory way there would be no end to the oppression. War seamed inevitable a brewing storm that had already had open battlefields. Destiny couldn't sit back anymore. She felt obligated to be Atlas. Place the world on her shoulders and carry it to a safe harbor. This made her a seamless pawn to the unseen and unknown malevolent game. Given enough time and Requiem would likely go down a martyr to a lie.

She didn't question the target given, this 'Amazing' Apathetic. She couldn't call him an angel, he didn't seem like a savior. If she recalled correctly he had led the Victories, a faction of powerful aspiring heroes. They were nowhere to be seen not heard from, hopes and dreams fed to the masses and spat upon. "My only query is where can we find him?" Her foot stepped on a ball rolling by her from a Damien Pious. "Do you mind?" Her tone seemed overly polite and respectful as she lightly kicked the sphere back to the soldier.

"What about that one?" Sarina shook her head "to small." Blair countered with a "but it's so god damn cute" which triggered a smile. "Ha you cussed think I'm rubbing off on you. And no look at him he's about as intimidating as a squirrel." The smile faded "I like squirrels ok. And you can't rub off on me. You are me." This brought about a sigh "don't start the psychological debate again. It's hard for me to resist and we both know will just go in circles."

"What about a Pomeranian?" The image got Sarina to squeal "oh my god it's adorable!" Blair feeling triumphant continued "so that's a yes right? Please tell me that's a yes. I'll buy you a pink rocket launcher." Sarina continued to skim options. "I don't do pink. I also probably shouldn't use a fcking rocket launcher that'd be cheap ever play a game with auto lock rockets it sucks hardcore. And nope." A side of the teens mind was suddenly plagued by a bombardment of pink. "See what you made me do Rin? And why no?" Sarina acted like the pink was physically agonizing. "Because I want a wolf, come on look at Snow here that bitch is beautiful." Blair laughed "you got like no money and barely manage to brush your hair you think you could honestly handle that?"

"Oh crap! That meeting thing hope it's not like high school damned if you show up a minute late." Rushing to the designated room sarina manipulated sound making her entrance silent. She stayed low to the ground trying to stay out of sight and out of mind. She'd missed everything said knew the mission only do to knowing the image of the hero. "Solid plan guys really your brilliant top notch stuff. Really looking forward to that one part." Her every word just trying to kiss ass and come off informed.

Sarina knew in time these operations would lead somewhere bad. Before such would come to pass however a lot of good would possibly be done. Making every hero a Regular and leaving the Circle as the villains in power. This would leave the only baddies in a predictable place. That and while Blair hesitated about what was justifiable Sarina didn't mind really.

Champions HQ

There comes a time when a boy becomes a man; some pretend to be men, and those are the most apparent boys. Humans shy away from man's natural instincts, its natural tendencies and forget that we are animals. They believe themselves to be the most sophisticated, the most intelligent; but in reality, they are the opposite. Humans are the only race to nurse the weak and thus make themselves weaker, they have forgotten what surviving means and their morality rides the coattails of pity.

Then there are people like Valken, people who do what needs to be done to bring everything to equilibrium. He has seen much throughout his time travels through history and has killed many men; he is an assassin and superior to any humans. His physicals reminiscent of the humans close relatives of apes coupled with his unique homo superior powers has made him the perfect predator.

Unlike the other team members, Valken had no need to create an alter ego. Those who had witnessed his skill and grace, usually were the ones falling victim to his perfected skills. They had only identified him by his signature hooded appearance and his name was only carried in terms of nicknames; only the Wanderer's knew him by the name of Valken. He was however, in need of new "costume" - something a little more friendly to the public as Victor had suggested.

Many viewed Lilith Libertina as a menace. A villain who seeks to stomp out the infestation that would call themselves heroes or protectors of the world's citizens. The media would go as far as to name her Lady Grimm, a moniker she was neither fond of nor rejected, but simply accepted. These accusations and theories wrong...to a degree. Lilith was a menace and a plague upon the world, but she lacked the desire to stomp out any group of heroes. She simply wants what many women want. The world to embrace its truest form, to break off the shackles or morality and government and welcome the storm that is chaos. To fill there insatiable hunger for blood and kill each other so the weak will be eradicated from the earth's soil and the strong will rise alone to usher in an era of survival. Survival of the fittest at its most prominent environment.

If Lilith had to pose as a hero with other villains who had their own desires, then so be it. A small cost of her pride to feed the bigger beast that would grow in everyone's minds. Villains, Heroes, mutants, government agents, assassins, cults. It didn't matter. The instinct for survival grows in everyone and she intended to release it.

The heroes of the world have been lacking in their efforts to quell the revolution that is evil, though. They have lost the motivation to fight what can be seen as a losing battle. Lilith will change that. She will fan the flames of heroes by posing as a major threat so the war to end all wars will begin.

Champions HQ

Lilith didn't care if the world knew that she was posing as a member of the Champions, but for the sake of progress, she completely changed her normal look and figure to match something that would instill hope into the world. Hope. Such a disgusting emotion that restrains beings from achieving their true selves. Despite this thought Lilith walks into the meeting room gleaming with fake pride.

"Hope I'm not late."

She faked it all. The smile through white teeth and the glistening of her abnormally blue eyes. All a ploy. If she wanted to be a productive member within the team, she had to embrace her alter ego just in case there was anyone present that she should be cautious of. She walked in a mesmerizing stride through the room gauging everyone. Her slender legs moved slowly, tapping her boots along the floor and her hands resting on her hips waiting for someone to allow her to drop the charade. Her normally ebony hair is now a brilliant blonde that almost seems to glow in the dimness of the room.

"So...?"

HQ

It was a Shi Taaran tradition, that before a hunt one would spill their own blood as a sacrifice. Obviously, Ezekiel wasn't going to do this here- mortal, human blood was useless, and would be of no use to him if he spilled it. However unfortunate it was, he knew that he was going to have to leave a lot of his old traditions behind.

Right now, however, he needed to show exactly what he was made out to be- a bachelor billionaire teenager. Grinning lightly, he raised his hand and made himself float up into the air, crossing his legs in mid levitation. Comfort was confusion- a rouse, to mask the beasts within. Ezekiel planned on not having his new teammates see the beast within him. If they did... they'd all be sorry.

After all, when the time came, hardly any of them would survive. This team was a glove- a glove for him to hide and wait until the time came to strike against the planet that had hurt his so dearly. "So... Where do we start?" He spoke nonchalantly, eyeing his fingernails as he awaited his direct demands.

"Something is not right" Angel sits at a nondescript and most importantly non traceable computer at an undisclosed location, lit only by the primitive display. Re watching his message to the world.

"It hasn't been for a loooong time." The webcam light dims to a dull dark red, it finishes capturing what he believed to be his last days on this plain of existence, "I haven't been the best that I could have been, I've made a lot of mistakes, haven't come through on a lot of promises I made to people who really believed in me" he pauses for a few fleeting moments, reflecting on all those people he failed to protect, failed to help. "But I'm not the man I've been painted as, you really can't believe everything you here on the news." he sniggers to himself, the pale boney face then reverts back. "I've bee spending too much time on this old rust bucket." Tapping the side of the practically pre-historic computer a lung full of dust explodes from every nook and cranny, it continues to record "I've been searching a couple of things, things I shouldn't want to know but now I do, one thing in particular... 'How to Kill the Amazing Angel...'"

Leaving the decrepit cesspool of an undercover apartment he begins the long walk until his inevitable capture, for miles theirs nothing, for miles he imagines that is could all be in his head, the weakness, the sickness, the paranoia.

"and honestly... people have been coming up with some pretty good ideas, ideas that could even work."

A long black limousine parks on the curb alongside the supernatural savant, a tall man in a black suit and a cruel face steps onto the sidewalk, blocking Angel's path "Direct mission from the Champions of Peace, you're needed in Washington asap."

"Darkness fields, disenchantments... severing my ties to this planet, ending my life."

"The chopper's this way sir" In the ride over he had altered his attire to a more business oriented white suit and peacoat combination, he decided not to question the men in suits or the helicopters, he knew what this was.

"and I bet you're wondering why I'm still going along with this huh?"

All he could hear was the helicopter blades, each individual chop lingered in his ear, like his whole world had been slowed down to a crawl.

*WHOP*

"C'mon, I figured all this out so I'm no that stupid"

*WHOP*

"Of course I've got a plan"

*WHOP*

"but my guts telling me they've got one for me to"

*WHOP*

"I just want to set the record straight on a couple of things"

*WHOP*

"I never stole anything from anyone,"

*WHOP*

"I tried my best at everything I did but I just guess that wasn't enough."

*WHOP*

"If you're watching this video"

*WHOP*

"I guess it means I was right"

*WHOP*

"F$ck me I didn't want to be right"

*WHOP*

"All I can say is good luck..."

"You'll need it."

He steps off of the helicopter and onto the freshly paved landing pad, at the end of the catwalk a man he doesn't recognise greets him with a friendly smile and an outstretched hand.

I guess I was right after all...

@amazingangel:

The Clouds Burst

Victor's armor glinted in the dying light of day, the red, white and blue displayed for all to see. His squadmates were stationed downtown in Times Square, ordered to remain hidden. They were not to attack until he gave the order. His blue optic sensors picked up a copter coming in from the East. So he has taken the bait, and so, it begins. The copter landed on the heli-pad adjacent to Victor, the blades deafening. His audio filters eliminated the noise, focusing in on the heartbeat of his target. Not yet. He urged to rush him, to rip him, to tear him to pieces. One could say that Victor was feeling a little "bottled up." He had quite a few grievances against this world, and he desired with every fiber of his being to let loose, to unleash the monster that is The Imperator Imperatorum. But that was something an animal would do, and Victor is no animal. It is his duty to be superior. He loosened his muscles as the copter took off, willing himself to appear relaxed. And now...let us parley. He casually extended his hand for a handshake, his words amplified by the vocoder in his helm.

"Well, well, the Amazing Angel. We meet at last. I must say, it is quite an honor to meet someone of your caliber. It's possible you may have seen my team and I on television. We only want to help the world, my friend," he said grasping his foe's hand. He shook it. For one moment in time, there was a calm before the storm. Then the clouds burst.

Still grasping his hand tightly, Victor attempted to deliver a devastating neck chop to his foe, the back of his hand lined with nanobots. If he drew blood, the microscopic machines would ideally diffuse into his bloodstream, weakening him further as he bled onto the rooftop. At the exact moment this maneuver would be complete, Victor would swing him over his head and throw him violently into the streets below, where the rest of the squad waited.

"My name is the Model Citizen. We are the Champions of Peace. You are about to be pacified."

He breathed one word to the rest of the squad, audible only to those with team commlinks.

"Engage."

He had finally decided on his new costume; it portrayed the illusion of what the humans perceived as a "hero", but yet, still retained his essence. He wasn't used to such theatrics - acting was not his forte; thankfully his helmet masked his expression. His typical Wanderer assassins garb had been ditched. Now he was clad in a more armoured appearance with a combination of tights - something he despised, but did so for the purpose of his role. His helmet was fashioned after a bird of prey; the Americans would more than likely label it as an eagle. Americans - he hated them more than the damn tights he had to wear; the helmet would be a hawk.

Then, Valken heard the helicopter bringing their target in, the blades chopping the air made an echoing sound of the surrounding buildings as it neared. Upon landing, Victor greeted the soon - to - be deceived hero; the rest of the team awaited anxiously for the command. Amazing Angel, as he called himself, seemed oblivious to the plans at work which is exactly what they wanted.

The command was given, a single, simple word that sounded throughout the teams commlinks, "Engage."

Immediately, Valken reacted, his aggression seeming to radiate from his body like a heat. A mace was summoned in his hand as he lunged at Amazing Angel, aiming for his torso, a strike that would feel like getting hit by a bus.

@amazingangel: @jack_: @valken:

"Amazing Angel vs. A team of impostors...Hm. An ironic way to die isn't it?"

Lilith mumbled to her self as she strapped her feet into her boots and checked her comm link, readying herself for the order to come out. She was in a strong team that posed a serious threat to anyone that would stand up against them, but they were all strangers for the most part. She took this in consideration, trusting no one but her own instincts.

"Engage."

"Finally" She cracked her neck in a quick rotation and flew into the air tailing the man with the wide wing span and bronze helmet. A ridiculous outfit, but Lilith had no room to judge with her own false costume. Her ally dived down to attack the target, directly going on the offensive. His quick move clearly told Lilith to play a support role for now. She stayed levitating in the air as she dropped projectiles of pure violet energy based bombs.

@amazingangel:

Requiem and Syapt remained crouched on a roof top awaiting the moment to take action. One was a hero a woman desperate to burn anything impure or with fault so that all the world would rise to a better domain. The other was a teenage punk more out for thrills and having no ambitions beyond that. A regular iconic inspiration and a rogue of emerald eradication. Either case however was dedicated to the given task of breaking down the agent of the heavens.

Requiem an agent of fire and blazing retribution had developed pyrokinesis to a point that she could ignite a single molecule or an entire city all with a singular thought. Syapt able to manipulate the electromagnetic spectrum and sound pointed out the exact location of the amazing one'a heart. With that aid Requiem then reached for that most vital of muscles and aimed to light it up like the sun. Easy to execute for her, hard to be prepared for, and masked by the cover of more obvious assaults.

Meanwhile Syapt readied her own offensive measures. She'd concocted a rail gun magnetic accelerating coils allowing the finite dominating performance electromagnetism permitted for weapons such as this. Her unique skill set allowing her to guide the coming bullet regardless of aim and she was a good shot in the first place. The bullet was made of the metal she embodied that of Evolium a bullet contending with the rarest of metals in its piercing capacity and able to survive the deadly speeds of four hundred fifty thousand miles per hour. It's lethal nature wasn't just at it's speed and piercing capacity however but also in the simple sound. When it passed the air or struck it's mark Syapt would amplify the sound to a volume that would shatter concrete. Quite possibly shattering armor bones and or ear drums.

"Engage"

The sudden shock of a well place strike to a vulnerable area, the incredible force able to slice through human flesh like a well maintained blade, he knew this was a trap but he wasn't on his guard, almost like he wanted to take the first hit, wanted to see how much he could handle... Then he could return the favour.

The strike tore through the faux flesh wrapped around his ethereal innards, nearly decapitating him in the drop of a hat, beams of blinding white light shone from the open wound as his head dangled from the few strands of skin and muscle, beaming into the sky like a searchlight. With his right hand he grasps a hand full of his thick bushy hair and drags his hanging head to it's anatomically conventional position, the incredible glare hums to a dull glow as his 'skin' begins to reattach itself, white shimmering strand by strand. Fully repaired he turn his face toward the pseudo patriot, wrinkling his brow and narrowing his eyes, glaring furiously, tonight he was in no mood to get murdered.

"You're gonna have to do a lot better than that."

Angel raised his staff to his chest, preparing to launch his own counter offensive, malforming the shapeless weapon into either a small dagger or a large club, he hadn't quite decided on which yet. Suddenly a unique sound began to enter his ears, separating itself from honking horns and yelling crowds of the metropolitan jungle, a sound that as a self proclaimed 'Angel' he should have been able to recognise instantly, the sound of flapping wings. Catching the rapidly advancing winged predator out of the corner of his eye he was left with little time, instinctively the Angelic anarchist attempted to alter his staff into a makeshift shield, the half baked concoction proved less than successful at absorbing the force of the oncoming strike from what seemed like a mace.

Sent flying off the building by the powerful blow Angel considers formulating a battle plan, did he want to capture his attackers or simply immobilise them long enough to make a confident escape, would he call for help or does he feel confident in his abilities to dispatch them on his own or maybe he'd just throw caution to the wind and ditch the plan all together... yeah that last one seems more his style. Now the Masterful Mystic needed a way back to the tall skyscraper, an opportunity to hit back at his 'amateurish' attackers, crafting his powerful magic stick into a gravelling hook attached to an unbreakable white chain, he wraps it around the buildings communications relay with a well time swing and throw, the chain suddenly tightens twirling him back around to the skyscraper.

The Plucky Paladin prepares for his next move, strengthening the muscles and bones in his legs to better absorb the impact of the eventual clash with the birdman's armoured chest protection. *WHOOSH WHOOSH WHOOS* The sound of short flurry of destructive energy orbs blasted his ears out like the horn of an oncoming motor, compromising his entire thrown together attack strategy, whilst still floating in mid air the Angel manages to twist himself a full one hundred and eighty degrees, catching the unexpected orbs in his multi function spiritual sidearm and systematically reprogramming and redistributing them back to his attacker as his own non-lethal concussion orbs.

*CLUNK CLUNK* *WHAP!!* Okay maybe this next attack would have been the better 'dear in the headlights' metaphor. Suddenly the Divine Defender could feel his grip loosening on his Heavenly Blunderbuss... actually he couldn't feel any grip at all, he gazes down at the gaping hole in his chest and the stump where his arm used to be, whatever that last weapon was it had been fast enough to catch him off guard and more importantly lost him his only long ranged means of attack, something he had a feeling he'd need in this what seemed like a five on one assault. He began to rapidly regrow his lost organs and appendages as he continues his 'liu kang' style flying kick to the winged warrior's chest.

...Although come to think of it the healing process was taking a lot longer then usual, almost as if his internal anatomy was attempting to combat a combined assault of both highly intelligent nano machines and his entire molecular system combusting in a matter of seconds, he could tell this was gonna be a long night.

@amazingangel:

Syapt was in this primarily for the thrills and joys of being a bad ass. Requiem to try and see a glorious and hope filled future. They were drastically diffrent from each other. As a unit however they functioned with drastic efficiency. Collaboratively they had already designed there next move. Plotting to further use the Champions as cover for lethal measures. So far they weren't impressed both to proud to feel at risk.

In the past there were many on the Victories the conflict could have been overwhelming in the oppositions favor. None here seemed like they had the indomitable strength of Thee Champion. Of all those present none were as swift as the heroic teen Saraph. Surely Vengeance could of outsmarted the assailants if he didn't have an invention. And there may be no rival to the skill in magic that Angel possessed. Age of Victory had subsided however all that remained was to clip the wings of the final bearer of false hope.

Similarly the duo wasn't impressed much by their associates. They still seemed to be using the one by one antics of futile use. Sarina and Destiny believed in harmonious patterns. If one was countered it was almost certain the other would carry through. Despite various effective blows their prey kept fighting. No matter however so long as the team kept the Angel busy the duo was comfortable they could put him down.

"R I won't be able to focus on invisibility can you get in my head and cover that." The pyromancer nodded. Syapt had control of the electromagnetic spectrum, part of that included visible light with concentration one could be invisible. Requiem using her overwhelming telepathy was able to control such for the jade haired teen. While Requiem focused on that Sarina focused on moving about a platform of metal they took to, while simultaneously dropping all sound around them. Thus they were a soundless invisible sniper platform. With that another round was chambered as Sarina focused on the heart of the angel.

Another high speed round soundlessly shot forward sealing the heroes heart. If it managed to find target Syapt would shatter the round turning it to shrapnel. Successful performance would leave a rather large quantity of holes with agonizing size. On a regular person they'd be without heart and falling apart. Of course this was not a normal foe and this wasn't a one woman operation the bullet came with another attack.

Flame burning inside of the angel Requiem sought to back it up with spontaneous combustion. As the internal fires attempted to target organs an external flame would target flesh and muscle. She wanted to incinerate the foe. Requiem was however also having her doubts about this. More she fought the more unsure she was about how justifiable this retaliation was. Ending a hero even a lackluster one was no harm to those who actually were doing wickedry. Was she really acting on the command of a hero?