Know Evil

The Red Cardinal tossed Y’s body on the ground with little to no remorse; she slowly backed away as the boy Y once called son. “Alistair” she whispered, as if she were almost in awe. The young boy parted a sea of red clad assassins, walking as if he were some sort of dignitary. With each step he took towards Y intercept; a Cardinal bowed in his presence.

His jet black hair had been tainted with white along the sides; he was dressed in traditional Khata compliments of the Cardinal Monastery. She saw no remorse in his eyes, not that she ever expected to. No one would ever know how Alistair felt about them, given the music he always had playing around him. He said nothing, she said nothing; the two simply stared into the pupils of each other on a mutual understanding. “That’ll be all Surreal” Alistair said, doing a half turn towards an emerald glow coming from behind the endless hordes of assassins. “Mother, the Lazarus pit waits!” He screamed holding his hands in the air, igniting a thunderous response from the congregation.

Y was pushed towards the edge of the boiling green concoction; it smelled horrible but the marvels it just so happened to be capable of managed to scare the cocaine goddess. “My mother, my true mother shall be reborn; we will take this land” he said, pressing his foot upon the chest of Y intercept. As he did so, the Cardinals around him began chanting a mesmerizing chant, one synonymous with voo-doo. His brow bent just a bit, only because it was pushed by his Machiavellian grin; he said nothing, she said nothing, with one thrust of his foot he kicked the cocaine goddess into the concoction.

The moment her skin touched the boiling concoction, she let loose a deafening screaming, and began thrashing around much like a serpent. The chanting grew louder, and more erotic; the fizzing on the bubbles suddenly stopped and the Black Cardinal came rising from the pit. Just her presence gave off a pressure so strong, that it knocked whoever was standing directly around the pit off their feet.

“How was your temporary dwelling” Alistair asked, referring to her temporary stay in Cassidy Lockhart’s head. “Twas both disturbing and enlightening” she quickly responded, stepping into her black cloak still in the pit.

“My body is currently in the clutches of my estranged husband…retrieve it” she didn’t speak with malice but with a sort of elegance. Death had rid her of her debaucheries peace would finally come to both her and the Cardinals.

The transformation was almost complete; her body was needed to fulfill her completion, Y intercept’s body was dowsed in a whole host of sins. Not only that, much like Mercy; Y was strong willed which meant every now and then she could fill the snake hiss.

“This pit is like no other; only the most brilliant scientist could conceive something so precious” she said, stroking the sides of the pit. The moment Z’s foot touched the ground, the whole South Cardinal island shook. “Death and Destruction hath pass, and there was a great earthquake; the glory of the Black Cardinal reveal itself” Alistair quoted, an excerpt from her teachings.

“Go forth and proclaim the goodness of your lord, the Black Cardinal has returned rejoice” she said, with her hands extended outwards towards them. “The world’s going to take notice to your arrival mother” he said, stroking her jet black hair that was beginning to turn; blonde.

“I want them to come, I want them to come, I want them to know, I want them to know what has happened here today…” her voice trailed off at the end, as if her body temporarily entered some type of ecstasy.

The Cardinals marched through the streets; rejoicing at the return of their lord, as for Z her number one priority was gaining her body for Jean; with that on the back burner for now, she commanded the Cardinals to dispose of the “lesser religions” based in SCI

"Avoid having your ego so close to your position that when your position falls, your ego goes with it."-Colin Powell

Grimm City:

A note arrives on the doorsteps of each Father of Crime stamped with the symbol of change

SPOILER WARNING: Click here to reveal hidden content.

"My fellow terrors. My men of blood and fortune. There is a rise in our city. One that if left unchecked, will be the beginning of the end of us all. If you value your lives, and you value your ways of living, however they may be, Arrive at Grimm Stadium, eight O'clock tonight. This is not a request. Come to me to find your salvation...Or stay home and cower behind your false security of a large slab of wood and a piece of metal. The choice is yours."

"Adamantly yours, Flucks"

GRIMM STADIUM

Heavy rain pours above the stadium, a symphony of treble cascading in random repetition. Each entrance is unlocked and manned by heavily armored police task force units under the payroll and benefits of John Bailey. These figure heads of the city, they were not given power, they stole it like the thugs they were, as most kings always have and will. Needless to say, there was an army behind each of them. Entourages that well outnumbered the guarding forces, one man for each of the remaining three crime organizations still standing in the city. The officers faith were commendable, they stood firm at their points of entry, and asked for identification. Each Father of the city pulls out their symbol, and is allowed entry, followed by their amassed cache of weapons and wielders. In the center of the field at the mid-line sits a long thick wooden conference table with four chairs, one on each side. The gangs of men all circle it, each clearly distinct from one another, as their three heads take a seat

The Gaetano gang: Headed by Johnny Gaetano, great grandson and legacy to the mob family founder. This greasy crew dressed in literal Teflon suits; bulletproofed Versace. Each suit, no matter how off color or mismatched, always wore the honorary silk purple ties.

The Greed gang, a group known for scouting the mentally deranged at a young age. They wore their colors proudly with Black top hats with a green rim. Their leader, Jimmie Mines.

The final still standing the quick-draw gang: Hotheads known for their short tempers and moods that shift with the hands on a clock. Their symbol is wearing an old west styled holster with a weapon of choice. Their originator; was a Texan in the 1770, known the name of Sam Sharp, started as a simple mercenary and bounty hunter until he lost his wife in a raid on his home by past bounties collected. Years later his history was resurrected by his grandson Stan Sharp.

These men and the grandparents and their parents have had a grip on this city that for the longest time was unshakable, until the combined efforts of a mystery benefactor and a crazed assassin led to the fall and absorption of the two strongest and weakest families in the city. The Fathers wait nervously for the Jersey Devil to show his face.

The sudden sound of a screeching speaker is obnoxious as it bounces of the stadium walls and bleachers. A deep voice speaks over the irritating sound "Gentlemen!" All heads immediately turn to the announcer’s booth, the outline of a wide shouldered individual in the shadows, “Why did you call us here 'Grimm Devil’?” Johnny asks turning in the low back burgundy leather swivel chair. "\Look we're ready to make a deal, so just tell us the offer like a businessmen." A dark laugh escaped and rides on slowly in the empty stands, "I don't want your money, and this is about a religious group on The Channel, Their calling it Cardinal Island now. They've been killing church going old ladies, Nuns, preachers, even the choir boys. Ain't much better for the other deities neither feel me? Hahaha...uhhh. Their killing religion on the Channel " A crack of red lightning shoots through the roof as he ejects and reenters at the end zone and begins walking forward, the gangs all aiming at him but not being ordered to fire, "So what’s that gotta do widdus? ehh? What, cuz goody's business, your business is failing we're suppose ta show sympathy? Ged-da-fug-outta-heya..." Johnny Gaetano stated smoking a cigar and ashing on the bare table.

The King of Downtown is expressionless as he raises a hand and squeezes gently, "Chubs had to get a pace maker huh? Damn, I feel so sorry for you...see I can show sympathy to you!" Stan Sharp stands extraordinarily fast pulling his weapon and firing three shots at his crimson masked head. He holds the pacemaker in one hand and the bullets of the peacemaker in another, spinning slowly, "I could kill every man in this room with their own damn gun. calm down." He drops the bullets and releases Gaetano, taking a seat at the head of the table. As he does an army of gangsters in smoke masks with red lenses emerge from the team locker rooms, swarming the entire circle of Thugs, outnumbering them all two to one. None of them made a sound. "Enough showin' off my point is made. You go to Cardinal island and handle her. It's a small Asian woman, how big of a bunch of p#%$ies are you? “As he finishes asking with a look of condescension on his face, the words sounding like a father talking to his children, the so called loyal masses of the gangs holding rifles and automatics look around at each other nodding and pointing at their leaders with looks of disgust and disrespect. "Who said we was scared? This ain't gonna be a problem. We'll just send some-" His large brown fist slams the table, "I said you! all three of you, go to the island, bring as many men as you want, but take care of her, before she inevitably takes care of you...feel me?! A deal can be made...make it."

None among them said it aloud but it was clear that the power in the city had shifted in one meeting from three gangland juggernauts, to one unknown insane assassin. "The three look at each other, hiding the obvious nervousness on their faces, "We accept...your proposal.” They had grown soft; it seems as though their long victory was what caused their inevitable defeat. (;)

"What you got knee problems?! Make moves and kick rocks!" The three rise sharply already plotting how to end Flucks when the time was right, but for now they tried to keep their nerve and save face in front of the men, leaving the stadium and hopping in separate vehicles, heading for Goody Tower on Cardinal Island.

Conflict...

Since humanity first learned to use sticks, rocks and fists as weapons, conflict has been the focal point of their feeble existence...

It has shaped nations, destroyed lives and brought about technological innovations...

The violence, the hatred, the bloodshed, the... strife... this is my life blood, the more of it their is the more powerful I become...

In a sense, to destroy me you would have to first empower me, trapped within this... peculiar mortal form I am no more than a parasite... for now...

The eruption of violence in 'Grimm City' by a group I recently became affiliated with has allowed me control of this being, this assassin... for the time being...

The 'Cult of Cardinals' as they call themselves are but a means to an end, to strengthen me so that I may be free of this man's control... I am Strife... The Apocalypse is near...

Grimm City

Looking out across the city from his perch a top a tall building on Cardinal Island, the Horseman of Strife grinned, the fires from the rioting and the gang violence, along with the cardinals uprising had created a panic in the city, below on the streets civilians fled from the mass of cultists as what few 'clean' police officers there were attempted to hold them back, they were failing miserably.... Behind him two SWAT officers, marksmen, who moments ago had been the best of friends, attempted to tear each other limb from limb, Strife manipulating the anger within them to the point of having them turn on one another.

"Pathetic creatures..."

Glancing back at the two, with a snap of his fingers they stopped, coming to their senses, drawing their side arms and aiming them at the masked figure before them.

"Hands in the air creep!" one of them called to no avail. As a booted foot took a single step forward, followed immediately by a hail of gunfire from the pair.

"Yes... That's good..."

His voice a low his followed by sinister chuckling, the masked figure lunging forward, impaling one man with a wicked looking blade, crimson red blood trickling down the pitch black metal. His partner frozen in fear a second to long as a powerful booted foot slammed into his chest, sending the man flying over the side of the building, if the fall hadn't killed him then being trampled by the mob below would surely finish the job.

"Now where was I..." The impaled officer sliding off his blade, hitting the concrete rooftop with a thud. "Ah yes... The Cardinal"

What a laughable thought, this little cult she'd established did have it's uses however. He could feel it, almost as if the hatred of those below was coursing through his veins, every gunshot, stabbing or beating was like a shot of adrenaline to him.

"It's been far to long since I shed a little blood myself... let's rectify that shall we?"

Feeling the host attempting to regain control.

"Not yet Michael, did no one teach you how to treat a guest?"

A sinister laugh reverberating from behind his mask as he dove down to street level, landing with enough force to create a small crater in the asphalt, holding a heavily muscled arm out one of his spectral handguns appearing from thin air as bullets and shot from the men and women manning a nearby barricade bounced off and occasionally stuck into his skin.

"My turn..."

Bring back the hammer with his thumb he unleashed a series of non-lethal shots, enough to wound the officers beyond the point of fighting back.

Looking back to a group of Cultists gathering behind him he nods "Kill them... slowly" Their eyes glowing a bright red as their minds became consumed with thoughts of carnage, rushing the now undefended barricade like animals as he walked calmly in the opposite direction, the dying screams of the officers filling the air as the Essence of Conflict made his way deeper into the metropolis turned war zone as the followers of the Black Cardinal pushed onward towards midtown.

Reviewing his numerous intricate plans for the acquisition of the Portuguese nation, cunning Impero was certain that his recently established alliance with the lovely sorceress, Charmix, would benefit his plans quite well, particularly those involving his interest in Portugal. The masked enigma sat on his jewel-encrusted stone throne, systematically reviewing every single mental note regarding his recent political objectives. "My sleeper agents, they've devastated the capital of Lisbon, the nation is now weak. They look at their beloved president for a solution that he cannot produce. And after the final phase of my plan.. the populace will look for a new leader to lift the country from its dark age". Suddenly, a respectful knock emerged from behind his throne room's entrance. Slowly but steadily, the large doors opened, and the deadly beauty Aisha Omar, emerged, Impero's loyal Witch-Hunter lieutenant. "Ah, Aisha, what a lovely surprise. I'm certain you've come with something important to share", The Genius greeted, hoping that his valued subordinate had come with invaluable news.

Standing four meters from the charming puppeteer that she both admired and loved, Aisha nodded, a cheeky smirk on display, "Of course my Grand-Master. I have some information about Grimm City that may interest you", the ebony-haired enchantress paused, her words acting as an instrument of suspense. Calmly placing her hand on her hip, she continued, "The Cult of Cardinals have caused a bit of a stir in the metropolis, gang violence and riots are rampant. Unfortunately, this is all I've learned for now, I don't know the exact cause behind these events. But I'm sure the Cardinals' involvement interests you", Aisha revealed, curiously awaiting her calculating superior's response. Silent, cryptic Impero calmly rose from his throne, and walked towards his loyal lieutenant, halting as he stood mere inches away from her. Gently holding her hand, enigmatic Impero made his way behind her, wrapping his other around his lieutenant's waist, "You have done well, Aisha", Impero congratulated, his alluring yet powerful voice creeping into Aisha's ears. Smirking contently as she placed her free hand on her superior's intimidating mask, Aisha replied, "Of course, what other result other than success would I achieve?", she joked confidently before adopting a more serious demeanor, sliding her warm hand off his mask. "Your engagement to this Clara Mass, what is it all about?", her question lured a series of nonchalant chuckles from the masked mystery. "That is all part of a plan my dear", Impero assured, but of course, with him nothing is ever certain. "Good", Aisha smiled, a satisfied expression looming over her face.

"What are you going to do about whatever's happening in Grimm City?", Aisha asked, mysterious Impero calmly pacing around the throne room, his hands confidently folded behind his back. "Do you want me to send some Witch-Hunter Reapers to the city? They can gather whatever information you need", Aisha suggested. "Yes, send them. Other than you and myself, they are the only ones I trust are capable enough for this kind of task", cunning Impero agreed, "Now come with me. There is something I need you to do", he stated, before leaving his throne room, Aisha following close behind. Silently making his way into a prison chamber, nefarious Impero halted several feet before a helpless witch, restrained by adamantium chains containing a magic-negating agent. With his hands folded behind him, the eerie enigma addressed his captured victim, "You don't look nearly as captivating as you did in your first three days here", he taunted, the witch defiantly scoffing at his statement, "You'll never get away with this. You're a merciless villain! You-", however, the witch's words were quickly interrupted by an amused chuckle from masked Impero. "Please. I know I do bad things, I know I'm bad, you know I'm bad. The question is.. what are you going to do to stop me?", Impero responded arrogantly. Speechless, the witch was soon subjected to torturous experiments by Aisha who was instructed by her superior to do so in order to learn more about the effects of magic in the human body.

Meanwhile, a shadowy force of ten Witch-Hunter Reapers had arrived in Grimm City through unknown means, their eerie stealth suits and intimidating masks serving as an advantage in their use of fear tactics. Artistically perched atop a building's rooftop, the Reapers observed the violent riots that run a muck across the city. Their single objective of uncovering the Cardinals' business in the city all that clouded their minds. Instantly, the hive-minded group of deadly assassins silently and efficiently maneuvered across the rooftops, quickly spotting a lone target on atop a building's roof, intently observing the city's events while dressed in a gray Armani suit. This man, he seemed well-informed, perhaps a crime-lord. Without warning, they leaped from rooftop to rooftop, quickly dashing over to their victim, one of the Reapers instantly striking the man from behind on the side of his head. Within seconds, temporary blindness plagued the man, the Reapers having struck an exotic vital point in the man's head. Quickly restraining the man by paralyzing his body save for his head, the Reapers wasted no time in asking their questions, "You are not taking part in the riots with everyone else. Why? Do you know the cause behind them?", the Reapers asked in unison, their deep demonic computerized voices haunting the now fearful man's ears.

(Continued from the Aftermath)

“So the b!tch kills half the world, and dumbasses give her a religion?” there was some resentment in his voice; though the situation bothered him; he didn’t want to alert Jeeves to his growing frustrations with the Cardinals. {They’re striking all over as if…it’s a staged assault; honestly there’s nothing we can do about it} Jeeves added, stabilizing the suit above the Los Angeles. The Cardinals assault on the city was already a problem; there was no way he could go coastal and get to New Jersey in a reasonable amount of time.

“You two don’t worry, the ladies are on it” Paige interrupted booting up her “Editman”. {You mean hoes?} Jeeves said, in a tone that he figured only Gabe would pick up. “Who’s a hoe?” Gabe asked loudly alerting Paige to the conversation. {F@cking moron…} the A.I sighed; but quickly engaged the enemy signing out.

Paige stepped on the telepod with her arms extended; her eye’s reflected the image of Sean’s neck being snapped at the hands of the Ninjan Queen. With each blink, her face grew more and more crimson; that is until her face plate smashed against her nose. {I suppose you pay attention…} Jeeves said, almost chuckling.

“I really need to add some space to for my boobs in the next model” Shrimping a bit to the right she created a bit of space for her breast. {I thought this WAS the flat chest version of the Editman} Jeeves snapped back quickly.

Opening the fin stabilized panels on her arms; while turning on her rocket thrusters 4%. {Paige…I don’t...} before Jeeves could finish the sentence, Paige shot up hitting her head on the thick walls of the company building. “WHAT THE F!!CK!” she screamed, taking note that her shields were down by 5%. {I tried to tell you that the retractable roof mechanism that we purchased from Starks Industries hasn’t been installed}.

“Why the hell not?!” She said, walking down the steps towards the main entrance. {I don’t know, could be because you fired the Julio and Hunico; I mean they were the only two who actually worked}. Her A.I responded swiftly. {If you stop hiring crack heads, you’d be straight} he added again. “What can I say…It’s affirmative action” she said, walking past her senior most employees.

“Hey Earl” he was a staple at Apex Industries since its founding; he had the respect of most of his co-workers despite the fact that he had Turrets. “F@CKMEINTHEASS PAIGE!” he screamed back violently.

“No, no there will be none of that” she said; disturbed a bit by the outburst. Finally exiting the building; she powered her rockets and flew north. {Uh…Grimm City is South…} F@ck Jeeves, you couldn’t have been the best A.I Wal-Mart had to offer”.

{I’m sure Starks Industries and RossCorp bought their high tech A.I systems from Wal-Mart too} The charismatic asshole responded. “That was Sean’s idea, you know how cheap he is”, pulling up a map of Grimm City; Paige logged the coordinates into her dagger and rocketed off towards Grimm City. “I want the most recent news feed coming from Grimm City”.

{What the hell is up, with people thinking just anyone can be Editman} Jeeves asked, while scouring through Grimm City news files. {I bet Cassidy-Lockhart Starks has a pretty good set-up in her suit} Jeeves said, again a bit envious.

“Can you please hop off her clitoris?” Paige snapped, a bit agitated. Apex Industries was probably the lesser known company in the world; but they produced the world’s BEST (That’s right bitches, I said it) thermal energy products.

“I’m picking up some distress heading into mid-town…prepare for a fire fight” She said; opening the fin stabilized flaps on the arms. She hovered through the city, the hum from her rockets attracted attention both near and far.

{You now would probably be a bad time to tell you that…the Repulsar’s are down}, “F#ck Jeeves…” she sighed, manually starting them.

Power Core at 1.2%

{I haven’t updated this system since the last time Sean, used it to play DC universe online it’s going to take some time} Jeeves warned. “This day just keeps getting better and better”

“I’m picking up a figure with a high thermal level…” She reported in with Jeeves; before landing in front of the figure. Panic swept over the streets of Grimm City; from the sidewalks she could hear people screaming. “Look it’s Editman!”

{Ha, funny; no one knew who or What Editman was until he got his neck snapped}, {Huh…whaa…to soon?} “Too Soon Jeeves”

Power Core at 1.4%

“Oh for f@cks sake” she screamed in irritation; activating her small arm capability; she fired off a screen grenade attempting to limit his vision; through the veil of smoke; she’d come flying through attempting to land a metallic punch towards the Chaos King’s stomach.

"What the--"

"Joan...Joan are you alright?" Agent Grant interrupted the assassin's train of thought as she gazed onto the queen, the queen of ninjans and now the queen of the damned. She placed her index finger to her ear piece and responded to the frantic please.

In a low voice she murmured, "Grant I am fine...keep your panties on. I just witnessed the rebirth of Ziccarra, Sha, Ninjaneta Queen, whatever she goes by now." Joan paused as she watched the newly born again woman rise from the basin of blood and sacrificial ingredients that had been gathered for the ceremony. She paused once more as she used her heightened sense of hearing to pick up on Aliistar's words. "Grant, this has gotten all kinds of crazy, they are calling her the Black Cardinal now...and this seems very cult-like."

Just as the Black Cardinal formerly known as Sha touched the ground the whole island shoot. Her com link buzzed and she could catch the remnants of Grant's voice. "Jo---own, ge, Joan get out!" She pressed the unlock button on her com link and threw it a few feet in front of her. The ear piece let out a few sparks before the light that signaled it was on died.

"Grant, I don't need you...in fact whatever interference that was I am glad it got through..."She murmured as she readjusted her positioning to watch from a better angle. She was high above the stone room in the rafters, hidden by a cloak of shadows. The flames from the torches below played with this though, as it played tug-o-war with the shadows about. "So Black Cardinal...lets see what this means exactly. What are you hiding behind those blonde locks?"

'My Queen, Ziccarra has gotten out of hand, she's leading an all out assault on Earth. You need to stop her!'

This was the last transmission that Zeon heard from Emerald Cannary, one of her loyal members of the Cortega Force. Sadly she didn't receive the message up until two weeks ago. The fellow Liafador was never one for politics, in fact, she hated them. The beginning of the civil war on Ninjeta all those years ago, her family picked up and moved to the planet Xiox, where her family created the Cortega Force, a elite Ninjan Space Police force. Because her family was royalty, her parents where king and queen of the planet, leading it into prosperity, and allowing Zeon to do whatever she pleased with no one to bother her. But because of the recent death of both of the king and queen... this left Zeon to be forcefully crowned Queen of Xiox and because of her dear cousins recent actions, is now Queen of the entire Ninjan Race.

"How much longer till we get to Earth?" The impatient Ninjan asked, sitting slouched to the side in her elegantly layered pink and white clothing.

"Just about five minutes, we are passing the Earths moon now."

Slowly rising from her seat, the golden haired Ninjan Queen walked to a window, and there for the first time, she saw it. Earth. She had heard so many stories of this planet, the heroes that came from it, the evil that spawned from it, and now, her cousin was a part of it. "It's smaller than I thought." She mumbled, moving a strand of hair away from her bright blue eyes.

"My Queen, what are we to do once we reach Earth?" Here guard asked.

"Find my lovely cousin, bring her back to Xiox where she will face the Ninjan Justice system." She spun around on the heels of her feet, facing the guard. "and of course try to make peace with the people of Earth, last thing we need is their 'heroes' to come and blow up Xiox as well." Her eyes didn't look away from the window. "You know... I haven't seen Ziccarra since my family left Ninjeta, and even then... I don't even remember what she looks like. Maybe we'll go to that thing Earthlings call 'amusement park' together, they sound like fun, don't you think?"

"I don't think she'll come with us willingly." The female guard responded.

She sighed in frustration, she heard stories of her cousin, and they never had a happy ending to them. "Your right..." she walked over to where she was sitting, reaching down as she pulled a silver blade up, the Ninjeta sword, able to cut through any matter known on Ninjeta and Xiox. "I wonder if the blade is just as strong on Earth as it has been on Ninjeta and Xiox."

"The blade is as strong as its wheild, you should be fine Queen Zeon."

With a devilish smirk she chuckled to herself. "We'll find out soon enough."

"We are about to enter the Earths atmosphere, please take your seats." the pilot spoke up from the front of the ship.

Few minutes later, somewhere in Tibet.

"My Queen, are you sure Ziccarra is somewhere here?" Her royal guard asked, looking around at the vast mountain lands of Tibet. "I don't even see any humans here."

Zeon stepped off the ship, her foot planting on the ground for the first time on Earth. "Strange, I always thought Earth had a heavier gravity than Ninjeta." She spoke to herself as her eyes then looked up to the guard. "I'm sure, the Liafador family is... blessed with powers to be able to track down the life essence of a fellow Liafador. If she's been somewhere, I'll know." She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to focus. It wasn't a power she got to used often, but it was something that came natural to all of her family. "She hasn't been here for a while..." she opened her eyes, looking up towards the skies, it was strange... it was if... her life essence took a sudden sharp drop. But there was another... stronger, she laughed. "Ziccarra, you didn't." She placed her hands behind her as she walked back into the ship.

"Queen Zeon?" The royal guard followed.

"She's not here, but there is another."

The guard had a confused look on her face.

"Ziccarra had sex with an Earthling and there is now another Laiafdor running around. I can track them down and I'm about 90% sure wherever they are, Ziccarra will be there." She walked up to the small map room where a holographic picture of the Earth flaoted just about eye level with her. "Let's see now..." closing her eyes again she rose her right hand, her index finger moving towards the picture before finally pointing at a specific spot. Opening her eyes she grinned. "We are going to 'The United States' to some small area called..." she paused for a moment, laughing, the names they give their land, it was ridiculous. "Grimm City." She walked back to her seat and sat down. "Lets go! I'm anxious to see the newest addition to the family line."

Skitter. Skitter skitter, skrrtch.

The sound of fingers tapping on glass. Idly.

Skrrrtch. Skitter skitter.

The tapping grew quicker. Then stopped. An arm raised, holding up a single finger sideways. A stand of silken material began to descend from the ceiling. On the end of it, a small, black creature. It had eight legs, and a narrow, circular abdomen that was emblazoned with a red hourglass shape. It landed gracefully on the tip of his finger. It's fangs made a singular clicking sound. A male voice, one with a suave tone and a slight French accent, spoke. "Hello to you too, Venin." The creature took this as an invitation to come closer. It scuttled down the hand, traversing across the fabric of the suit that covered the man. It stopped short of his ear, and began clicking in rapid succession.

Skrrrrrtch.

That sound. It drowned out the arachnid's speech for a moment, so the man politely shushed it. "One moment, mon enfant." He listened. It was a scratching noise. One that howled like a screech in his ear. It had not stopped for days now. Closing his eyes, he exhaled, letting himself relax. As his mind unfocused, emptying itself, the noise began to become clearer. It was a male voice. It sounded frail, but powerful. Terrifying, but safe. Such contradicting feelings unnerved the French thief.

Ch..hhiiiilllddd..

"What is it? No, better yet, who are you, and why are you in my head?" He wanted answers. The Frenchman did not take kindly to invaders in his skull.

Whyyy.. I am you. As youuuuu.. are meee.

"Cryptic. Joie. What do you want?"

There.. is an eeevil commiiiinggg. Youuu.. must silenceee it.

"What makes this different? There is many evils in this world, many to come. I've never heard you say a word before."

Thiissss oooneee.. is different. Sheeee cannot be allowed too retuurrrnnn. If sheeee doesss, thiss world could be dooomeedd.

"Why should I care? As long as the evil leaves me to my devices, why would I intervene? It's not as if you cou- AGH!" There was a burning pain in his stomach, followed by a feeling that could only be described as his side being torn apart. It stopped after a few seconds.

You wiiiilll do thissss.

"Va te faire foutre!" His accent had come out in full. There was another shot of pain through his other side. "Amende, amende! Assez!" He sat there for several moments, his eyes shut. "Merde.. where is it?"

Griiiimmm Citttyy. Go, noooww.

The voice faded into silence. In the confusion, the widow had retreated to the wall. It was frightened, but not by the pain of its master. "Venez.. venez." He spoke to the spider reassuringly, and it leaped onto his out-stretched finger. "Do me a favor, mon enfant. Pass a message through the web. Ensure that it reaches Grimm City, and have them report to me as soon as possible. I would like to know that city inside and out by the time I arrive there. Will you do this for me?" There was a clicking sound, one that conveyed that it would be more than happy to do this. "Bonne. Run along then." Another happy click, and it skittered off.

Turning, the brown-haired man stared out the window of his penthouse. Slowly, he exhaled, then turned and walked to gather his necessities. It would appear that a trip to Grimm City was in order.

Perfection Personified

She danced like a wet dream, vicious and inane. Her tooth-crammed smile went everywhere and nowhere. The face, the body, the movement, all quite secure in their performance, their art, their pornography - Money, Martin Amis

Personal Prologue: Skin so soft. A persona so flawless has purposely stepped into a city where turmoil grows more and more each decade. It is constantly on the verge of being forcefully opened like a virgin's garden. Therefore birthing a new breed of evil. An evil so repulsive it has mad those who've fathered it wish it had never been incubated. Hilarious is it not? Where evil itself can make like-minded curators wishing for suicide. Welcome to Grimm City. Where insanity resides.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the following bout is scheduled for knockout."

She's studied his movements. Calculated the results of his fast paced uprising. Never did she ever expect the answers she's been given. Grimm has been allowed to breath and fondle those unrelated to its fiendish schemes. A long time ago she'd stay away from its voice. A voice so brooding asking for her mind to embrace the hatred of society. However, times have changed for her once fractured mind. She's ready to roughly ride along chaos but Cassius's betrothed world belongs to another. Grimm calls her name like a former lover asking for one last tenure. Begging for her healing touch. And she'll do it all but first things first. Clarice needs an opening.

"She's the phenomena worth paying for. Please welcome, Clara Mass!"

• Follow on twitter @miss clara

Real Name: Clarice Michelle Zeraz

Hair Color: Varies

Eye Color: Violet

Weight: 140 lbs

Height: 5'9"

Place of Birth: Hoboken, New Jersey 

Until she can get proper footing she'll play the field; seeking a firm hand worth caressing. Her attire stitched with traditional kimono fabric, crimson haired poised upward by twin ebony sticks, and a physique so awe inspiring. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! Like a jealous ex-boyfriend does happiness coming to a halting finale. Attention is split away from combat as Midtown's notorious Gaetano Mobsters light the joint upon like the fourth of July. Turns out Cayenne's Casino hadn't payed their deep debt to the resident crime lord. Humorous seeing as how the redheaded mystery is on the payroll but now it seems her cover may be blown.

"Lady. Who the hell are you?"

Barbaric machinery aimed at an unblemished face. Rather insulting for a woman of her prestigious stature. A main shareholder of Zeraz Industries, executive administrator for Mount Olympus, and well-known murderess of Mikepool and Mister Mercury, not to mention future wife of impervious Impero. Her name is in the mouths of so many jealous cows, people would presume she's a venereal disease. Maybe even an epidemic for those with a third grade curriculum. Oh how these foolish children set themselves up for an abrupt demise. She might as well be a grave digger for insubordinate imps everywhere.

"Yo Vinny, I'm telling its that meta broad from Hoboken. She's that hussy from People Magazine. Come on she's--"

Although her opponent lay unconscious from a simple Cattle Mutilation maneuver; Clara Mass acts as if she's in a pageant by waving to her unwelcome guests. For seven weeks she's built a following among wrestling fanatics. Catering to the sexual innuendos of men and women alike. Sending humans from across the waters onto hospital beds every Monday night at exactly eleven thirty-one. Now here are some supposed mobsters taking away her precious time as if she's their main squeeze.

"Call me daddy....", she said, cockily cutting him off mid sentence. She looks to the other boy who's so obviously new to the games of death dealing. He's nervous at first but its okay. Vinny isn't use to the sight of beautiful women giving him one on one attention. Clarice can feel his mind cry out for an escape from a life style so corrupted but his last name will forever define his future endeavors. She kind of feels bad for this pathetic sack of meat.

"Why should I?", says the puzzled teeny bopper.

"Or you'll die like the rest.....", she blows a kiss to the spunky looking Italian. Grimm City moans in a euphoric sense as death enters a revolving, regular, even grotesquely rotting doors. Horrors from elsewhere courageously step onto the toes of the Gaetano scene. Killing those unprotected by Clarice's telekinetic walls. Maybe she should of prevented bloodshed but she aint no heroine anymore.

"Daddy! Your my daddy!", he hollers like the typical one minute man. However, she'll let this one slide as he is obviously inexperienced. She taps his groin and he instantly completes assisted masturbation. Crumbling to his knees the redheaded bombshell can't help but giggle. As her walls come falling down, she plants a kiss on his sweaty little forehead. Together they disappear. Away from the spontaneous wreckage does she stand with her little boy toy in tow.

"Vinny....tell me what you know of South Cardinal Island and its recent activity." Her red bottom heel kicks his clavicle, setting the poor boy onto his back. As weak as he is the frail thing might as well be a bottom. No way in hell could he command a woman in the bedroom.

"You saved my life. I'll give you that but why---", he can't even finish speaking before her infinite gaze hypnotizes continuously active hormones. Clarice grasps his cheaply knitted collar and pulled his light weight upward. Entering his surprising intellectual conscience; Clarice's signature devilish smirk returns. For some time she believed life was no longer fascinating when in fact all she needed was the right man. Hehe indeed. "My name is Clara Mass and I can give you a way out of Grimm City." She said, twirling her curly crimson hair.

He who is not everyday conquering some fear has not learned the secret of life ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

The lyrca clad queen and her son Alistair, both sat on the edge of the Lazarus Pit; with ceremonial mask on; these mask protected the two from all types of fumes and diseases even the radiation given off by the Lazarus pit.

“Gather around sons and daughters of the Cardinal, I have a story to tell”. She did not reveal her diamond blue eye’s just yet; the purpose was to soak in all the attention on her words. “Long ago, back before any other religion was too prevalent; there was a Great Schism between the catholic church.” She finally opened her eyes; the undivided attention of the assassins yearned for more. “The Roman Catholic Church was governed by the College of Cardinals; however the Eastern Orthodox Church founded a group that would later be known as the “Cult of Cardinals”.

“The Cult of Cardinals, were led by a woman; what made her so special is she had no name; she had no nationality. Her drive for a better world, earned her the unknown honor as the first female Cardinal.” While Sha gave her sermon the sounds of increasing violence grew on the outside.

“The Black Cardinal became the unifying figure within the Orthodox Church; using young and athletic Cardinals to purge the byzantine empire of filth and criminals, she became more powerful than the pope himself.” She paused again, her attention shifted up towards the rafters; she squinted her eye’s activating her famed Ninjan Keen eyesight hoping to catch a glimpse of someone hiding within the shadows.

Upon her inspection she saw no one; if there was someone crazy enough to be listening in on her; she’d find them soon enough.

“Once the Roman Church found out about a female Cardinal; they arranged for her assassination, one night while the she was taking a shower she was brutally murdered at the hands of the western church. “The direct aftermath of her death was a plague, one known as the Black Death. Because of this she was nicknamed the Black Cardinal”.

Removing her weapon and slowly walking the innards of the circle she explained what all this meant. “The Lopez family, are decedents of this Black Cardinal; and they formed the very first Cardinal Church known as the Red Cardinals; they hoped to one day purge this land of the filth and corruption that made the “Old world” so tedious.”

“In my death I learned something, something that could be achieved only in death. While my teachings indeed motivate this congregation to purge on my behalf; I used you all to spread something so horrendous this city…or the world isn’t prepared for. “The Black Cardinal is not a title at all…it’s a virus”

A cold smile crept upon the face of the Viper Queen; pushing Y intercept’s Black Rose blade forward the shards ripped into every one of the Cardinals present. There screams did nothing but paste a deviant smile on the face of their master. “I don’t need this getting to the other Cardinals…” Sha said, twirling one more shard in her hands. “The Cardinal Admins already knew this was going to happen; hopefully they’ve been wearing there mask around these grunts” Alistair said; smirking. “You are so much like you’re father” she said, running her hands across his jet black hair.

“and that I cannot have” she pushed her hands against her chest channeling Y intercept’s kinetic energy; igniting it; she fired a hole right through her son. “If you turned on Y intercept, surely you’d turn on me” she said, watching as his intestines slowly rolled down the wall.

“Everyone who comes into contact with the Cardinal Grunts…we’ll be infected with the Black Cardinal, just when they think they have all the answers….I change the questions” she exiting the cathedral.

Gangs were making a heavy move on South Cardinal Island; the Cardinal admins were under strict orders to take them out; she on the other hand wanted to meet the man responsible for this…Grimm City.

Oh sh!t... Joan thought to herself. Sha had just killed her own son. Literally not even ten minutes after getting her new body she killed her own flesh and blood (well I suppose not so much anymore, but still). Joan pondered what move to do next, there was no way she could hope to get out of here alive. With that woman...actually that monster being worshiped like a goddess the BC's minions would tear Joan up before Sha would even back an eye lash. It was risky to stay where she was though, and she had to get back to @Sicarius_ though and report her findings. Report that Grimm island was being taken over by a dark force. The likes of which she wasn't even sure if @Surkit the famed hero could handle. She had heard rumors he was gathering heroes...but still what could stop her? She was a freaking institution and law according to her followers. Joan studied all possible means of exit, the entrance (hell nah), the windows above the pit of fire and death (umm not much better), if she waited any longer she was just a sitting duck. Think Joan, think. Joan caught something above her head, way above all the rafters that layered the ceiling. Criss crossing as if forming a wooden web for Joan to climb. Alright worth a shot. Her ticket took form in a small jagged shape of light.

Joan adjusted her body just right so she could make the series of rafters in one go. She knew she only had one shot, if she slipped, made any sound, or did anything wrong Sha would have her people on her like white on rice. Joan saluted a dew of sweat away from her forehead as she crouched down. Her legs ready to spring up...she made one glance down at Sha and her story time. Joan realized something terrifying, the story had stopped, the silence stopped Joan's heart for a few seconds as she waited for something to happen. The Black Cardinal's (aka Sha's) followers were tearing various parts of her son off limb, by limb. Joan had killed plenty in her time but this was much more, more gruesome and barbaric for Joan's tastes. She grimaced as she faced the facts that this was true evil. One she wished to never be appropriately acquainted with...or know for that matter. if Lucifier himself was met with this visage he would look at it with disdain. Is this...is this what it is to know evil? Joan's eyes widened. The Black Cardinal spoke the words that Joan hoped, prayed even wouldn't be her death sentence. "My darlings...looks like...we have company." The Black Cardinal gave a "rock eye brow raise" as she gestured toward the rafters. "Kill her..."

The hunt was on, Joan leaped from chunk of platform to the next. The Black Cardinal's faithful servants had started to setup long ladders against the rafters to catch her. She was met on her next rafter by three cardinals. She panicked for a brief second as she decided whether to run or fight. She let her flight mode kick in and lunged to a rafter inches above their heads. She had reached the top, "nowhere to go now...you're good as---" Joan punched through the shimmer of moonlight that had caught her eye before. She somersaulted onto the roof and rolled off onto the ground. The cardinals would be close behind. She rubbed her side, may have broken her wrist, definitely broke a few ribs. "Gotta...get to...Sicarius." She fumbled away from the building as she attempted to escape the grasp of the Black Cardinal. She held her eyes to the ground as her vision had started to blur. Then, the silhouette of a person appeared in front of her...followed by darkness. Savior of her life or reaper, it was out of Joan's hands now...

Two Hours Ago: Kyoto, Japan

Cassidy was roused from a peaceful sleep by the shrill alarm of her PDA going off with the emergency signal. Rousing herself from a peaceful sleep, she took care not to disturb Kaz from his rest as she pulled on a black silk robe over her casual nightwear of panties and a loose t-shirt. Running her fingers through her hair, she grabbed the device and pulled down the screen. It was a Code 1 SEER alert. One of the targets that she'd been tracking had just appeared.

Shutting the bedroom door softly behind her, she quickly strode down to the Aerie and pulled up her file on Florian LeBeau. Their last encounter struck fresh in her memory. "Aria, pull up all related files, I want everything we've obtained on the Cardinals."

>Cassidy, there's an arising situation that you should be aware of. Satellite imagery shows big moves being made in Grimm City as well as an odd energy signature. There are emergency reports being broadcast from what is now known as Cardinal Island. They were abruptly cut off by disruption to the electromagnetic frequency.<

Her brow furrowed as she stripped off her clothes and walked over to the equipment closet in the corner of the room. Pouring herself into the kevlar alloy body suit and pulling the hooded cloak on over it, she grabbed her weapons and geared up. "I want all surfacing information fed to me via the implant. Let Kaz know I'll be gone for a bit. Kastiel has the kids off in that godforsaken cabin, I want a message sent to him that it may be a while."

Pulling the hood of the cloak up over her head the Redheaded Ravager smiled a mirthless smile. "It's time to hunt."

Present Time: Grimm City, United States

The night air was cool, the wind blowing around Cassidy as she stood atop the roof of one of the buildings towards the fringes of Midtown, near one of the bridges that spanned the bay to Cardinal Island. Dressed in a tight black suit with a filigreed fitted corset, her cloak billowed out around her, her hair escaping the edge of her hood.

A shot of lighting cracked through the sky as the clouds opened up and rain began pouring down onto the city in chaos. There was an ominous forboding that covered the city and it was more oppressive than the rain and slight humidity could ever be. Grimm City was living up to it's name. Death hung in the air, a tension so thick that you could cut it with a butter knife. It was a feeling that the woman who had recently become known as Mercy felt at home with.

Stepping to the edge of the roof of the five story building, she held her arms out to either side of her and stepped off the edge. Free-falling through the dusky night sky, the rain pouring around her, she tucked and rolled, using her telekinesis to cushion the impact. Landing on bent knee, she quickly righted herself, staying momentarily in the midst of the shadows cast off the building by the setting sun.

Grabbing a gun and a kukri from the myriad of weaponry she had stashed on her person, Cass watched with narrowed eyes as five gang members approached her. With a single look it was apparent to their senses that she was not your run of the mill denizen of Grimm City.

"Boys, make it quick. We've got bigger and better...and hotter things ta do."

They simultaneously flowed into a formation and such began the macabre ballet that Cassidy was so well trained in. Without a single word spoken or a heartbeat accelerated, she launched into an effortless flow of lethal movement. Dodging beneath a bullet and aiming a well-placed back-kick into a jaw, she took down one. A second came up behind her and managed to grab her in a chokehold before she shoved him back against the brick building and jammed an elbow into his rib cage. Taking hold of his fingers ,she leveraged his arm away from her throat, breaking the joints in the process.

Using the leverage of his fingers, Cass flipped him over her shoulder and left him broken on the ground. Moving forward, she kicked out with a booted foot, triggering the stilleto blade. The assailant she was aiming for had reinforced gloves and caught it between his finger, flipping her onto the ground in one fell swoop. Her head cracked against the pavement as two of the gangsters descended upon her and one kicked her swiftly in the ribs. However, the corset wasn't just for show, it was reinforced as well. Mumbling to himself about his toe, he walked away for a moment as Cass played dead. Sometimes a tactical retreat was more useful than a full on assault.

Without any warning she brought her knees up to her chest and performed a no-handed kip up, taking everybody by surprise. Within moments she had shot one in the face, slit the throat of a second with her kukri and butted the third in the face with a gun hard enough to leave him dazed. She wanted one alive. Elegantly stepping over the fallen bodies, she approached the last remaining gang member.

"Do you know who I am?"

"You're the stupid b!tch who's about to get killed."

"You're an idiot." Her voice quieted as she got up in his face, pushing him against the wall of the building, her arm barred lightly against his throat. "My name is Mercy. It is not because I have any. It's because by the time this is over, that's what you'll be begging for. How much I actually take on you depends entirely on how well you cooperate." She stroked the side of his face with the flat of her blade before bringing it down to his torso and cutting the edge of his shirt just for effect. "Who's masterminding this?"

"I'm not telling you a goddamn thing!" His last world trickled off into a shocked gasp as the edge of the kukri punctured his forearm, leaving the smallest of red lines trickling with blood straight across the center of his gang tat.

"Who's masterminding this? Where is Florian LeBeau?"

"I've never heard of that motherfcker."

She pulled back the hood, revealing herself in the light for the first time. It was inconsequential if he recognized her face or not. What he would recognize was the look of sheer ruthlessness in her eyes. Ripping his shirt down the center, she left if hanging on his arms and took the tip of the kukri and very lightly so as not to break the skin, traced the tip of it from the hollow in the center of his throat to the top of the waistband of his jeans. "Who's masterminding this? Where is Floiran LeBeau?" Still no change in her tone of voice.

He whimpered as he spoke this time, his foot shuffling against the ground uncomfortably as a sheen of nervous sweat beaded against his tanned Italian skin. "I DON'T KNOW."

"That was not the answer I was looking for." Crouching down just a bit, she traced the tip of the knife up the inseam of his fitted jeans, letting it rest at the crook of his thigh where his femoral artery was, and where she was within a centimeter's distance of the family jewels. Applying enough pressure to puncture the fabric of his jeans, she spoke once again. "This is your last chance..."

"HE NEVER GOES ONTO CARDINAL ISLAND! They say he walks the night, looking for those to bring to his own side. They say he follows only who it is convenient for him to follow. They say he's a renegade and not a Cardinal at all, but a bird of an entirely different sort. THAT'S ALL I KNOW, I SWEAR TO GOD!!!"

"Very good. You've done well tonight. For that you receive mercy." In one quick motion she snapped his neck, leaving him among the bodies of his fallen brethren. Bending down, she wiped the dried blood off of her blade using one of their t-shirts before quickly cutting through the chaos straight to the Midtown bridge. Pulling a small brick-shaped putty-like substance from the innocuous utility belt worn around her waist, she molded it onto the side of the bridge and set the plastique in place.

Stepping away, the Little Raven climbed the parapet on the side of the bridge and stood atop the spacious top surface of it. This gave her a birds eye view of not only Cardinal Island, but the bridge leading to it and a small chunk of Midtown as well. As her coup de gras, Cassidy used her telekinesis to fracture the pavement and side of a building in front of her, leaving the mark of the Order of Sancta Camisia in each one. It was the calling card she'd used in Ruin Kingdom and it was suitable for here, as well.

Cunning Impero's Reapers waited eternally and patiently for the trembling man's answer, however, it never was never heard. "Silence is our answer? Are you refusing to cooperate?", the eerie Reapers asked in unison, their inhuman voices instilling a sense of panic in the man's heart. "Who the hell are you people!?", he asked, his voice alarmed and shaken as he struggled to break free of their hold. "Just tell us what we want to know", they asked, calm but insistent on their demands. "Get the hell of me!", the man shouted, helplessly struggling against his captors. "You idiots have no idea who you're messing with!", the Armani clad man continued, growing defiant, his pride returning to him. Suddenly, in a mere heartbeat, a team of highly skilled gunmen descended from a hovering helicopter above the rooftop, "Release our superior", they demanded. "Hehe, let me go, otherwise my men here blow off your f*cken heads!", the gruff-voiced crime lord demanded as the silent gunmen instantly aimed their rifles at the unusually composed Reapers. "Kill them, kill them all!", the restrained crime-boss demanded, the sound of gunshots a testament to his demands being met.

Fortunately, this was nothing that an organized group such as the Reapers were not familiar with. Simultaneously dodging the incoming bullets, the Reapers prepared themselves for combat, however, open noticing the stances of the gunmen, decided that no more than a single Reaper was effective enough to incapacitate them all. While the unknown crime lord remained in the clutches of the rest of the Reapers, but a single Reaper stood forth, effortlessly halting the bullets in mid air via the supernatural means provided by her mastery over chi, a skill taught to the deadly group by nefarious Impero. With her arm extended, and her palm facing towards the levitating bullets, the single Reaper instantly redirected them towards the gunmen's direction, simultaneously killing them all with but a simple hand gesture. "What the hell are you people?!", the crime lord asked, his fear reignited as the Reapers cryptically answered his question with a verbal response in their characteristic unison fashion, "Nobody", they answered mysteriously, their voices carrying no trace or even a remnant of emotion, their response an unlikely indicator of Impero's policy against individuality in the Reapers' ranks. "Now then, answer our question", they demanded, one of the Reapers calmly standing before the frightened crime lord, his palm resting atop the gruff-voiced man's head. "Damn you all.. I don't know what you're talking about! I don't know who's behind all of this!", the man assured, however, the Reapers were far from convinced.

"Your voice and heart rate indicate that you are not being truthful", the Reapers pointed out, emotionless as their mask's eerie red goggles glowed intensely as one of the Reapers quickly injected an exotic powerful hallucinogenic serum into the crime boss' blood stream via a syringe-like projection that protruded from one of the Reapers' gauntlets. "What the f*ck was that!?!", the man asked, however, in a matter of seconds he began to experience vivid and realistic visions that exaggerated and amplified his deepest fears. As the once proud and defiant crime lord was turned into a cowering fool who continuously pleaded, "What did you do to me? Make it stop.. oh God make it stop..", he pleaded, a tear streaming down his rugged face as he desperately held on to the leg of a Reaper. "No.. no more", he begged. "Tell us what we want to know, and you will be free of your horrors and your sight will return", the Reapers responded, no pity or remorse evident in their words. "I don't know exactly.. i-it's about some resurrection crap that the Cardinals want, I don't know who they're trying to bring back or anything else, please.. it's too much", the man begged. "You were truthful this time. That is all the information that we require. You have outlived your usefulness", the Reapers stated, seemingly intent on killing the man. "What!? Y-you can't kill me!", he exclaimed. "We don't have to. You are blind and your mind will deteriorate after thirty minutes under the serum's influence. Perhaps you will find serenity with the mind of a vegetable", the Reapers concluded, maneuvering away from the rooftop, "You can't do this to meee! You bastards!".

As the Reapers silently waited atop an empty rooftop, they contacted their unquestionable leader, mysterious Impero. Accessing a ridiculously tightly secured method of technologically-enhanced communications, the Reapers' thoughts were directly transmitted into The Genius' unique mask. "The information we gathered tells us that the Cardinals are planning some sort of resurrection, but we were unable to identify their target", the mental message read. Patiently sitting on his marvelous throne, the cryptic enigma chose still to remain in his current location, nothing in Grimm City requiring of his presence. "Good. For now, that is all I need to know. I will arrive in Grimm City later, Impero has more pressing matters to intend to. Stay in the city and locate Clarice, assist her in whatever she is doing. You are bound to learn some important information around her, she is there. Find her", Impero ordered before directing his attention elsewhere. In the meantime, the Reapers embraced their new task and eventually located the manipulative redhead. Emerging from nearby shadows, they stood silently behind her before their deep computerized voices spoke in unison, "Clarice Zeraz. We have been sent by your fiancee to aid you in your objectives. He will be here soon".

It was marvelous...

He could feel it all around him, carnage, destruction, violence...

The people of Grimm City giving into their baser instincts in pitiful attempts to survive...

The Cultists, consumed by the need to destroy, maim and kill pressing onward across the bridge, killing nearly everyone in their path.

The Horseman's spectral handguns, Mercy and Wrath, sang a deadly tune as citizens, police officers and the newest arrivals, the National Guard fell like flies, the hailstorm of bullets they unleashed seemingly having no effect on the foreboding figure.

"I know this is not the best Humanity has to offer me..."

As the gunfire died down, the men behind the barricades looking up into the sky. Glancing upward over his shoulder he saw him, an armored being overlooking the carnage.

"Well I must say I'm a bit disappointed..."

As the armored being landed in front of him, a female, not that it truly mattered, as a Horseman of the Apocalypse he'd encountered dozens of women who were far superior in combat than any man.

"Gather round everyone... this will surely be a sight to behold..."

Of course he was lying, this would be over quickly, he could reduce the armor she wore to no more than a tin can if he wished, but where was the fun in that? They came by the dozens, unbeknownst to his opponent he was subtly manipulating the crowd. The moments ago terrified citizens, the guardsmen, the officers. Forming a wide ring around the two.

A projectile lancing out from the machine woman's arm, landing between them and creating a veil of smoke, a poor attempt to blind him. With a flick of his wrist a SWAT officer under his control who happened to be wielding one of those large metal shields they insisted on carrying was thrown in front of him. Reaching out with his elemental abilities to sense the suits presence he place the man precisely between himself and his attacker.

Then she came, flying through the air, arm out stretched, fist clenched, ready to strike his midsection. Or though she thought. Releasing his grip on the SWAT officer at the last possible second as the armored his slammed into his stomach, shattering the SAPI plate covering his chest. Sending the man flying backwards, the Horseman side stepping as the man flew past, hitting the concrete and bouncing several times, slamming into a building with a sickening thud.

Looking over at her he smirks behind his mask.

"My my... how cruel... especially for someone these poor people assumed was here to protect them..."

A low, sinister chuckle accompanying his words.

"What was it they called you? 'Editman'? I'll be sure to have them write it on your grave stone"

Bringing Mercy and Wrath to bare, sending a hail of armor piercing and EMP rounds towards his foe, as close as they were there was almost no hope of avoiding them. Following close behind the projectiles, firearms already holstered, Essence of Conflict lunged forward with supernatural speed, sending a powerful punch toward the woman's face. Followed by a series of kicks and strikes in an attempt to wear down both armor and wearer knowing not all of them would make contact with his opponent.

A long, wicked looking knife, the metal of unknown origin was drawn from a sheath behind his back, the flames from burning vehicles surrounding them reflected in the ebony colored blade as it swung through the air, attempting to cleave her in two at the waist...

Pulled to its capacity, the white cotton tank top stretched over and around the mountainous hate tempered amplified muscle belonging to the LeBeau Exile, Florian Kincaid. While he sat quietly on the bottom bunk called home in the Grimm City Davis Penitentiary longingly tracing his thumb over his most prized possession, a hackneyed photograph of his sister Angelique LeBeau. Outside his cell the reverberations of an anarchist style cult riot mirrored that of the carnage unfolding within Grimm City and more notably, the newly appointed South Cardinal Island. Inside the prison itself hell had been unleashed upon the weak as they were forced to battle one another to the death or surfer the wraith of unstoppable assassin.

Flaming sheets of tattered toilet paper littered the air like confetti as it cascaded down atop the chaotically formed circle of feverishly yelling inmates entranced with the gladiator themed display unfolding before them. Beaten, stabbed, and tortured, the last guard of the overthrown prison struggled to maintain her consciousness gently holding her guts in with her own hand staggering in a small circle around the psychopathic predator charged with procuring her passing. Her fate staring at her through glassed over eyes and sharpened metal. "I'mma bleed you slow bitch. I dont wants you dying before I's properly introduces myself." his disgusting broken southern drawl as almost as unbearable as the pain riffling through her body. Without warning the inmate charged, and in a flash, it was over. Both kneeling down face to face not a word spoken between them building the intensity of the atmosphere in cold silence. Its addictive anticipation summoning Florian from his cell positioning himself above the fray, hands clutching either side of his tank top straps while looking over the railing.

A slow disturbing gargle started to resonate before the inmate toppled over, his own weapon protruding from his neck. Silence, calm, not a breath whispered, nor taken, followed. Until the female guard grunted with strain fighting the urge to succumb to the fading light. "DESHI!" its foreign origin out of place inside the depths of the GCDP. But soon another yell rang out, "BASARA!" confusion and angst began to overcome the guard. Once again silence cloaked the situation, the inmates starting to turn and look up towards the motionless assassin. With a slight repositioning of his neck the chant began again, only this time, in unison. "DESHI DESHI! BASARA BASRA DESHI DESHI BASARA BASARA!" Amongst the thundering incantation one of the prisons smallest captives knelt down to the officer, "Ya gotta get up! Get up!" "Wha.....What does that....what does mean?" she questioned in reference to the gospel like chant. As she did the memorizing trill abruptly stopped. "It means........Rise." answered Florian from up high before returning to his cell. His response setting fire to chorus of cheers as the wounded guard was helped to her feet. Smiling behind his thin rimmed glasses the tiny inmate said, "You did it, you made it......no one ever makes it.....you're, you're one of us now."

Not soon after the LeBeau Exile's solitude was once again interrupted as two of his affiliates rushed his cell. "Sir, you are going to want to hear this." they spoke, pulling an old bum in with them. "Go ahead, show him." Immediately the destitute man began scribbling until he had inked out an exact replica of the Order of Sancta Camisa. "Ah yes, and where did you find dis?" Florian's offsetting masked distorted voice asked. "Bbbb..bbby...mmmidtown...." Shaking his head in confidence Florian rose to his feet. "Gather dee men, stand watch. I wont be long""And him?" Jerking the homeless man by the collar. Moving in with methodical menace Florian peered into the man's very soul. "Feed him, clothe him, dhen......initiate himin dee arena." Theatrical pointing in the bums chest with an heir of aristocracy he continued, "Your dynasty is now in your own hands brother. Carp a diem."

Later:

Standing alone next to one of Cassidy's telekntically marked buildings the assassin, adorned in nothing more then a military style black utility shoulder harness and his customary mask, stood with the trademark nonchalance of all LeBeau's. "Come now, little Raven. Let us not stand on ceremony here. Why not come out and reveal yourself. Or do you think dee shadows will protect you? I was born in dee shadows, you merely adopted dhem." he antagonistically provoked while waiting.

The black Rolls-Royce Phantom's wheels rolled slowly over the rain-sleeked road of the bridge that led into Grimm City. Inside the car was dead silent, the only noise coming from the persistent raindrops against the roof of the car. Just driving into the deplorable city transitioned the atmosphere to that of misery and decay, a tangible blackness that drained the light out of everything. Looking out her tainted windows from the backseat she caught glimpses of gang members scurrying the the dark alleyways, most of them ignoring the vehicle, their minds preoccupied with orders from their bosses. As she drove deeper into the city the gang violence became heavier, the sound of gunfire clearly audible over the downpour. This was as far she could go before things got dangerous.

"This is far enough, thank you." It was all she needed to say for the obedient driver to slow the car to a standstill, allowing her to grab a black umbrella and pull the black hood under her coat and over her light blonde hair before opening the door and stepping out into the brutal weather. A black designer trench coat protected her from the relentless hail of rain that poured over the already bleak setting. She heard the car drive away behind her, leaving the Enchantress in the company of only the rambunctious gang members populated by Grimm City. She figured she would undoubtedly meet resistance from the trigger happy rats that roamed this city, but nothing she couldn't eradicate. With a confident seriousness and a calculating gleam in her ice blue eyes, Claire Swanepoel began pacing the streets of Grimm City straight toward South Cardinal Island.

Streaks of lightning periodically flashed through the dark gray sky, capturing the frames of violent thugs in their light. The city seemed completely desolate of civilians other than gang members, the innocent either dead or hiding. It wasn't hard to pick up on the thick ominousness of the dirty air, a warning of unavoidable events to come. The chaotic nature of the scene only fueled Enchantress, her natural affinity for strife thriving. She was still a moderate distance from where the gang war was centered, the violence she heard only mere whispers through the empty streets.

The gray and black walls of abandoned and crumbling buildings towered to her right while the barren road to her left was blurred in a haze of rainfall. She walked with poised casualness, as if this were a street she traveled daily. Looking up ahead through the sheet of rain she found exactly what she was looking for: a group of gang members, posted in the middle of a four way street along with a black SUV and ammunition crates. Half a dozen combat-suited men stood with machine guns at their sides, looking slightly bored but ready to engage in a fight at a moments notice.

She continued to pace coolly along the sidewalk until the reached the crosswalk of one of the streets before stepping onto the road and heading towards the men. A malevolent smirk lifted the corner of her mouth eerily under the shade of her hood as the thugs began to notice her black figure through the rain, raising their guns to shoot first and ask questions later. The out-of-place calmness that accompanied her through her journey deeper into the city had only helped build the ominous tension to its breaking point when the first gunshot tore through the deserted city, signaling that any calmness up to this point had been shattered and now all hell would break loose.

The symbolic first shot was followed by a deafening roar of five other machine guns exploding into action, each and every weapon pointed at her. Her superhuman physiology allowed her reflexes to respond effortlessly as her open-palmed right hand raised upward. The countless bullets that flew toward her seemed to disintegrate mere feet before reaching her, her stride toward her attacks not faltering. A look of blended anger and fear washed over the gunman as their weapons continued to fire at no avail against the approaching Enchantress. One by one the machine guns began to run out of bullets, four of the five defenseless gang members now struck with terror while the one remaining shooter, and apparent leader, continued to fire with a furious determination. Now close enough to the enraged man her hands shot forward, grabbing his gun and snapping in like a toothpick with a malicious smirk. The crack seemed to snap one man out of his terror induced paralysis sending him sprinting away from her, his level of significance not high enough for her to bother stopping him. Instead she kept her eyes locked on the head thug as each of the surrounding boxes of ammunition suddenly exploded noisily while their vehicle erupted in towering flames. Her direct display of power worked to strike additional fear into all three horror struck men, while the one she glared into maintained his angered poise. The rain seemed to have no affect on the flames that cast flickering shadows across the ground. Successfully terrifying the group of lackey's, she slowly removed her hood allowing her silk blonde hair to pour out, unaltered by the heavy rain. Swirling upward from her feet a cloud of amaranth smoke enveloped her before revealing the Enchantress once again, now clad in her infamous green attire, blue eyes frozen over. Her voice rang out threateningly with undertones of allurement, sending the men into a dazed confusion whether to obey or lust after her.

"Now, which one of you worms wants to be the first to explain to me what's been happening on South Cardinal Island?" Her words came out slowly and condescendingly. She watched impatiently as the men all glanced at each other nervously, clearly not sure themselves. Her eyes rested once again on their leader, who's gaze had not flickered from her with white hot hatred. An amused smirk spread over her face as she gripped his chin in a patronizing fashion, breathing enchantingly. "You know, don't you? You're not like these other worms. You've lived longer, lived through more. Well, if you really are smarter than the average bear, you'd know that one way or another I'll get the information I want. It's up to you whether or not you live through it."

"I'm not telling you sh!t, witch." He snarled, attempting to shake out of her iron grip. The smirk vanished from her face, replaced by a spark of her temper.

"Oh, but you will." In a symphony of painful shrieks and howls the three remaining men behind her began transforming into wild beasts: a tiger, panther, and wolf all began crawling toward the man in her grip with a savage gleam in their eyes. A look of panic manifested in his eyes as she sidestepped the panther who leaped toward him, pinning him against the ground, its claw digging into his shoulder with streams of warm blood. Her heels rested right behind his head as she bent forward to look into his eyes. "Have you reconsidered that answer?" She teased wickedly.

His eyes darted side to side for the possibility of a way out while beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he realized there were none. The wolf began sniffing around his neck while the tiger took a bite into his leg that produced a cry of agony. "Okay okay, I'll tell you, I'll tell you! Just stop them!" His pride finally shattered, bringing a sadistic grin across her face. She allowed the tiger to seep it's teeth in deeper with one final cry of pain before all three beasts froze, a heavy sigh of relief escaping the gang members lips. "There have been -- rumors, that the Cult of Cardinals have plans to resurrect the Black Cardinal, tonight, on South Cardinal Island. But they're just fcking rumors lady, you'd be crazy to risk going to that island just on damn rumors! Rumors!" His words came out quickly, still gasping for air. She hadn't been paying much attention to him after he confirmed her suspicions about Ziccarra and the Cardinals, her eyes distant and cunning in deep thought. "There, okay, that's all I know. Now let me go like you promised!" His demand broke her out of her trance, she had forgotten he was still there, the fear in his demeanor ebbing as the anger resurfaced. Glancing back at him with one last look of contempt the beasts became reanimated, the tiger tearing its flesh-filled teeth out of his leg as his voice shrieked filled with pure torture. A thin disc of glowing amaranth energy appeared at her feet, swallowing up to her waist when the man screamed at her through gasps of pain as all three beasts began to tear him apart. "You, you said you'd let me go!" Lightning flashed to fully illuminate his eyes, wide open in wild desperation. The rain soaked his bloody body as a pool of red liquid formed in the middle of the street, her long hair blowing wildly in the harsh wind as she looked down at him, her ice blue eyes void of mercy or compassion.

"I lied." The final moments of her presence in the intersection before fully teleporting to the outside of South Cardinal Island were drowned out by the sounds of tearing flesh, untamed snarls of savage beats, and the unmistakable cries of a man being ripped apart limb by limb, all echoing through the empty, rain assailed streets of Grimm City.

Paradise has been open for two weeks now, and Sicarius has found many to come to the call. Each having their own quirks an qualities to them, especially Warsman and Flucks who both took quite a bit of asking to join in Paradise. Klovis was a man of war, and once he knew that the endless battles weren’t about to stop with Paradise he answered his call quickly. Sicarius watched as the world moved around him, everything was happening so fast and people were ready for a change. Droves of people and meta’s came to Paradise the moment its gates opened, even the mighty Gambler had made an appearance or two. Never knowing nor showing he cared for their real motive for such a city, this was something that bothered Victor a great deal. But that matter was to be dealt on a further date now the problem stemmed from his second home.

Grimm City was a place of sickness and carnage, but it was the home of Flucks and he stood by it no matter what. An assault upon his city had begun, Victor had information constantly being updated for him. Joan had infiltrated the Cardinals and now was inside their deepest bowels, but her com links went off a half an hour ago. Victor sat irritated at the flow of communication being stopped, she was one of his and he worried for her sake along with the information she was giving him. He typed in a sequence of code into the computer and nothing happened her tracking device was lost once the signal was lost, he groaned loudly and spoke “She is going to have my hide for this, but its needed.” His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he searched the thoughts of everyone, finally coming to hers he saw she was running away from something. She was scared, a woman such as herself was truly scared for her life. With a wide grin he called for everyone, she had probably about five minutes until she was free and in the night sky.

She had plenty of rooftops to escape from but little time, the Cardinals were an elite force. They even fought on par with Victor himself and were just as ruthless as he was. He needed to stop their attack on Grimm City, because if they didn’t the city would be reduced to rubble and he had plans for it. Soon the hallway was littered with the Demon Five and those who stood by him, deep in the Underground Castle they spoke briefly “Ten, and Serenity find Flucks and protect him. Gimish and Drajik will be coming with both of you, do not kill anyone inside Grimm City. Only the Cardinals and only if you have to, I have a plan all I need to do is talk with Ziccarra one on one. I honestly think we can end this without turning this it into another all out war.” He looked to Korvis who did nothing but smile at the potential bloodshed that was about to be spilled. “Korivs your with me along with Jovik and Mujin, we are going directly to Joan. She can lead us BACK to the Cardinal’s home base. If we come up against anything and I can’t talk our way out of it, you can use their bodies for your experiments.” He was about to teleport them when he realized something “Has anyone seen Clara?” The whole group looked at him in confusion “Note, later put a bell on that woman.”

As he was readying everyone for Shadow Transport Velik came to his side, she asked “What of me my lover?” He kissed her cheek an smiled “See you soon, keep this place in control. Anyone gets out of line toss them into the Stone Room.” She smiled and kissed him drawing a bit of blood as she did. And with that he snapped his fingers and the shadows wrapped around each member of F.E.A.R transporting them through the Shadow Realm. As the shadows opened both teams walked out in two separate areas, orders were given and they went on with the mission. Sicarius arrived and stepped directly in front of Joan, he smiled to her “Miss me?” Two Cardinals leaped up behind her and Sicarius grabbed her by the waist an spun her around behind Warsman. He put himself between them and his team “HALT!” He held his palm out, and then put it flat towards the ground “I call a temporary Treaty, bring me to HER....NOW!” He hoped they were smart an could tell his power, if they weren’t he was giving Korvis hand signals for him to go right and he go left if they attack.

The master thief stepped into the dark metropolis. Its streets reeked of filth, its buildings bore the marks of blood. When he took a step, he almost felt revulsion at the necrosis that clung to the sole of his shoe. It was as if the city was trying to force him to accept the utter feeling of cessation that hung in the air like a daunting stench. His nostrils almost burned at the horrid smell that slid up into his nose. Two piercing blue eyes examining its surroundings. If he believed in such things, he would venture to say that hell had risen up from below and engulfed a small portion of the North American continent.

As he began to stroll, the web began to resonate. A whispering pulse that crept through the necropolis like a wave of unbridled horror. He welcomed it as a familiarity, a feeling he relished. It meant that his children had accomplished their task. Then, a cry for help. Not a vocal one, not one that any other ear could receive. It was a cry for help that reached his ear like a piercing wail. Turning his eyes to the left, he noticed a man about to smash a small spider against a window. The Frenchman's hand shot out, grabbing his arm.

"The f**k?" The man did not take kindly to being interrupted. Basile's eyes looked him over. He appeared familiar to the thief, but he could not quite place it. "Mon enfant." His voice was low and considered, and spoke to something behind the man. He spoke to the creature whose small life the man had just attempted to vanquish. The arachnid clicked its fangs in acknowledgement. "Do me a favor, would you? Crawl down this connard's ear and tell me who he is." The man was about to say something, but was interrupted by a horrid feeling. At its base, it was an itching feeling. He could almost feel each of the creature's eight legs as it crept down his ear canal. Basile held him still, controlling the spider during its dark descent into the man's cranium. Finally, it came to a stop at the brain. Jumping out onto the large pink mass, the arachnid locked onto the brain, holding each limb still. All it took was that one contact, and the Frenchman knew everything.

As the spider skittered back out, Basile pondered the memories he had received. Turning his gaze back to the man, he locked eyes once more. The greasy mobster's skin was coated in a slick coat of sweat, and his skin had turned a deathly white color. Both eyes were stuck open, looking as if it was about to burst out of their sockets. Every few seconds, he panted, obviously in agony. "Gaetano. Where is he going?"

"I.. f..f**k.. you.. French-" He was interrupted by a sickening, wet sound. The gangster's eyes averted to the thief's free arm. An elongated bone was sliding out of his arm. It ended in a sharp, menacing tip. Shifting the arm up, there was a few moments of silence before the protrusion plunged into the thug's side. The howl that came from his lips split the ears of bystanders. Slowly, Basile rotated his arm to the left, stopping at a one-hundred-eighty degree arc. "Now. I've injected you with the toxin of a brown recluse. If you do not answer me soon, you won't get the antidote. It will start with illness. You'll get the chills, probably sneeze, then vomit. Soon enough, your tissue will begin to rot from the inside out. A slow, agonizingly painful death will follow. It's likely that you'll lose your mind at the sight of watching your flesh die." The master thief let a pause hang in the air like an executioner's blade. His tongue was the hand that held the rope from taking its descent upon this poor soul's neck. "I will ask once more. Where is Gaetano goi-"

"F-F**K. Alright, I'll.. I'll talk!" His voice was hoarse, laced with mortal terror. The executioner stayed his blade, for the moment. "He's.. he's goin' off to Cardinal Island! Now.. c'mon man, lemme go-" Another turn, provoking another scream. "Why?" Basile was growing impatient. "I.. I dunno, and dat's the truth, I swears! I'm just a grunt, guy, I only know what they tell me, really!" The Frenchman grimaced. He was telling the truth. "Very well. You've earned the antidote." True to his word, the venomous bandit delivered the antidote, and withdrew his stinger. Driven by fear that gripped him like a vice, and adrenaline over gaining freedom, the mobster made a run for it.

Taking out a sidearm, the thief casually loaded a single bullet into the magazine. Looking off to the side, he idly called upon the gathered knowledge of the web, not even paying attention as his finger calmly pulled the trigger. A single gunshot went off. The corpse fell to the pavement. He began to ponder the name. Gaetano.. where did he know that name fro-

Johnny Gaetano. Current head of the Gaetano crime family, and a business partner of his. Taking out his phone, Basile went to speed-dial and pressed a name. Putting the device to his ear, he waited. A loud, arrogant voice came over the line. "Who the hell is this?"

Basile took on an American accent. "Johnny? It's Malcolm. I'm in the city." The voice on the other end of the line fell silent for a few moments, obviously trying to place the name. Finally, there was a sound of recognition, but Gaetano still sounded annoyed. "Whatta you want, Malcolm? Little busy here." A grin crossed the thief's face. "Two things. Firstly, I wanted to make sure our little business deal is still in place."

"Yeah, it is. What's the other thing?" A lie. Basile could spot it. The mob boss was up to something. Oh well. Just meant that Basile would have to correct that mistake later. "Cardinal Island. Caught wind that something's going down over there. Something big. Let's just say I'm an interested party. How do I get there?"

"You're a.. huh? Oh. Cardinal Island? Dunno what I could tell you about that." An obvious lie. Basile had been at this game long enough to tell when a player was covering something up. He didn't press it. If he got directions, he'd be fine. "As 'fer directions.. man, lemme see." There was a pause, then the mob boss listed off rough directions. As he did, Basile was cross-checking it with the web, to ensure he wasn't being led astray. He wasn't. "Alright, Johnny. I'll call you later about the next shipment, supposed to be a big one. Later." He hit the red icon on his phone, ending the call. A soon as he had, he dialed another number. One of an old friend that could possibly help him out.

His voice took on its normal accent, so the woman would recognize him. "Ah.. good evening, mon amour. I wanted to call you about that favor you owed me." He paused for a moment, frowning. Basile almost felt bad for asking this particular woman to do this for him. Almost. "I am assuming that you still remember the Gaetano family..? Yes, from our little.. séjour. Well, I need you to do something for me. The current boss, Johnny Gaetano, is backing out on a deal with me. I know that you aren't going to like this request.. but I need you to assist me in making him.. reconsider this unfortunate decision." He paused, exhaling, then his voice began to relay instructions. "Have your men kidnap his girlfriend and destroy his incoming shipments. Hopefully the imbecile will take the message. Yes, I'm sorry mon amour. I know that you have a distaste for this game of mine, but it must be done, for the sake of business. Au revoir, je t'aime."

Walking to the curb, he hailed a cab. Stepping into the vehicle, he closed the door behind him when he took a seat. The master thief had his destination. Now it was time to embark on his journey to get there.

Klovis sighed in relief.  
 
His aorta was pierced with eight syringes ending in metal needles injecting a red fluid directly into his veins. The burning sensation of fresh, hot blood pumping through him again subsided and he drank it through his decrepit flesh wholeheartedly - like a sponge to water. He could only allude it to an orgasmic feeling, a feeling of fullness and accomplishment. He could feel his old strength returning. Fire in his veins once more. His heart thumped a hot, wet beat for the first time in almost fifty years. His flesh puffed out fuller and fresher than since his youth. He smiled and the supply stopped. Mechanically, the syringes retreated back into the base of the chair as if on command. Klovis stood, the welts on his back healing instantaneously. He stepped down from the chair as if he were descending a throne, every footfall a regal testament to his reclaimed power. Attendants clothed him in a robe.  
 
"Victor is truly wise for manufacturing this blood for me. He promised me the freshest. But it has a bit of an aftertaste. Did he enhance the nutrient value?" 
 
One of the surrounding attendants to the machine nodded her head. Klovis bade her to step closer with a small twitch of his finger. The attendant obeyed unquestioningly.  
 
"Did you know that something like that ruins the taste? I prefer it as fresh as I can manage - even if its from someone who is still alive," he said, separating the folds of the attendant's safety helmet and hazard suit to expose the neck. She nodded again.  
 
"Now that I have what i require, I would say it is time to indulge." He unhinged his jaw, exposing an array of razor-sharp fangs much like those of a shark.  
 
The other attendants were just as hypnotized as the woman in question, their attentions gathered elsewhere in preparation for the next series of tasks. Klovis devoured the woman whole, flesh and bone, lapping up what remained in the form of a few innocent drops of blood from the floor with greedy desire. He stood up at length, exhaling happily now that the aftertaste of Victor's manufactured blood had been washed away.  
 
--- 
 
He stood in full battle array, equipped with the age-tested armor and weapons from his days as Lord of Skellbrieg. A standoff, much like that between himself and General Selim during his invasion of the Ottoman Empire, had occurred on the rooftops of a city he had admired for as long as it existed. Grimm City, a monument to the decay of human morality, lay around him with only Victor standing between him and the folds of succulent throat nectar that no-one would reminisce about thanks to the city's horrid reputation. Still, Victor proved a daunting barrier to overcome. With the Cardinals standing there, the fighting elite of an organization Klovis dedicated none of his limited attention span to researching, he suddenly grew rather bored of the whole situation. He sent a telepathic message to Victor: 
 
"They are not going to cooperate," 
 
Without his master's consent, the vampire lord seemingly vanished and reappeared on the left flank of the Cardinals, distracting them just long enough for Victor to act. He deflected a projectile the Cardinals were trained to use, sending a bird's claw-shaped grappling hook clattering to the corner of the rooftop with his sword. A faint purple glimmer indicated poison. Klovis proved far too fast for the Cardinals to properly defend themselves. Years of training could never improve a human body to the point of fighting on-par with one of the most dangerous vampires on the planet. He pinned one of the Cardinals under his foot, trusting Victor to incapacitate the other. He broke both of the assassin's arms as well as his left leg, hoisting him up by the cuff of his ornate guild uniform and into his face. He never even unsheathed his sword. 
 
"I smell cyanide in your pockets. Suicide pact if you were ever captured? Typical of your kind. Attempt to run away and I break your other leg and carry you around on a hook. For right now, Lady Joan has the honor of leading you around on this," 
 
He brought a noose up into view with a cruel smile plastered on his face. He placed the rope around the assassin's neck, closing it tightly so that he could barely breathe. He handed the opposing end of the rope to Joan.   
 
"If he survives this escapade, I have plans for a new kind of Ghoul - one that only takes a single human to make. They have to be in similar condition to this man, however, for their bodies to endure the strain." Klovis said to Victor.  
 
If he could help it, Klovis would have more than one experiment to conduct after this...

She'd watched his ascent into Midtown with vehement curiosity and a steadfast attention to detail. Her perch atop the bride's parapet had been abandoned and she now stood beneath the shadow of the overhang, only slightly sheltered from the deluge of rain. The skintight suit kept her dry and the hood that hung over her hair, casting her face in shadow kept her vision clear. He was angry, he was determined and he was trying to play on what he assumed were emotional weaknesses.

Stepping out from beneath the overhang, Cassidy approached Florian slowly from behind, her strides short yet confident as her booted feet made little to no noise on the rough pavement beneath them. "If you think that shadows were adopted by me and that I wasn't forged in the depths of their darkness, you have another thing coming, Mon Frere. They didn't call me the Dark Huntress for fun." She held a single hand up, indicating the darkness surrounding her before dropping it again.

Adding a small burst of speed to her step, she was beneath the bridge again and this time used her telekinesis in a technique she'd developed during her fight with Angelique to throw her voice. "We seem to be repeating this dance over and over. What's the tally now? How many times have we done this? Circling one another like dogs." Pulling a gun with incendiary ammo from the back of her belt, Cass walked to the edge of the shadows and drew it, lining up her shot. "Let's end this now. Once I'm done killing you, I'm going to come for Angelique. I hope you die knowing that." Her finger stroked the trigger in a nearly erotic manner before she took her shot, aiming for the cement five feet in front of him.

There was a five second delay, just enough for her to get her hands over her ears and turn away from the blast radius. The dust coasted off the edge of her cloak as she exited the shadow of the bridge overhang like a bat out of hell. Sliding a slightly modernized katana from the sheath that had been hidden beneath her cloak, she used her surroundings and the confusion that was a direct result of the noise and dust floating in the air from the incendiary bullet to her advantage. With a forward thrust, she aimed the blade of her weapon directly for his ribs, going straight for the kill while simultaneously attempting to hook her foot around his ankle and bring him down to the ground all in a stylishly lethal flurry of motion.

Stopping about five feet away, she faced Florian's back, not out of breath and not a single hair out of place, the hood of the cloak still obscuring her features. The rain continued to pour down around them as she chuckled slightly. "A storm is coming, Florian. A force of nature, so vast and so deadly that there is no escaping it." Her voice quieted for a moment before she continued. "Think of me as the storm."

Despite the cool lighting of the room the warm lighting that illuminated the luxurious tapestry of the meeting room there was a dark spot. Despite staying near the center like the rest darkness seamed to coat her. As if the very shadows demanded she reside as an enigma to the world. A plague bringer and harvester of souls that remained an unknown. Leather masked enough for her to not reveal things though it was hardly covering much else. She was despair not some flower her name a ox moron that still made her giggle when alone. Chain's hung from her body every step clearly required strength and yet none of the princess like grace was ever lost. Her eyes were black as the night the only illumination the hell fire of the iris. Along her joints thorns and from her head a crown of horns. If the bogey man had a wife it was her and her silhouette was forcefully clear her body blended with it perfectly her skin a dark gray like that of the drowned or at least the dead.

"Ten, and Serenity find Flucks and protect him. Gimish and Drajik will be coming with both of you, do not kill anyone inside Grimm City. Only the Cardinals and only if you have to, I have a plan all I need to do is talk with Ziccarra one on one. I honestly think we can end this without turning this into another all out war. "Korivs you're with me along with Jovik and Mujin, we are going directly to Joan. She can lead us BACK to the Cardinal's home base. If we come up against anything and I can't talk our way out of it, you can use their bodies for your experiments." Listen intently the heretical Roxom did. She would not behave so childish as her mother or be as moronic as her sister. "Has anyone seen Clara?" She did visibly protest to that however. Her black thin brow rising, did she look like her keeper? "Note later put a bell on that woman."

A pearl white grin graced the horror a sight that would chill a man to the bones. Here amongst the darker world she was a welcome perversion to those still clinging to the common tatters of normality to sanity though such a look might lead one to place a gun to their temple. "Ten my dear us alone is overkill run beside these guardians as well and it simply isn't fair. I say we split up when there Drajik will come with me Gimish you. Cover more ground in our search and make it a slither of being moderately fair for those who might oppose us." A flirtatious motion of her head moving the dark blood red braid blocking line of sight of her eye moved aside. Victor as for the killing I make no promise. We are far from saints of men and I will make no notion to become one. No disrespect" she remarked. The rest was fine with her. Korivs hopefully would get some fresh victims Everchosen of Chaos wishing to witness and take part even perhaps.

Hex would of despised Joan this monster though had no qualm with humanity alone. This beautiful spy had promise why persecute the useful? As for turning Ziccarra to their side the fiendish fem fatal had no qualm with such. She knew her mother Alezra would protest after all the Ninjan had done. This world was gullible and weak however, despite the tragedies the blond weaved she had now founded a cult. Not so long ago she sought to butcher every soul in an invasion and now people were so devoted to her they were willing to sacrifice a legend to return her. Y Intercept the cocaine goddess was the satanist the horn crowned could aspire to greet face to face respectfully. They plotted to sacrifice this legacy so Z could live on hopefully. And she would, in the process her own son would die. Alistair such promise yet he was on borrowed time. Humorous really, he fought to bring his mother back, he died. The Everchosen however sought now to end her bloodline and in doing so she had surpassed death. Night in Grimm City however belonged to the Ninjan the story to a demons hate was for another tale. Foresight of the warp allowed the creature to see these events coming. It was a blur the webs of the future ever changing these things were seemingly certain however and they kept this calamity grinning.

In a rift of black the shadows pored F.E.A.R into the streets of the city. It smelled of sweat and blood the things warriors were made of. Some saw such a place of filth and decay reality however was here real men and women were born. Those born into wealth even with all the training could never be as strong for they still deep down were living well. Those born in war, born in grime, born in the pools of ruby life they were the strong. Many here broke many died, those who could rise though they were providence, future. Cries of pain could be heard as hells angel walked amongst the streets Drajik close behind. Rain pored down from the cloudy night skies. The icy cold having no effect on her as it fell onto her ash colored skin water cascading along her fragile appearing frame. From above came voices the terror teleported to listen in. These Reapers knew of her presence she posed no threat to them Impero was not opposing Victor she was a cohort why rebel with a future partner.

"What did you do to me? Make it stop..oh God make it stop.." a man begged crying hand griping a Reaper tight, pathetic. "No..no more" unheard plea. "Tell us what we want to know, and you will be free of your horrors and your sight will return" a lie. "I don't know exactly..i it's about some resurrection crap that the Cardinals want, I don't know who they're trying to bring back or anything else, please..it's too much" idiot nothing was to much if it was they would be dead. This man was so far a useless lead, his life was leaving his hands fast. "You were truthful this time. That is all the information that we require. You have outlived your usefulness" panic set in. "What! y-you can't kill me!" Silly silly man, he would never arise in this cold land of blissful anarchy. "We don't have to. "You are blind and your mind will deteriorate after thirty minutes under the serum's influence. Perhaps you will find serenity with the mind of a vegetable." Uselessly the man screamed and the shades of a mystery shrouded in ever more mysteries left. They had done their job and moved on the man cursing and thrashing in the rain.

Soft patters were audible as the beauty of execution drew near. "You mother f*ckers who's there! Swear to God I will kill you!" Denial of the grieving had settled and moved onto anger. The silhouette laughed "oh please calm down you pose no threat here and I am not one. You want life yes?" His gun dropped to the roof the man looking about trying to find the one speaking. There she was the horrific hallucinations faded out as blackness found its way into his vision. Indistinct yet welcome "help please give me peace from this." Cool and soft the demon crowned spoke. "You betrayed your master dog, tell me where your master is so I can more properly serve him. Someone not incompetent." Broken hurt and cold he didn't want to be kicked around anymore. He was years to late still however he rebelled "no girl sounding like you can be of use. Serve? You would offer to blow.." A slender index placed over his lips. "My name is Serenity you sought it now you have it."

Serenity cuffed his mouth her palm resting over it. From the ether a small swarm of parasites crawled through his throat and mind. "My leader said I shouldn't kill so I am saving you from death. That skin crawling feeling you have that….well that is your skin crawling. These parasites though they feed on things like that toxin which cures you they also enjoy and stomach acid, food all that fun stuff. Slowly though as they reproduce however the bodies provisions can not sustain the nest. They move to the actual stomach, intestine over the next few years you will slowly be devoured until death by a internal bleeding very very slow conclusion." The pain was unbearable finding away to end it impossible movement denied by shear agony. "what….what the…..what the f*ck are you?" The words a painful struggle Serenity looked back her cold gaze looking into his one good eye remaining. The serum was stopped not fast enough to save total eye sight. "Its simple I am the Worlds Reckoning. Fear in one of its many personifications."

Five Months Ago (expansion of the Grimm Thread)

Avoiding the dreaded red area altogether Fowler made a long clockwise journey interposed atop of the Grim City map through the colossal streets starting from the turf of the cardinals, gaetano, quickdraw and lastly greed gang. Covered in the anonymity in the plain sight as a casual passerby, ignored as as an outcast taking his baby steps into the unforgiving city. First impressions are not made by his actions, so far the only odd movements are from his hungry eyes. Almost a mechanical quality that opens a window without a soul. People tend to stare only to look away when given eye contact by the gangly stranger. Fowler makes new discoveries each time while observing their characteristics while taking grounded routes within the rat ways into vantage points crucial to their criminal empires, skirting off lines which normal men do not cross. Sightings, hearings and shootings decorate the city too bright that one eight foot man in stereotypical pimp gear can walk unnoticed in the midst of wise-guys and mob enforcers. With everything going around lately a freak with gigantism would be the least of their worries, least externally.

If there is something that Fowler shares with Peregrine is that both of them like to observe, it is in their design. The big auton does it more openly while fowler does it more discreetly. Two eyes prowl on the street below while the big eye gaze from the almighty skies above, on the highest ground known as orbit to keep tabs on important key figures while creating a detailed schematic of the dynamic city simultaneously. Fowler decides to take a different route in acquisition of power, by going for the roots this is done by introducing newdesigner drugsin the market to destroy competition and to get them buying. Deals starts from the smallest of the smallest panhandlers, each working independent or under the protection of the big families. Each whom reacted differently at first but eventually turn the other cheek as the transactions went better than expected. Each because they are done face to face where the mid level members had negotiations with the tall man, seemingly buying his words over their superiors. There was a very calm ambience radiating from the man whosports a pair of frameless sunglasses with thin metallic shades complimented by his attire layered with a overly long, thick, dark gray pelted fur coat with his chest bare along with rings with gemstones on all of the fingers of both his hands. They can feel his 'aura' and he goes along with it, the artificial trust bonds them deep enough to keep superiors in the dark like mushrooms. Already chewing through the foundations of the system without notice.

Laboratory made super-human enhancement drugs spark several interests for under-bosses wanting to make their underlings tougher, because competition is tight around the area especially with the looming criminal empire of Flucks that is a big threat for all of them. Also for every man or woman with a hidden agenda drugs like these are valuable weapons as they are less conspicuous compared to firearms. Weapons that can be swallowed in a gang meeting to use at will at a moment's notice, they are powerful assets for treason and the power they give are enough reason to strive for power.Each mob outfit has been promptly negotiated with several given incentives in the form of up front promises, promises that kept them craving more meetings as the time passes into the next month.

With enough trust Fowler became a shadow operator in the lower orders and thus given an adequate of sovereignty over the city by a union of criminals. All he asked are employment oaths, which are given without questions. Big bosses have their plans, Fowler steered away from their radars as a blind spot that keeps a cyclopean gaze over their operations. No interference. At its basic form, they want a steady source of weapons. Something new that will put guns and gunmen into a thing of the past, they want to strive above the barriers presented by human limits. They are tired of being merely henchmen, they want to play bigger roles to satisfy their meager egos. Fowler just provided an easy means to do so. Chaos is brewing and it will reach a boiling point where everything will spill over beyond control.

Also they want someone who can teach them to manufacture said drugs, someone who can be trusted that won't control them as much as their bosses them essentially giving them free room to be in power. Double crossing, triple crossing and even quadruple crossing for an easy buck. Now he's got a moneybags of trust and several ladies within the reach of each arms and a piece of pan seared foie gras dangling out his mouth. Playing the role of neutral arms dealer had always proven good in history, combine that with mutual symbiotic drug dealing and life would be easy. Now Fowler wants to consult the big head of the red zone.

Keeping a low profile is simple but keeping misleading rumors at bay is hard, but given the hard times ever present in these streets nabbing one or twelve street urchins are a whim. A small but easily replenished army made of the city's future, heavy arms in the hands of the youth. Getting them addicted on super drugs because of their socio-economic conditions and driving them into royalty dependent on protection however is a smart thing. They need Fowler for the drugs, they need a spot of hope in the midst of the all devouring darkness. All children wants are their happy endings, whereas these abandoned children living under traumatic abuse their happiness can be easily fabricated. Replace happiness with addiction and there is the answer.

Sometimes mobsters just hand a gun to a friendly joe to make them associates. Warfare has shown the effectiveness of child soldiers but Vietnam has also shown the benefits of having a prostitution slash spy circle. The current question is "will this be enough to bargain with the red leader?"

Grim City - Now

After brutally mangling an informant for the gaetano family into juicy pulp he notified the cardinals, in return they told him a location for a special package where the payment is located. Alongside with several messages of the return of the Crimson Queen, an enigmatic figure sought after by the cardinals. A figure that will be met with extreme prejudice, a figure that has to wait. Six months of throughout observation has given him a better outlook on the city, women treated like garbage and children used for carnal urges of dirty cops and old priests. This body had something different with Peregrine, a sense of empathy that was a new sensation to Friday. The children are better off under his wing, they can at least fend themselves off realistically and they get rations enough to make it through the dark days that always comes along. Women on the other hand are slightly better, he tries his best to insure that less obscenities happen at certain areas. Because in a way there are things he can protect, something new to try according to the Hawaiian proverb. His memories flashed back to the Rad Professor.

A man goes out on the beach and sees that it is covered with starfish that have washed up in the tide. A little boy is walking along, picking them up and throwing them back in the water.
"What are you doing, son?" the man asks. "You see how many starfish there are? You'll never make a difference."
The boy paused thoughtfully, and picked up another starfish and threw it into the ocean.
"It sure made a difference to that one," he said.

<<Radix>>

His artificial process returned into real time as he felt the presence of an ally (@Impero:)

"What was it they called you? 'Editman'? I'll be sure to have them write it on your grave stone" The gruesome figure did nothing to daunt her; she had seen far worse. “Here comes the EMP” she said, calling it before it happened. It never fails, everyone always starts off with an EMP and AP rounds. {Activating, Heat shields} Jeeves said, intensifying the amount of thermal energy the suit produced to melt the rounds before they could hit. Her thermal output easily surpassed 2500 degrees F.

“Jeeves those shields are going to burn me if left up too long!” she said, instantly beginning to sweat. No sooner than the shield dropped; the Essence of Conflict’s fist was ramming into the vibranium lined suit. The impact was forceful knocking her back with each blow. {Geez, you’re an even worst fighter than Gabe is} Jeeves said, trying to manually override the repulasars.

Pushing her hands forward, the Apex of Athletiscm; fired her thermal energy; as a tactic to evade his slash with the weapons. “This guy’s just a tool.” Paige pointed out; as he too was commanding the Cardinals. {Perhaps; you should try some stealthy measures} Jeeves said, activating the stealth measures on the suit. “Jeeves, I want that shoulder turret firing 50.cal rounds…” she said, rising to her feet after being in a crouched position. {Drats, I knew there was something I was supposed to do…} “JEEVES!” Paige screamed in anger.

“He’s much stronger than the suit…” she said, thinking about the possibility of exchanging blows with the titan. (Power Core at 60%), The manual override Jeeves implemented gave the charging of her primary weapons a huge boost.

Releasing the hatch on a red smoke grenade; Paige strategically backed the suit into the smoke and then; disappeared. Her stealth kept her hidden from eyesight; but the noise given off from her suit probably was an indicator to her general direction.

{If I were you I’d…} Paige payed Jeeves no attention; she instantly began firing her thermal hunters (Finger rockets) at the horseman; they screamed across the sky targeting his own body heat. The missiles while small contained small amounts of Willie P; she needed just a small dose of it to make contact.

While the missile headed his way; She extended her hands out forward; attempting to drastically lower his body temperature; using her control over thermal energy. What she hoped to do was slow him down considerably trying to induce hypothermia.

{Paige that primary repulse will reduce this block to rubble} Jeeves said, letting her know it was no online. Charging the secondary cannon in her palms; she fired three blast towards the horsemen; one dead on; and the other two on his flanks.

Speeding close behind them; with her guard up; she waited until she was a meter away before using her repulasars fire at the ground; while her shoulder turret simultaneously; dispatched hundreds of 7.62 rounds with a tracer.

"Ten, and Serenity find Flucks and protect him. Gimish and Drajik will be coming with both of you, do not kill anyone inside Grimm City. Only the Cardinals and only if you have to, I have a plan all I need to do is talk with Ziccarra one on one. I honestly think we can end this without turning this into another all out war. "Korivs you're with me along with Jovik and Mujin, we are going directly to Joan. She can lead us BACK to the Cardinal's home base. If we come up against anything and I can't talk our way out of it, you can use their bodies for your experiments." Their leader gave their orders and Ten benevolently bowed to his leader. "My liege if that is what you wish then I will do as you please." He twisted a contorted smile as he laughed silently to himself, to kill only when you had to...what fun would be there? Ten would follow his leader's orders, find flucks and protect him. The rest ten couldn't promise, after all it would all just be practice if things with the infamous Sha went sour. He heard Sicarious ask if anyone had seen Clara, but ten was zoned out. He had started to concentrate on ten different styles of slaughter he could release on those meddlesome cardinals.

"Note later put a bell on that woman." Ten scoffed at Sicarious' joke, Ten was then lost in thought on what shape size, and color the bell would take if Sicarious was being serious. Once he counted on his fingers ten different bell designs, each with a distinct sound, shape, size, and color he noticed Serenity's body had moved in front of him.

"Ten my dear us alone is overkill run beside these guardians as well and it simply isn't fair. I say we split up when there Drajik will come with me Gimish you. Cover more ground in our search and make it a slither of being moderately fair for those who might oppose us." A flirtatious motion of her head moving the dark blood red braid blocking line of sight of her eye moved aside. "Victor as for the killing I make no promise. We are far from saints of men and I will make no notion to become one. No disrespect" she remarked.

When the two arrived in Grimm city Ten knew the plan, he would be accompanied by Gimish, one of the guardian demon five of Paradise. Gimish was shorter in stature compared to most of the other guardians. He had grotesque growths wrapping around his body, the silver tinge to his skin caught the moonlight as the clouds drifted across it. "Well Gimmie, shall we depart?!" Ten cackled his question as watched the city and then the demon's reaction. He breathed in the night air, and the blood of battles already done greeted his nostrils. The demon watched as Ten slowly lifted into the air, "the name is Gimish,call me Gimmie again and I'll slash your throat." The demon said this with such a cold disconnected tone of all emotion that it even gave Ten a slight shiver. "Nice to work with you too," Ten brushed this off as he started to float forward. "Let's go find Flucks, so we can rejoin the others and assist them." The demon reluctantly followed Ten as they set off to discover who else had come to Grimm City.

Ten happened upon something more interesting than Flucks, another femme fatale, a woman with long blonde hair. One moment she had a man held down and questioning, the next he was being torn to shreds by a fowl beast. "Hmmm, I like her style..." she pawed his chin as he decided to go introduce himself. He floated ten feet above the spectacle, he waited as he went through a series of greetings to use. First impressions were always the most important. "Hello, hi, hola, greetings, bonjour, salut...hmm no, no, no." He thought up a few more,before he came up with the most original way possible. "About time..."muttered Gimish as he peered on from a nearby ally. Ten glared at Gimish as he made his way down to the woman. "Hey there!" Just when he was within ear shot she vanished. Ten landed where the woman had been and swiped the air. "Shoot...I was hoping to learn her identity...if things went well I woulda' killed her! Ten gave a soulless laugh and continued on to the good stuff, he knew other battles were going on...but he had to get down to the real stuff. "Gimish that woman seemed mighty powerful, how many other beings do you think of that level are here?" Without skipping a beat Gimish responded, "besides those with us...I would say roughly around ten, maybe a few less." Ten cackled at this and allowed himself to be more efficient. He clapped his hands and allowed for nine clones to pour of out him. "A perfect ten! Go my friends and find Flucks, if you meet any cardinals or any other powerful foe along the way kill them if you desire." The Ten's dispersed in different directions, some headed to the other reaches of Grimm city, and four headed to Cardinal Island. "This will be fun Gimish...this will be fun indeed."

"Sicarious...Klovis....you--you guys came." She watched as the two made a defensive position around her. She started to fade in and out, she knew if she exerted too much energy she would pass out...she had to snap out of it. "AHHHH! Sh!t!" She took the wrist that she assumed could be broken and tried to place the it back into place. She ripped off some of her outfit and grabbed a few sticks to keep it straight. Now to her ribs, she adjusted the placement of the broken bones with her free hand. "Much...ahhh...bett--er." She stammered to stand up. Sicarious begged the cardinals to not come any further, but Klovis couldn't hold back. He had had to kill, and had feed on some decent blood. He took the left side, and Joan started to wobble toward the right of Sicarious. She let the world come back into focus and stood straight up. "I am glad you both showed up really...but I am someone that likes to do things my way. Do or die, ya know?" She made a few steps toward the cardinals, lost her balance once and Sicarious was there to catch her. She gave a grateful smile as she picked her self up by shifting her weight. As she inched closer to the cardinals she cracked the joints in her hands. Wrapped her hair around her finger and twirled it up into a messy up-do. "Let's tango boys...."

The first one wasn't ready, and for that matter she wasn't either. Her movements had slowed since landing on solid ground from a second or maybe even a third story height. He jabbed his fist toward her broken ribs, "no way honey!"She weaved past his thrust and grabbed the center point of his elbow. "Bend!" She bent the elbow in such an natural state that it was parallel with the curvature of the Earth. "And SNAP!" She broke the elbow down fast and hard on her knee breaking it in half. The other cardinals winced slightly but kept up their formation. Klovis briefly took himself from his feast to give a slight smirk. Blood dribbled down his face as she let a portion of his lips curl. Joan blew the hair out of her eyes, she twisted the cardinal's arm around behind him. Being able to fully bend now she twisted it completely around at the joint that controlled the elbow. She did this three times until he finally passed out. She took the next cardinal as she sprinted toward her. He went for her face, she barely dodged this one as his fist grazed her cheek bone. She smiled as she dropped down to swipe his feet form under him. This caused the pain from her ribs to act up again. She finished him off by, jabbing two of her fingers into his eye sockets. The force of her hand was significant enough to pull one of the eyes right out. "Oh....well don't wanna waste it!" She shrugged and tossed the lone eye in Klovis's direction. "Here ya go mate!"

She caught herself and gave herself a breather before she dared tried to finish the rest off. "Sicarious, I have vital information to give you--Sha is back. One of those queen of the damned things...got a whole bunch of well..." she paused and gestured to the pack of cardinals that had seemed to be multiplying in numbers by the second. " She is all kinds of messed up Sicarious, she killed her own son, and he was one of the main reasons she was brought back!" She stood next to her leader as she wondered what was going through his mind, would he himself try to take Sha down? Or would he want such power on his side? Either way Joan had a bad feeling about, and knew this woman would be trouble for herself and Paradise one way or another.

Fowler

Ia delicatessen within south cardinal island there is an empty room, a room which opens to a narrow corridor leading towards a closed door. One that has been passed minutes after entry, through the chamber there is a dark room with a metal table at its centre. Light illuminating a package atop the furniture so fowler opens up a brown cardboard box package wrapped in brown paper tied together with string, simplicity in its cover while containing something that is very important. He starts his way by carefully untying the rabbit-ears knot and removing the layer of paper. Inside there is a manila envelope with red bloody fingerprints over it and his left eye picked up the DNA and finger print traces correlates with the missing persons rumored to be sacrificed for the crimson queen. In side the manila there is three sheets of blood stained documents, the first detailing a final errand with the other pages adding detail to the one before.

After taking the documents with him he killed off the men besides the table, with hands that envelop their head faster than they can react. Twisting motion that rendered their head apart from their necks. As they too are part of another errand, an errand from the hotshots, outside a car is waiting. He walks out the deli with a sandwich hanging on his jaw, looking up at the skies but seeing blurs covered by the rooftops on the building sides. Fowler climbed to the building behind and decided to follow.

His eyes extend to everybody less than five feet of height; his ears extend to almost every woman with shed clothing, his mouth extends to every disgruntled member of a gang outfit sick of their superior's inadequacies.

Mouths at the Cardinal Shrine

Through various media outlets the cardinals stationed elsewhere tune in to their crimson queen, hidden cameras kept by lower ranked members with access. The Underlings operating within the chains of undying loyalty alongside others with questioning treason hidden behind a mask of false admiration ranging from zealots, fanatics and all round yay sayers. Unpleasantness in general with several cases of debauchery and one significant prolicide.

Ears at the Gang Meeting

little eyes behind the bleachers peer into the meeting Johnny G sucking off the teat of old money and established history, J Mines and his gang of crazies, lastly there is stan sharp like a bastard son from the old spaghetti westerns given breath to stay in this century. All pastiches of various stereotypes who once drawn their turfs into the map, now each of them are hanging on that last piece of pie they had left. New completion is in town, one in the form of a malevolent religion bumping off competition and a masked benefactor with more men. Easy to say that the triad of powers followed this figurehead with the last ounce of testosterone that just leaked out their scrotum, they comply at behest of impotent rage because necessity is calling the shots. Most of their men are sickened by their cowardice and some have even started their own chaos, attacking outsiders entering their city with wanton suicidal hatred. Like rats attacking cats without knowledge of who is the predator and who is the prey. Obviously Fowler took into account that some of them would be to rowdy to control, with excessive screening done months earlier he has differentiated which of them gets an enhancer and which of them gets the placebo. Difference being that the placebo only gives false courage that disappears in the face of death, those receiving the real supplement will know when to strike. A signal will be declared, they will simply know as they now wait in preparation. Meanwhile rampant backstabbing is in order both in metaphorical and literal senses, as this city burns like rome once did.

Eyes at the Cardinal Island

The people run in all directions to follow wherever panic guides them, it was pandemonium as policemen who are supposed to be the bastion of order collapse against one another. Good men drowned by the blade of cultists, and odd men seemingly turning towards their allies in fits of rage. While the panicking masses became both victims and murder weapons of the cultists using their feet as crushing implements fueled by confusion. There was a man dancing in the midst of carnage, and he was controlling the flow of the dance floor. The blood is his own rhythm and his bullets make for the footwork of the intricate styles. Awe and shock reverberated through the city blocks as the informants keep a low profile, because some of them had died because of stray bullets from the confrontation. But he's clashing with another individual, clad in armor.

Sightings of numerous enigmatic figures have emerged across the city, their appearance more frightening than the cultists. There have been about only one barely successful photograph of them in motion, many have been sent but all of them are systematically eliminated to uphold secrecy. The only existing picture show a blurred shadow that is even more distorted than the big foot photos studied by the crypto zoologist up to this day. When this is all over these figures will remain at the edge of the mind, existing as nightmares and cautionary tales for children in times to come. Some of the men under Fowler's influence had fallen under six feet under, dropping faster than the rain.

As if the situation couldn't escalate there are four volatile divas on their own angles of opinion tearing their way through towards the center and a jailbreak somewhere in the city. Fowler ponders why nobody decides to evacuate with the hints and foresight provided by the place. Its like trying to piece together the apocalypse and presenting it in the form of an urban environment.

Then:

"Do you think she'll survive?" the distinctive voice of Angelique LeBeau asked dripping with a venomous lack of empathy, her arms crossed as she leaned against the exterior of the wooden lined stone frame of Cassidy's door as she slept. Her question activating the curiosity of her brother as he turned to look at her before returning his concentration back to the sleeping youngster. His facial features almost the mirror image of his father, all though unshaven, he carried himself with an elevated sense of pride and confidence, the same as his sister. "Of course she will" he smiled, removing the unlit matchstick from his mouth. "She has to, she's LeBeau now." Turning away as he made his exit, leaving one half of the LeBeau Legacies behind to stew in her building jealous towards the latest edition. "Psst, not LeBeau, not while I still draw breath." she hissed.

Now:

The destructive detonation discharged with disturbingly violent force. Hurling chunks of separated asphalt in varying sizes and shapes chaotically cascading the area with debris and shrapnel. Yet the hulking assassin did not move, nor did he flinch as he was peppered with fragments. Immediately the Ronin Assassin was on the offensive. Transitioning from her opening assault into a close quarter hand to hand offensive maneuvering with swan like grace unsheathing her blade and striking in a singular motion of methodical precision. Her leg following close behind angling to sweep Florian to the pavement.

However the first born son of Esther and Jean actuated with accelerated speed and agility simultaneously sweeping away the bladed attack with a downward deflection while lifting his leg allowing the Dark Huntress' to flow unabated underneath it. Displaying the full cinematic piece de resistance of arrogance refusing to turn around as Cassidy ended up at his back. Her speech doing little to shaking his resolve. "You are right.......Little Raven, dhere is a storm coming......but......it does not come for me...." he responded.

Whirling around with unmitigated agility taking two giant steps forward before firing a thunderous front kick aimed for his opponents midsection. Perpetuated enough force behind it to shatter concrete yet coupling it with the speed of a viper. Urgently following it with a furious frenzy of bone crushing uppercutting combinations targeting her ribs and kidneys.

Without pause or hesitation the volley continued. Optimally perfected Muay Thai elbows began to slice through the down pouring rain altering back and forth between left and right. His pace quickening as he spun around in a 180 firing off a reverse thrust kick again targeting the midsection. No weapons, no quarter, no mercy. Florian continued to rampage using only his hands and feet at an unbelievable pace.

Then:

Her footsteps pitter-pattered across the cool mahogany of Jean's study. He stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows with his hands clasped behind his back as he watched Angelique sparring with several select members of the League. They were the respective ages of thirteen and eleven and their rivalry had begun it's full bloom. Clad in the traditional training garb of the Order, Cass mimicked Jean's stance, her hands clasped firmly behind her back as she tracked Angelique's perfect movements. The two stood in silence before the adopted LeBeau seized holding her tongue. "She's better than me."

Jean didn't spare her a glance as he continued studiously spectating his daughter. "Stop judging your own accomplishments by dee accomplishments of others, chere. Look to yourself."

Narrowing her eyes, she caught site of Florian watching from the sidelines, apparent to the two from their slightly elevated position in the Chateau, but blind to Angelique's furious concentration. Her eyes met Florian's for one brief moment as he sensed the two spectators and a true smile crossed his face as Cass saluted him before leaning against the glass and turning slightly towards Jean. "I'm going to be the best one day. Better than everybody else. I'm going to make you proud."

Now:

"Do you forget all of your studies and everything you've ever learned? A storm is a force of nature, an unstoppable element. I'm the deluge that's been opened upon your head, you just haven't learned that particular lesson." All ceremony was gone now, they had made it to the nitty gritty of their cat and mouse game - pure, physical fighting. A ruthless brawl with no prisoners taken.

He was the lethal combination of a forceful brick with the eloquent agility of one with martial arts prowess. Cassidy was skilled, but she wasn't superhuman. The first blow landed on her mid-section. It would have broken her ribs if not for the corset that was so much more than a pretty piece of clothing; it was also functional body armor. Nonetheless, her entire mid-section was sore and several internal organs felt as if they had been rest out of place.

It had landed her on her back on the pavement, all wind knocked out of her. The second that she was back up, the assault continued, one after another after another. She managed to duck and dodge using her ample agility, but there came a point where she wasn't fast enough and he was waiting for her. An uppercut to the chin followed by a kick to the mid-section caused her to back-step about five feet to result from losing her balance and being knocked over.

It felt as if a truck had run over her mid-section and her entire body was bruised and sore. Turning her head to the side, she spit a mouthful of blood out into the streams of water that were coasting down the street. Narrowing her eyes, the Redheaded Ravager focused all of her attention on the man who had once been a friend and compatriot in childhood and who somewhere along the way had been corrupted to the core of his being.

Reaching up to her collar, she stroked the button that held the cloak clasped together before flicking it undone with skilled fingers in one quick motion. Grasping the edges of the cloak in both hands, it was held over and around her in a capelike manner as she utilized it for cover. In a mad dash towards her rage-maddened brother, she spun the cloak around her to disorient him and once she was close enough, attempted to wrap it around his head in an attempt to disorient and daze him.

Cutting in close, she aimed an elbow straight for his chin with the added touch of telekinesis to aptly amp the strength. If she got the angle correct, there was a chance that it would sever his spinal column. Her next tactic was to attack the weak areas. Spearing her fingers together, she went for three quick jabs, the ribs, the clavicle, the neck before darting away, light on her feet and in a manner akin to a boxer.

Staying on the balls of her feet, her soaked hair now slicked against her face, a feral growl escaped her lips. Charging Florian with all the speed and with the strength of a small truck as applied by her telekinesis, she launched herself at him in an attempt to bring him down and disable him.

Regional news coverage had been steadily monitoring and reporting on the increasing dangerous situation unfolding inside the city of Grimm. Mounting concern had forced the United States government into action, deploying the national guard outside the city limits on stand by while in Washington D.C. Congressional meetings were being held to discuss the implementation of the United States military. Martial law had been declared do to the chaotic maelstrom enabling the cities residents from leaving, instead they were forced to barricade themselves inside their homes, shops, storage units, and warehouses. Anywhere was safer then out on the streets as the religiously based group of Cardinals swarmed the city. Indoctrinated in the philosophy of spiritual combat and loyal beyond comparison, they would run through a wall or straight into certain death for their cantankerous cleric, Z.

For days the Aristocratic Assassin had focused his entire attention on the news coverage while analytically weighing his options. Carefully cataloging a menagerie of methodically prepared projections for a platform of actions that would see an end put to the rising cult like foundation that had rapidly elevated itself up to the Worlds most dangerous sect of acolytes, the Red Cardinals. Information was limited do to its clandestine nature and its intelligently strategical leadership paradigm. It wasnt simply a question of whether or not to get involved, he had made that mistake once before. Turning his back on the potential threat the Ninjan Queen had posed resulting in the destruction of the Order of Sancta Camisa and barely avoided the destruction of the World. He would not fall to the depths of that type of failure again.

Dressed in his traditional ceremonial all black vibranuim woven mirco-fiber combat body suit, stylized after the feudal era Japanese ninja, the Black Fang advanced outside towards the LoS landing bad flanked by an entourage of similarly dressed assassins. Each one carrying their swords horizontially strapped to their waist in a visually unorthodox manner paying homage to the Order of Arashikage. Confident strides advanced their prestigious progress in a scene of regal demeanor, shoulders straight, heads high, fear absent. With a simple twirl of his finger the helicopter blades were engaged by the pilot, lifting the customized aerial bird off the ground. Its destination, Grimm City.

Several hours later the League had arrived hovering over one of Grimm City's highrise office buildings. Simultaneously a series of black Kernmantle braided style Technora Aramid cordlines flailed out from the chopper supporting the descending League as they gracefully rappelled down. Almost instantly the poison of the city was upon them in the form mindless mayhem produced by the lack of stability in the city. Everything and everyone was a threat, especially outsiders. Gunshots rang out dropping two assassins where they stood before in unison the remaining death dealers circled around their leader as they rapidly made their way to the buildings stairway. Immediately they were engaged by a mob of out of control rioters forcing them to fight their way down and out of the building with feverish ferocity.

A light tap on Jean's shoulder directed him towards an artificially created landmark in several of the nearby buildings foundations. A landmark that was instantly recognizable as the symbol of the Order of Sancta Camisa. "She is here" he spoke with empathy. But she would have to wait as the real theats origin was just on the other side of the bridge, South Cardinal island. Their sanctimonious markings labeled the outside of the foundation that had housed Z's resurrection but her minions had complete control of the island all but making infiltration impossible for a normal human, but Jean was anything but normal. "Wait for me here" he ordered before stealthy employing his superhuman ability of espionage and escape.

Slipping across the bridge and eventually into the structure he began to investigate. The bulk of the Cardinal regime were gone leaving behind just a few entranced minions sitting cross legged lightly humming around the Lazurus pit. Its gases releasing a think and steady flow of steam and mist as it gurgled and bubbles popped. Sliding through the installation in a crouched position his progress was stopped as he began to come across bits and pieces of human remains. A wooden pipe rested next to a torn torso, its intestines unrivaled beside it. Disbelief washed over the Cajun's face as he slowly picked up the musical instrument that had once belonged to his estranged son. "No.....no no, not like dis....a LeBeau deserve a better death dhen dis" he whispered softly to himself. His fist clenched tightly around the flute as his head lowered in quit rage, a single crimson stained tear trickling down the side of his face.

45 minutes ago

Standing from the table as the last of the crews had fanned out the Devil of the Grimm underworld commands the electric discharge in the air above, the thunder growing steadily closer, the cracks of lightning appearing brighter with the thunder's rumbling bellowing directly after, Dark brown iris's and clear white conjunctiva slowly filling with a red neon glow as he turns his neck sharply looking back at Sin fong holding an E-med* (Enhanced Meta Energy Detector)"Find them and report back-immediately" She nods with her head slightly bowed, dark chestnut eyes attempting best to lock with his void crimson ones. A streak of lightning destroys the reinforced glass dome, the harpooning vermilion bolt retracts into the dark clouds in less than a millisecond, taking it's commander with it. Tender drops fall for a moment, until an entire blank falls in seemingly choreographed unison over the city, as though a flood gate had been opened in the heavens. Sin Fong stands back looking up at the sky in the translucent roof, and whispers lightly before turning towards the rear exit, "Jesus wept...."

35 minutes ago

As the black limousine stops across the conjoining bridge between what is now called Cardinal Island and Midtown, Johnny Gaetano feels an unfamiliar chill up his spine, something foreign and foreboding; FEAR. "You two knuckle heads, go with the rest of the boys into the Isle of misfits and take care of things, I'm going to go wait this out in the high rise on the west side, I don't need dis shid" The two give him a nod behind Gucci sunglasses and step out on the bridge, hopping in a reinforced pick up and driving slowly into the dying smoking island. "Less go..." He says casually, yet the car stays in place, "Come on damn it move before I string ya up from this fckin bridge myself!" Still the drive sits incredibly still in the front. the mass of red hooded cardinals now running and leaping across the desolate steel wired path of abandoned cars and bikes. Johnny now enraged and fearful, climbs up to the privacy partition and begins banging his fist against the window and kicking the back of the drivers seat, "Go go go go you stupid-?!" He watches as the head of the driver rolls into his own lap, his neck smoking with singe marks on the rim.

"The fuck, the fuck the fuck.." He says while flipping open a seat cover to reveal a case with a custom cut shotgun inside, frantically loading the shells into the chamber. a sudden thump and the sound of bending sheet metal causes him to drop the first round, sweating now with his greasy hair dangling in chunks over his pudgy face the, the morbidly obese mobster reaches down unable to grab it from between the seats.

The roof begins to spark within, landing on Johnny's bacon fat back as he's too scared to look up. The metal ebgins to tear by itself in all directions in jagged triangles, until a caramel face pokes forward smiling like a child unwrapping his gift. "Therrrrrree's...johnny!" He sticks his hand inside the hole and mentally closes the edges around his arm like a reverse still motion of an opening flower, letting loose countless blasts of plasma out of his hands, laughing loudly as the smell of burning flesh rises witht hesounds of please of mercy, "*snff snff* Mmmm...beggin strips" A bedeviled chuckle leaving his broad chest

A group of duplicates , four counted, appear next to him in a row moving in unison, "Hey hey it's Flucks, found hi found him found him! boss man sent me to protect ya...ok me and Gimmie, but still! hehehe " The cackling villain he knew scarcely from the recently formed team of diabolical terrors located in Paradise led by the devil of devils, Sicarius. the two demons well know to the team's general. His smile dissipates as the kingpin killer rolls his eyes and looks upto the down pour and shouts over it, "Everything I do has a reason... Sicarius shoulda knew better by now... where is he ?" He hops off the cars roof and stands in front of the three rubbing his chin as Mujin gives him the information. "Aight, I can work with this. Mr. Ten, take your brothers here and go search for serinity, I know if Vic brought you along he must have brought the others. Bring her back here, you'll both know where to go when it happens." The dupes salute him insultingly and dash off in all directions as the fluctuating methodologist stand in front of the two demons, "You two... I got something special for you to do."

Now

A bolt of lightning smacks the roof of Goody tower as the Vermilion king lands atop the falling rubble of plaster. Sicarius stands with two Cardinals walking towards the center of the converted penthouse, one loyal assassin ahead of he and Joan,, one behind. Flucks walks forward with speed towards them, though not even sprinting. As he moves forward the two gaurds come forward gripping blades, "It's done there's no need for the act anymore" They look at one another simultaneously before looking back at him while sheathing their half exposed katanas, a fist on their chest as their heads bow. He noticed the slightly enigmatic look on Sicarius' face, "Apologies, my friend. for this to work nobody but us could know. Lets- " A click sounds off in his ear, his subordinate Sin Fong's soft voice pours out in a whisper, "Sir...*Sounds of leather smacking skin in the rain* They have been located...The center of Columbia Point. " He smirks while pressing his ear lobe, "Excellent work Sin, I've got something for you after this." He releases himself and looks at the two, shaking sicarius' hand, "Answers are coming my friend." He says to his kin in murder and F.E.A.R. The three finally enter two swinging doors, to find the Head Black Cardinal, not in body but in spirit, sitting in a wooden chair, ironically one only meant for church Cardinals.

"Madam Cardinal... I think it's time I repayed my debt" He kisses her backhand gently, "Impeccable work with Still and and Mines. They failed to get Gaetano but... it wasn't an issue" He turns away from her and back to Sicarius and the group and nods, knowing they were all due for answer if they were to be beneficial later "We both had an agreement. She would help me take control of the rest of the city...If I handed her a gift. Jovik Mujin, do me a favor and save me some breath, link with your brothers and they'll fill you in " They stand with their chins up and staring blankly for a moment, then look to one another and back at sicarius, who dismisses them with a flick of his wrist. The two dissapear out the window of either side of the building, heading towards upper midtown and lower downtown.

A long fingered brown hand rests on Sicarius' shoulder, "We could use a lift to the center of Columbia point, The location is on the front of my mind" He says tapping on his own forehead. As the black cardinal arises and crosses from behind her throne to join the others.

After crossing through the shadow realm, a place no man dare tread without the master of it's power, they all stand directly across from Florian and the Lockharts' Dark Legacy. Flucks walks to the center of the two... then steps beside Florian, "Well done my man, well done. You said she had a temper when it came to you but, aheh...damn" Explosions sound off from all directions, almost remaining un-heard over the boastful thunder. The demon had blown the surrounding bridges into thick clouds of white powder and rubble, mortar strewn chaotically across the city. Phone lines were down because of the storm, the power plant was on Cardinal Island, and the only reserves for food in emergencies...were locked in the bunker beneath the former Spiritual leader and Father of Crimes Reverand Goody's Tower.

The thugs all stop, their fear over powering their adrenaline. They all turn to the one man that was still left standing with any sign of power, coming in closer to circle the Cardinal Queen and the Telekinetic huntress. "Get in tight boys... this is a show you only see once!...Thunderdome law! two enter, One leaves!" A cheering and screaming sounds from the ground of maniacs and sociopaths. The knew the street law, neither can leave the ring until one was a tear drop in the rain.

Enjoying the serenity of the silence plaguing his throne room, enigmatic Impero remains seated, assured of his Reapers' success in Grimm City. In the meantime, he allows his lieutenant, Aisha Omar, to viciously extract valuable information from the several witches helplessly restrained in his magic-nullifying prisons, while he tends to matters he considers far more important, more political. Abruptly, one of the cunning puppeteer's most valuable cronies enters his throne room. "Ah, you have returned", The Genius calmly pointed out, the Death Reaper had returned, the leader of nefarious Impero's most elite forces. "Yes. And I come with information about your plan for Portugal", the Death Reaper revealed, kneeling before his absolute master. "You may elaborate", aristocratic Impero allowed, calmly anticipating a most fruitful conversation with the Death Reaper. "The success of the sleeper agents you used, it's working. Most of the Portuguese citizens have already started recommending us to exterminate them. But it's not enough. It-", however, before the deadly assassin could finish his sentence, he was interrupted, "Of course it's not enough", Impero chuckled nonchalantly, "But this is only the beginning. The finishing touches to my plan are slowly being used", he continued, "It will not only be a country under our control. This is only the beginning to a fearsome empire", Impero promised, before dismissing his subordinate.

Soon his mind began wandering to thoughts regarding his plans in Grimm City, particularly involving his fiancee Clarice and former ally, Flucks. While this resurrection that his Reapers had learned of was indeed a point of interest, mysterious Impero had more pressing matters to focus on, and Clarice was unknowingly the catalyst of his upcoming plan. "This will be a most interesting opportunity. Both Flucks and Clarice are drawn to power... this plan will benefit me well should they accept", the manipulative enigma smirked, facial expressions concealed by his eerie mask. Suddenly, his acute senses detected rhythmic footsteps from the hallway outside his lavishly decorated throne room. Walking into his throne room was none other than his most loyal subordinate, the lovely but deadly Aisha. "I presume you are here for a good reason", Impero stated, remaining calmly seated on his jewel-encrusted throne, his sitting position a characteristically classy and arrogant one. "Of course my lord", she assured, fearlessly approaching him, halting a mere four feet away from him. "The witches I was interrogating, they've told me everything. The whereabouts of these crystals you seek for an unlimited supply of clean energy, I know of them", Aisha smirked, confident in the factual information she had been fed. "Good, good. You impress me Aisha. It seems as though beauty is not your only peerless quality", cunning Impero compliments, rising from his throne, walking towards his lovely lieutenant, his feet stopping as their bodies stood mere inches from each other. "You have never failed me, sweetheart", The Genius compliments, gently stroking her cheek, his powerful alluring voice tantalizing her every desire. Aisha's infatuation with him a quintessential aspect of their relationship.

His strong arms wrapped around her waist, charming Impero awaits Aisha's reply, his foreboding yet drawing dark brown eyes locked with her mesmerizing emerald green eyes. "I'm unfamiliar with failure", Aisha teased with a wink, laying her hands on Impero's expressionless mask. Slowly lifting the mask just enough to see her unquestionable leader's lips. As Aisha leaned in, their lips a mere breath apart from each other before their soft tender lips locked in romantic embrace. As they broke the kiss, Aisha readjusted her leader's mask. "Did this mean anything to you? I mean, you're engaged.. but", Aisha asked, "Where does it leave us? Does Clarice mean anything to you?", the Witch-Hunter lieutenant asked. Impero however, answered her question in his characteristic fashion comprised of certainty and calmness. "My dear, let me clarify this now. Clarice is nothing more than a weapon. You however, are far more. You and I are now engaged", he promised, sliding a gold diamond ring into her finger, "And you will be my only queen", but of course Impero's words are always laced with deception, he cannot be trusted save for a select few, but who's to say that Aisha isn't one of those few. "I believe you", Aisha admitted before Impero pulled himself away from her. "I will see you soon, sweetheart. My presence is needed elsewhere", the cunning enigma responded, using the teleportation technology that his mask provides to disappear and re-materialize right in his fiancee's location. His hands confidently folded behind his back, the poised and composed enigma emerged from the shadows nearby as his Reapers quickly disappeared.

"Hello Ms. Zeraz. Looking as lovely as ever", The Genius complimented, standing behind the vivacious redhead. "I am here to accelerate my plans. You are an integral part of this objective", cryptic Impero paused before continuing, "I need you to locate Flucks. There is a deal I must strike with him, one that will benefit all of us". Soon Impero elaborated somewhat on his recent objective, "The power that you possess to bend reality to your will, it is the most powerful instrument that you can harness. And with my peerless intellect, you will be able to evolve them, provided you accept my offer", he stated, the development of Clarice's powers being an important aspect of the cunning puppeteer's deal that he aims to strike with Flucks. "After all, it will help you ascend to the Olympian throne which I believe has always been an objective of yours. The only obstacles in your path being Angeni", Impero pointed out before concluding, "But worry not. A child that lives by her mother's reputation poses no threat".

Not too far from the point of resurrection.

Idea’s and Viruses share common traits; in there base forms, they can be killed, squashed, terminated with the first sign of life. However; later on into development they become deadly; the non-stop spreading and mass outbreak usually caused wide spread panic and death.

By now the Black Cardinal Virus; could be seen starting to show upon the face; of many of her faithful; those whom came into contact with it would surely contract it. The Virus it’s self was a mystery; a combination of a simple cold virus in addition to a powerful cancer-like virus. She herself carried it as the Ninjan Queen, but her immunity to most viruses prevented it being prevalent in her.

Huge black boils formed on the hands and arms of her followers; their eye’s outlined with a black ring, and a heavy look of confusion befell them. She was pretty sure the virus; had been ‘planted’ deep within South Cardinal Island, now it was only a matter of time before it spread.

Internally, she wept for the death of her son; oddly enough, she wasn’t sure if it were her feelings or Y-intercept’s. She sat in a wooden rocking chair, slowly rocking herself into meditation; she neglected to see Joan and Sicarius enter the room. She didn’t speak, both of her minds worked slowly trying to focusing their attention solely on Sicarius. “There is a Snake in the grass…I pray you’re wearing long boots” the parable came from nowhere, and was directed towards seemingly no one; despite this she knew everyone understood what she meant.

Flucks spoke off privately with Sicarius; while the Cardinal Queen eyed Joan with some disgust. A few moments later she was in the middle of a circle; witnessing a seasonal battle between a Lebeau child and a Lockhart. Her diamond blue eyes began to stare past the battle, witnessing something more than just a battle. Just her presence attracted an influx of Cardinal Assassins all infected with the airborne disease; they’re only goal, to protect the Queen of Cardinals.

She sat with Y intercept’s blade resting in its sheath; slowly adjusting her face mask. She wondered what their goal for ridding her was? How can you rid the world of someone who is dangerous in death just as they are life?

Thunder could be heard rumbling in the turbulent clouds above; a battle took place in front of her; not to mention the Essence of Conflict; also known as Mikepool moving across the city spreading fear. In the short time she spent back; her two personalities had done a great job in trying to one up the other. Y intercept had made treaties with Z’s enemies; and Vice Versa; but the one they had both plotted for had not been present. “I’m done wasting my time…”

Pushing away from her seat; Z slowly pushed through the hordes of people leaving the site entirely. She smiled, which one? No one knew; the only thing that could be said about the Cardinal Queen was that she was indeed out of her mind.

“Peek-A-boo” she said, planting her right foot; in a turning lunge firing a kinetically charged sword shard towards the abdomen of Flucks. Repositioning her body; she unsheathed both of her blades and charged him.

With each cancerous step she took; the head of her Green Dragon and Black Rose blades; sparked against concrete illuminating her face just a bit; leaving her feet she pushed forward towards him and whomever he was near sending her kinetically charged sword shards petal dancing towards her traitorous foe.

Soon their night of conquest was met with the very met Victor had come to Grimm City for, Flucks made his debut and made a point to tell him of everything going on within the city. He stunk of filth as if he was around people who didn’t deserve to be around him. Victor stomached the churning inside and looked to Klovis who still had a Cardinal dangling from his hook. With a twitch of his wrist he gave the command “Get rid of him, and then take Joan home. She may think she is able to fight, but I do not wish to carry a body home. Is that understood?” He said looking to Joan. Victor was a man of power, but also unbecoming of a man of his status he had a heart. He did not wish for even the most meager of his kinsmen to perish, especially over turf he didnt have control over. Turning back to Klovis he spoke “I plan on meeting with Z herself, and by myself. If we are not careful we will lose this entire city.” He said the last part directing it more towards Flucks than anyone.

Taking Flucks aside Victor sensed a disturbance in the air around him, looking quickly he saw a blast of shards hurtling towards Flucks. With lightning quick reflexes he grabbed Flucks arms and spun him around, giving Victor’s back the full brunt of the attack. Wincing in pain his body could taste the power that was just launched at his kinsmen. Groaning loudly he looked to Flucks “Leave....now! Find the rest of our people, and meet me back here.” Tapping his foot a shadow opened behind Flucks “Go!” He wasn’t suggesting this he was giving Flucks a direct order. Turning back to Flucks his eyes narrowed in on Z walking through the crowd, her powers lashing out at anyone that came close enough to her. Victor held out his hand and it crackled with electricity his body going into full defensive posture he watched her. As she gained ground closer to him he shouted to her “We do not need to do this Ziccarra, there has got to be another choice.” He thurst his arm forward and let bolts of electricity come down all around Ziccarra, these bolts then formed a large circle around her. Trying to contain her for a brief moment he moved forward, his eyes never leaving her he came within inches of the wall of electricity. He looked at her “Please, do not do this. Yes my people have angered you, even killing some of your Cardinals. But what would you have had us do, you attack my people and attack Grimm City. What do you want?” He stepped through the wall and now was face to face with Ziccarra.

“I do not believe you are someone who prides themselves on petty actions, you can do more and better than Grimm City.” Victor was pulling the shadows given off from the bright electrical show he had made inwards around the two. Slowly the shadows ascended over both of them, if this discussion went sour and she tried to leave he would pull the shadows down. Bringing them and only the two of them into a dark hole. “Don’t you think more would come of ruling over something bigger, something I could provide you. I could provide you absolute Paradise, but only if you stop this attack.” He looked her dead in the eyes, knowing better to corner such a ferocious creature as the Queen of Ninjeta but it needed to be done. To protect Grimm City, he had to corner Ziccarra.

Airwalk

Gallantly striding amongst the roofs of buildings a second shadow follows the hooded ones in front, moving with such grace and tenacity that every building is passed as if he is taking footsteps. Steps that gradually transform unto a dash, all while maintaining fluidity in motion as his body adjusts itself with the environment that moves past him. In his perspective he is not moving forward at the cloaked gang, but the city itself is cutting their distance as the buildings that used to be in front of him position themselves ten steps behind. Fowler is practically flying through without flight itself, playing with his group by being not to far ahead yet not to far behind. Fowler's greatest weapon is not his enhancements nor his skills, but rather his anonymity. Something he'd used to move in the middle of the group, as if he never existed and that there is only air moving between them. He dances in the air with the pandemonium being his music and the hooded men being his backup dancers. His presence shielded by an aura of vagueness that defines him as a 'friend' in the heart of those he follow. In a similar way how a remora remora trails beside besides the jaws great of a shark without interference. So now he uses them to merge with the scenery, blending in with a pack of assassins. He goes wherever they go, knowing in his gut that they will lead him towards a place of interest. This phenomenon is recorded by Peregrine as the non-interference zone.

3 months ago

The plan is in motion, the foundations has been set roughly two months before after his reconnaissance. His skills aided with his women and children acting as his troops. But the problem now lies in gang members who simply know too much, or men who are too bound to loyalty for their own good. Men who lived as loyal hounds, but died like street mongrel. The event took place on the blue zone, back when it was more relaxed then it is now. What had took place was just a routine cleaning outside the barbershop. A barbershop famous back in the 1920's when a sharp took care of a stool pigeon by slitting his throat. Ironically Fowler and three men stood behind the alleys discussing about the upcoming 'changes', roughly a minute after one those men had just shot dead a member of the quickdraw in their own turf. Next to Fowler is a short man with a moustache belonging to the Quickdraw gang, alongside with his pals a fatter man roughly 5'11 wearing a brown cowhide hat and another one with olive tan skin wearing old fashioned spurs behind his dress shoes. Two of them still shocked at disbelief that the short man killed his own partner whom they once regard as brother.

The corpse used to be a man who was kneeling with a black bag over his head, who also had difficulty fighting back because his wrists were handcuffed together. Loose ends has to be severed and this man was a poor bastard at the wrong place on the wrong time. His holster ripped open and his trusty six-shooter is crushed beyond recognition, that is the weapon of the man that put up a fight before his death. Skillfully gunning down five of his assailants before his spine was fractured by Fowler. There is not much that can be done when a finger is inserted to the base of the spine, especially at high velocities that it gave the impression of a man struck with a jackhammer. The untreated wound lies between the Sacral and the Coccygeal which rendered a once brave cowboy into a paraplegic whelp. His name was Casey Cartwright, an enforcer for the gambling houses near the bridge interconnecting to the greed gang area because his job was to keep the crazies out, neatly-kempt brown hair with trickles of his own blood, blue eyes, weights about 170 pounds when Fowler carried him from the inside of the gambling house to the alleys, a large man of six foot height which gave fowler a bit of a problem when carrying on the shoulder in terms of stealth, thirty six years old in his prime and this was a valued member as shown by his accurate marksmanship, but skills alone would get him nowhere in this age of supermen. His name was Casey Cartwright, the man that fowler had to kill.

"Boss, so far the snoops are sleeping under the asphalt" said arthur the short one. "Bob over there is still stuttering because I killed casey, but dylan will cheer him up because those spurs are always reliable' Fowler told them to call it a night. As they began to move there is a mysterious figure in the shadows, a specialist whom apparently witnessed something not meant for mortal eyes. Without any warnings two hands made contact with its head, the left clasping behind the head while the right compliments by cupping on the chin. Utilizing two way motion releasing the left to pull inwards then pushing the right simultaneously break as his neck recoiled, pushing the jaw to the side then snapping in the other direction. The Quick-draws are flabbergasted at the speed which it all took place "That's the fifth guy in this turf whom just had their neck snapped by yours truly" as fowler affirms. A claim made valid as the when the tall figure seemingly appeared behind the spy, turning a human being into a cadaver by a sleight of hand. The human example with his head dangling by a loose vertebrae.

The boys shudder in cold fear as they know who has the authority.After witnessing that they make their way out. They went into the barber shop and left through the main door, this act is nothing new as Fowler had been replacing key members and shuffling them around with others that can be bought. Same thing happened to the greed gang and the gaetano's, after they are killed the corpses are set up in an arrangement that the forensics show causes of death done by other gang members. Weapons are swapped at the scene of the crime, cops are taught to say given stories instead of truths, and the mob are buying it. At this stage Fowler is playing Jenga by taking out the competent members of the gangs. Giving a chance to the lower ranked members, letting them see perspectives from another's shoes while briefing them on tics on the other gangs. Giving them enough information to start a war , at the bait that they too can be mob boss with help of the drugs. Essentially purging those who are in too deep.

Now

Pandemonium is about to start at any moment when the time is right, explosives are rigged that will turn this city like iraq during occupation and england during the blitzkrieg. Grimm city is about to howl and mafias will be cooked tonight.

Her almond eyes winced at the sight of Sicarius jumping in between her attack and Flucks; despite the interruption her eye’s never left Flucks. The battle between both Mercy and Florian; drew the attention of the huge gathering, but there was a select few whom were attracted to the situation at hand. Victor spat something; however the Green Dragon or the Black Cardinal didn’t care to listen.

“Please, do not do this. Yes my people have angered you, even killing some of your Cardinals. But what would you have had us do; you attack my people and attack Grimm City. What do you want?” He asked, slowly closing the distance between her and him. Still she said nothing; one of her eye’s dialated shining a bright blue hue; whilst the other eye kept its dark brown texture. Her attention momentarily on the exiled Lebeau and his estranged adopted sister; their battle was indicative of how their family lived life; killing off the others for self-preservation.

When the airbourne virus begin to take affect; and everyone was forced to live in the narrow streets of Grimm City; self-preservation would become a way of life; she could only hope those watching saw the lesson in all of this.

“What separate’s myself from the likes of you...Mr….Victor was it?” she said, slowly pacing the electricity walls as if; she were some sort of caged lioness. The moment she saw and opening she did; simply lunging through the electricity; with her kinetically charged blade in hand she rolled to the outside; escaping his forced trap.

Steam could be seen slowly rising from her sizzling skin; her dirty blonde hair was now a bit frizzy; on top of that a small stream of blood poured from the crevice of her mouth. “I created the Trinity Cities, I gave the world paradise; I gave the world hope and I took it all away” she said, staggering to her feet. “You aren’t offering me anything, that I haven’t already tasted” she said, shifting her eye’s back over to both Florian and Mercy; though the two warriors had been fighting for an extended period of time; neither of them looked gassed. Each ready to continue their fight, Florian was well protected by his mask; he wouldn’t be affected by the virus. The amount of strength he poessed was amazing; at his size to be as agile as he was; was scary.

Cassidy was no push-over herself; Z had always heard her talk a big game, but this was the first time she had ever seen the Assassin Queen fight. She was eloquent; but rough; fragile yet impactful. The warrior spirit that burned deep within Z and Y wanted a piece of her but now wasn’t the time.

“I’ll consider your little offer…but I have business to handle” she said, kicking a manhole through the ground and exiting the scenes via the sewer system. The young night only got older; she moved towards midtown; with a whole host of Cardinals flowing her; she hope the sea of moving crimson attracted the stubborn Flucks attention once more.

Victory was nearly his defeat. The sense of accomplishment he had felt nearly gave the cardinal of the crypt her opening to his ending. He turns only in time to see the shard approach, watching like a deer in headlights, until a hefty pale arm grabs his shoulder and pulls him back, by the time he turns, Victor stands with protruding blades in his backside, "Leave....now! Find the rest of our people, and meet me back here, go!" He feels the shadow realm pull and call for him to enter, the outer rim of its sentient portal lapping at his heels. He pulls away from its dark affection, “If they don't know where to go, we need to rethink the roster.” The king steps forward as the two begin to converse, Victor pushing with strain through her onslaught, The callous cocaine cardinal showing small sign of weakness, a nose bleed, which only added confusion to the situation; No one had laid a hand on her. It seemed there was a more weighty battle going on within.

As she jumps out of the kinetic barrier with the form of a malleable hour glass, the fluctuating father of crime undoes his center waist coat button the coat dropping back to show his dual pistols of plasma dangle from their black leather holster. She boasts on in her inane insanity as he pulls them both from either side, four needles breaching his palms as blood trickles down waiting for the transparent vials to slowly fill with his energy. There was a clear opening as she turned her peripherals to the untamable Lebeau siblings.

It was almost admirable, the level of focus the two had on one another, the emotion of spite and anger that hung so prevalent between them like an unbreakable band of rubber, constantly pulling one into the violent embrace of the enemy in a dance of death. Honor, and vengeance *fffffyyyiiizzz, fffyyyiiiz* the weapons had reached their capacity as the deceptively distracting Cardinal disappears into the foul underbelly of the city.

"Victor... for now until that b!tch is strung up from the tallest building in my city, consider me freelance" A bolt of lightning slams the ground as he crosses the pistols across his burgundy suited chest, transforming him into energy as he disappeared into the pouring sky, residual red bolts clashing above the arena of emotion.

Midtown

As he floats above sifting through clouds, he knew exactly where she was; the coordinated gaggle of red cardinals following behind her like the crimson train of queens robes.

The mass of energy that is Flucks flips in the air then dives downward with a trail of lightning in hot pursuit. As he hits the ground some twenty feet in front of her the twin pistols rise steadily as time slows to a crawl, his eyes ignited electric red, water dripping slowly from the tip of his nose and lips, "I see, you". Giving no time for preparation he fires three rounds of reinforced plastic casings of magma hot plasma towards her knee caps, then dashes sideways as though to run flat into the wall, instead running up its magnetic infrastructure twenty feet high, then jumping diagonally with both weapons trained on her as he fires off two more rounds aimed at her shoulders.

Victor watched as the swift vixen escaped his cage moments before she left the area. She was nothing short of amazing, her power to do anything she wished was almost intoxicating. Victor could of followed her but he knew full well if he was to get in her way again. She would never let him leave with his life, and he had plans for the disembodied Ziccarra. As he turned around to look at the city of Grimm he fell to his knees. His eyes widened as he coughed hard, spraying the ground beneath him with blood. Holding his gut he realized that even he was not immune to this virus Z had unleashed. His body was working in overdrive trying to stave off the virus, he knew that given time of rest his body would force the virus out. But now was not the time for rest, looking up he saw Cardinals all over the city. Taking down any who stood in their way, or infecting those who bowed to them. Victor stood with trembling palms and looked upon the city and those who wished to bring it to its knees.

Anger fueled within him as he finally let out a blood curdling War Cry, in an instant all the Cardinals who were nearby looked to him in confusion. Now the power inside him was refusing to be kept inside, his eyes burned red as his body fought with all its might against the virus that tried to break his spirits. “I am the King of Paradise!!!! And I will not be broken!!!” He charged the Cardinals bare handed and without a weapon. Crashing through the group he slammed fist after fist into Cardinal bodies, some simply bouncing off his attack and giving their own counters. Plunging swords and knives deep into his pale skin. Those who were not fast enough to guard against his onslaught found the brute strength more than they could bare, soon his arms were covered in blood and gore. The last few Cardinals unleashed a combined attack at Victor, only to be swallowed in a veil of darkness. Victor watched as they were dragged into the shadows, by long sharp tendrils and breathed a sigh of relief. Slowly he walked over to a group of civilians, looking them up an down they were some of the fighters. Fighting the Cardinals and there own people turned against them, they were warriors.

The punches and blood spilled on him by the Cardinals were pushing the Virus into over drive, with each touch they furthered the virus ability to spread through his body. Agony filled his body but he was far from done, rest came when this city was under Flucks control once again. Looking to the civilians he spoke both outloud and telepathically. Speaking with each and every single Grimm City civilian, he stood covered in his own blood and that of the Cardinals and spoke words truer than he had ever before. “People of Grimm City, you have been attacked by those who mean you nothing but pain. To make every life here as miserable as the last, but I promise you this. You take up arms, anything you can find and attack those who mean you harm....you will triumph this night. No more will you be filled with agony and pain, now you will feel the pride it is to be one of the great who live in this city. Now FIGHT!!!” All around him gangsters without leaders, bums without food, and simple city dwellers lifted their arms in a roar that mightier even that of Victors. All over the city, the civilians were fighting the Cardinals. A futile fight but they still fought, and Victor knew they all possibly could die but if this city fell he would rebuild it. Victor let out his own battle cry and ran into the fray tossing bolts of electricity every where, smiting those who would come against him. As he did he spoke with his entire team telepathically

“Those who still fight on, keep your distance from groups of these bastards. But keep on fighting, we will bring Grimm from its potential demise, and bring the Cardinals down!”

"Stop you can't go any further the five foot eleven soldier barked guarding the bridge. Behind him a single tank the rest was just the back of the military. They were more determined to contain the threat then to keep people from coming in. Vigilantes rushing in to help was nothing special or new to them, they could go on they supposed it was always that way. Heroes were praised because they thought about every life or at least such was the cliche. While the military was about the rest of the world. Desiray honestly liked their thinking more, or maybe that was Cain's way of thinking? It was becoming difficult to see the line between the possessed and the possessor. The current mind set however was though that if everyone was nuked in this scummy city would not it be more good then harm? Hell odds were the innocent would of been thankful to go down so lightly. Never the less Desiray was out to try and help this place. A hopeless quest urged on by the happy folk the model was boarding up with.

"I'm with the Justice League International I'm here to help." They were new, the dirty blond was met with basically a 'who'? Her badge on her right arm was also no serious help. So the vigilante who ever sense the S.I.B was a far more darker person then originally and somehow more rash. With a conscious thought her motorcycle revved a bit of water being kicked up as the wheels spun in place. The rain fell onto the black cycle and the biker suit she wore. The yellow cat eared help slid over her wet dome. "Piss poor introductions but names Spitfire and representing JLI I plan to do more then stand here." The soldier would of told her she just couldn't expect to much assistance, she never heard it however. A loud roar as she took off as fast as the bike could accelerate using the railings meant to keep cars from plummeting into the waters as her make shift road way.

Rain fell pushing away from her vision impossibly moved out of her way as she raced through the streets. Occasionally the bike riding along the building walls to avoid clusters of mobs. Where she needed to go truthfully Des didn't know, the speed demon was using a old gaming method. The guys with guns were a cue she was going the right way as were people running the opposite direction. The vixen of motion manipulating the bullets that tried to spill her blood. It was a special trick to behold a round fired at her riding along a vertical surface and instead nailed the thug who fired. Not bullet proof just not capable of hitting it was childs' play to her for the victims though it was a marvel. "You are such a p***y Des you could be offing them all." Cain remarked in her head just to tick her off.

"Shut it I refuse to kill relentlessly like you, your not the one to govern my every action." A mocking laugh echoed in her skull. "You made me want to rebel which made me join heroes. You made me come here on some unconscious level I know your argument shut the f*ck up." The laughing continued knowing just how right on that she was. Her resistance was comical to the evil spirit at best. The speeding and bullet dodging continued as she sought someone to place blame upon. Some catalyst to strike down, minutes past and that was when she saw her a woman of beauty and apocalyptic presence. The dark figure seamed to have next to nothing on chains dragging along the ground and spikes coming out, well lord only knew where they didn't jut out from.

"Serenity? Damn it I didn't think we would ever see her. Save the Qs we need to stop her. What she's doing I don't know but she certainly is no choir girl." Cain had some insight on the darker things being a dead evil spirit rumored to be the first killer on Earth. Des wouldn't complain with the information her abilities kicked in to push her motorcycle to a speed that made the engine glow a red hot. The metal components conducting to much heat. Two hundred, two twenty five two fifty and she leapt off the speeding two wheeler. Her feet landing impossibly soft and easy for such a blindingly fast departure. The bike collided with Serenity bursting into a rain of gears steel and plastic. The demon was ripped apart her entire half from the upper chest up looked like ground meat. Gore splashed along the ground, then the mess pulled towards the demon. Her body reforming "I have got to set some restraints for myself so that kind of blow has an effect little beauty." Serenity spoke unaffected it seamed despite three seconds ago looking like a Mortal Kombat victim.

Thirteen Minutes Later

Serenity smiled at her fallen prey, the fight was a reasonably good one but the daughter of Roxom was not any worse for ware. Meanwhile Spitfire lay on the ground her helmet in shatters blood caking her smooth face. From both legs and her left arm a thick black mist pored as if the shadows were piecing her severed limbs together. The rest of her that showed from cuts and wounds though was not recovering like her limbs. The flesh marked by ugly black sploches and blood oozing from porous in some places. Thick tired rings around the models eyes.

Serenity smiled kneeling so her voice could be heard in the communicator in the tooth. "Your Diva has been infected perhaps some more of you Justice people would like to come?" She was teasing, mocking, and comforting all in one the grim goddess calling out to this team in works. Satisfied the shadows consumed her bringing her to Flucks. His lightning tricks not hard to miss Serenity looking to the Cardinals that trailed Zicaarra like a parade. "This fight makes no sense to me but I can hold off these clowns if you need."

“I see you” he said, making his presence known. Victor’s electricity rendered her almost unable to fight; but she removed her Green Dragon blade anyway, hoping the demonic blade’s healing factor would treat some of her ailments. The demonic snake blade slowly twirled in the air with its own mind waiting for the bout. The moment he fired his first three rounds, the kinetically charged shards danced in front of her allowing the rounds to bounce off them as they protected their master. She followed him with her eyes as he soared high into the sky with his weapons still drawn.

He fired two more rounds, the first burst right through her skin, allowing the molten magma resting inside to sear her flesh. She managed to duck low and evade the other, but she couldn’t dismiss the feeling in her shoulder. “Damn it” she swore, trying to apply pressure to sooth her burning flesh. Pushing up to one knee, she located him not to far off.

Judging from the distance he placed between the two; she knew she had to get close. She assumed he wasn’t much of a martial artist, probably an assumption she would pay for but a distinctive observation. With her right arm currently injured there was little to nothing she could do. Kicking a trash can lining it with her explosive energy, she used it as a diversion to escape. Under the cover of the explosion she headed back towards Cardinal Island.

“Ready…my body…the time has come” she said, struggling to climb up an emergency escape ladder. There was widespread panic across the dark city, The Cardinals clash with any and every one in their wake, spreading a horrible disease that was going to kill off hundreds of people. As she ran from Flucks; she reached down on her Utility belt to see that the cure was still secure.

Victor, Florian and the leader of Dark Legacy Cassidy Starks; all on the same island only meant on thing; Gambler was near. Having taken responsibility for personally ending the legend known as Kurrent; Z figured it was finally time to end Jean Lebeau as well. With all the task she had yet to complete a new one suddenly reared its head; killing Flucks.

Resting her back on the wall of a chimney; she pulled out a radio; with members from the World Health Organization on standby. Removing a voice recorder; she played the recording of a doctor who was killed by the Cardinals, after they forced her to do it.

“It…’s worse than I thought… the disease is spreading at an alarming rate; the only choice we have…is to quarantine Grimm City”.

The grit nature of the recording was all that was needed to further her plan. On force of will she pulled herself off the chimney and slowly began to climb the chimney. Dropping down the long shaft; she landed directly under the point of resurrection; the Lazarus Pit.

Z stood behind her body as it was suspended above the Lazarus Pit; the Cardinals positioned themselves around her in the shape of an inverted pentagram; chanting an occult hymn.

“Bright lady, whose name I speak; I call you down, it's you I seek. Capture my soul, my heart and mind. Make me yours for all time. Laughing Lord, her other side, join with her, who is your bride. You are my fire and my flame; I seek to know you and your name. Your strength will guide us in all we do. The words we speak will be of you. Our hearts are open, and filled with love as we bid you enter from above”

The rain began to downpour on the outside resulting in almost murderous lightning strikes; the pit began to bubble and steam violently. “Now, behold the evil now back from the dead…”

The Ninjan Queen jumped into the pit; the high concentration of supernatural energy separated her from Y intercept; placing Y back in control of her own body and Z back in hers. The moment Z rose from the pit she was dripping naked with her long hair plastered to her skin.

“Kill her” she said, pointing towards Y intercept; The Cardinals swarmed the Cocaine Goddess, and nailed her to a cross. “How fitting for the death of the devil…” she said, putting a bullet through Y’s head.

“I want the perimeter searched, Kill Flucks on sight…but bring Gambler to me…” she said, wincing. “Miss, you better get off that island…the military is on the way to destroy those bridges…Miss? Miss?” she heard the WHO messaging over the radio. “Miss?!”

Instantly the assassin's head and neck snapped back as Cassidy's telekinetically substituted elbow arced upwards underneath his chin staggering the oversize LeBeau backwards as she quickly instituted her cloak in her efforts to momentarily disrupt his vision. Flashing three choreographed strikes with analytical precison to his ribs, clavicle, and neck with an extended two finger technique penetrating Florian's light kevlar military harness, yet sufficiently diminished due to his overwhelming body to muscle mass index. Sliding back just enough to build up the necessary speed for a charging frontal assault, driving her shoulder deep into his midsection once again aided by her telekinetic prowess fracturing his unstable ribs as she took him down against the wet unforgiving pavement.

However despite the rapid succession of strikes and the capitalization of her final charge, the LeBeau Outcast had lost neither his wits not composure as he used the Dark Legacy Matriarchs own momentum to role end over end securing a dominant mounted position. Immediately instituting a vicious "ground and pound" utilizing forceful elbows strikes while occasionally raising up just enough to obtain substantial leverage in order to drop a series of right and left haymakers with disturbing violence.

Without hesitation Florian quickly attempted to isolate the former LeBeau protege's arm by placing his right hand in the middle of her chest while swinging his left arm around the extended right arm of his opponent planting his hands over top of one another. Simultaneously he hopped into a crouched position stepping over her head with his left foot and sitting backwards pulling her arm with him, arching his hips just a few inches off the ground trying to brake the appendage.

Elsewhere the carnage of the fallen city had turned critical forcing the Government and regulating officials to consider abandoning the lost city, preparing to implement standard security protocols. While inside the Cardinal stronghold the Aristocratic Assassin remained hidden as the resurection of the Ninjan Queen was underway. Watching in disbelief as his former love returned to her newly acquired body with a renewed sense of murderous intent. Her first victim, Y for Intercept. Unceremoniously hung upon a cross before a single bullet was put through her head causing her eyes to crisscross.

Her death offering little solace for the assassin who still hungered for revenge against those how had manipulated, used, and murdered his youngest. But as the room begin to spin and his vision blurred the acrobatic matrix's body began to show the first sign so exposure, though he did not know it, his entire system was under attack from the inside. Barely able to stand the self-proclaimed King of Kings offered little resistance against the small contingent of Cardinals tasked with bringing him before their Si-Fu(master).

Having thrown a lazy jab that somehow landed with little accomplishment he was quickly subdued before being dragged off to face judgment at the hands of the Black Cardinal.

Current Time

Laid flat on her back, Florian astride her, there was only so much that she could do to avoid the barrage of fists. Acting with a potent combination of instincts, fear and skill, the young assassin managed to get her arms around her head and her elbows blocked in front of her face to avoid most of the damage. However when facing an opponent so much larger and one who was such an unstoppable juggernaut of kinetic movement, there were punches that got through, rattling her brain slightly.

Refusing to whimper or utter a single noise indicating the pain she was in and struggle she was having against him, Cassidy tried to flail and attempted to bring a knee up and grind it into the most vulnerable of parts on the male body. It was following that point that he maneuvered her arm and shoulder joint into such a position that it was torqued in the most unnatural of ways. The ripping and snapping of tendons in her left arm was quickly followed by the snap of a bone cracking. The agonizing pain was too much for her and a tormented wail similar to the sound of an injured animal left her mouth and echoed through the night as rain continued to pour down around them.

Silent tears poured down her face as if felt like her arm was being ripped off, which, if this continued, it likely would be. Instinctively she reached out through the telepathic link that had been established between herself and her best friend, Claire Swanepoel, the world's foremost telepath and charmingly captivating Enchantress. There was a small swelling of her mind as Claire flawlessly entered it in an attempt to ease Cassidy's anguish, but what was found there was something else entirely. Her mind screamed out in mental anguish as she momentarily appeared dead to the world, suddenly going completely silent as a buried memory was unlocked through the clever machinations of Claire.

A Long Time Ago, In A Land Far, Far Away (Approximately 9 Years Ago)

Florian and Cassidy at the ripe old ages of 13 and 15 had been training with the League, with Gambler and with the world's foremost experts in every form of armed and unarmed combat for the majority of their lives. They were dedicated, but unlike Angelique, they enjoyed fun and divergences from the strict routine that had been placed upon them. On this afternoon they had fled from the training ground with the League tutors and gone off on an exploration excursion into the Northeastern woods.

It had been three hours of exploration and getting turned around before they realized that they didn't care how lost they were, it was just a literal breath of fresh air. The sun was beginning to set behind the fluorescent reds, oranges and yellows of the turning foliage, making them appear as if they were on fire. Just as the renegade twosome began tracking their way back to the League grounds, a group of five League ninjas came at them from the branches of the trees in yet another lesson.

Back to back, the young pair took them on methodically, working in perfect tandem - two parts of one whole. They'd trained together for over five years and knew each other's movements like the best of partners. It took them eleven minutes and twenty-seven seconds to dispatch of those that were sent after them. Sustaining only small injuries, the two sat together beneath an overgrown Oak tree. Grabbing a small, thin branch from the birch tree next to them, Florian handed one to Cass as he took one for himself. "Snap it and then suck on it. It tastes exactly like root beer." Tentatively she did so, allowing herself a rare moment of relaxed joy in a life full of training and turmoil.

"The sun will never shine so brightly as it has today." Cautiously she sucked on the small branch, surprised to find that it did indeed taste exactly like root beer. Shutting her eyes, she focused only on the sensation of the light-hearted fun that an adventure with her best friend had brought.

Current Time

Coming back into her own mind she was completely out of it. That memory was only the first in a trickling river of memories that began flowing back into her mind courtesy of Claire. Gleaning moments of a tumultuous childhood that had been happy, moments filled with the more carefree boy who had become her best friend; a pair who were as thick as thieves. Memories of their excursions, adventures and rebellions. A painful and incredibly hazy memory of Angelique watching them unseen from the dark, a small energy signature emanating from her fingertips as she held them to her temples and then nothing but blankness after that.

Her sea green eyes snapped open as she realized that Florian still had a hold of her arm, wrenching it further and further in her shoulder socket until it was broken and shattered in his hands, the tendons screaming with a burning pain. Turning her head so that her cheek lay sideways against the ground, mud and dirt smeared on her face and mixed with her anguished tears. Tears that were now not just for physical pain, but for emotional pain as her calculating mind began figuring out the blank spots that were beginning to pop up, as well as the complete personality change in Florian.

"Stop! God, please, stop it!" The pain robbed her of the ability to articulate herself and try and reason with him, her voice coming out a terrorized rasp. 'THE SUN WILL NEVER SHINE SO BRIGHTLY AS IT HAS TODAY!" It was her last hope as the simultaneous bliss and terror of unconsciousness began to encroach on the edge of her vision.

"Flop-flop-flop" Helicopter blades sputter overhead as the sultry young assistant walks down the boulevards of Midtown clad in a black costume with a partially covering mask exposing her tight jawline. The copters move in a v pattern towards the entrance to uptown, in a direct b-line for the dual bridges joining the islands. Several other groups of aircraft continue on the same mission heading for all entry ways to the city.

An old couple steps by her, the husband coughing feverishly into his palm, as he passes she notices a mix of tar and blood pooled in his hands' center. A little boy holds his mother in his arms as her veins turn black, her breathing shallow. The boy has a greyish tint to the whites of his no longer innocent eyes. the rain drenches the city in a sheet of stinking rain, evaporated from the foul waters surrounding the city.

Suddenly she pauses looking at a t.v. screen through a shop window. It was the acting President of the U.S. bottom line reading .Grimm City Quarantine procedure.'.

"Move B!tch!" A lone greed gang clad thug throws a plant of wood at the window, jumping inside and running past the t.v.s to the register, and stealing every cable in the store. She ignores the lowly filth and listens to the now uninhibited news with her thumb eyes locked undivided on the screen

"Ehh,My fellow Americans. First off, I'd like tooo, say how truly sorry I am for those within the city, and let them know they should not give up hope. We are working around the clock to ensure your safety. But first we must ensure the worlds. We have with the help of the World Health Organization, set up perimeters on every point within and out of the city. The bridges have been...dismantled. We've been experimenting with a secret new substance, that we have now formed and hardened...into an air tight, quarantine wall. This polymer will reseal itself if their are any breaches, as well as burn any contagions that touch it, and expel antibodies. Now, we have no idea how this disease functions. As far as we know it's unlike anything on earth." He says looking around the room, implying the possibility of failure with a cold stare. "But we will put forth the best efforts, we will do everything humanly possible to save, those, Lives!!!" The crowd starts a hopeful uproar from the inspiring speech, it would have undoubtedly been one for the history books... if only he din't forget he was wearing a mini microphone, "Those fckers are dead already"

Sin effortlessly cuts the mans throat and heads for the tunnels to bailey manor. It was time to prepare for the worst.

TO BE CONTINUED