Wrath of the Syndicate

A wicked organization known as the Vine Syndicate has unleashed their first global event. The group is using mind control all over the world to manipulate people into doing whatever they want. While most of the public is under the control a few others have been able to elude the effects of the mind control.

Using extremely advance pheromones, chemicals excreted by all life to provide communication, the Syndicate was able to manipulate minds. While humans have a weak sense of smell their sense still triggers the basic sections of the brain. If the pheromones are powerful enough they may be able to activate or deactivate certain areas of the brain. The Vine Syndicate has been able to manufacture a pheromone that deactivates the part of the brain they want, the cerebral cortex. With the cerebral cortex under their control the victims are unable to make choices on their own and will follow any order given to them.

In certain parts of the world there are several large but hidden machines that release the special pheromones. Some are in heavily populated areas while others are in places with strong air currents. The combination brings most of the world under the Vine Syndicate’s control.

These machines are guarded by many Vine Syndicate members. They are also doing whatever they want to the nearby victims of their mind control. But if the machines they guard are destroyed then the area will no longer suffer the Syndicate’s wrath.

To completely stop this from continuing the remote controlling all the machines would have to be turned off. But that particular remote is in the hands of the current Syndicate leader, DaggerKlutz.

The Vine Syndicate has put their sinister plan into action. The world’s population is under their control. Anyone who wants to stop them may have to deal with several reckoning forces.

Starting Aroma-geddon

A quiet audience waits patiently in a very dark theater as things are being prepared. A bright spotlight shines down on the edge of the stage with a loud click. DaggerKlutz, a self proclaim evil genius and leader of the Vine Syndicate, steps into the spotlight. The audience strangely remains quiet. Very few sounds are being made.

The bright spotlight follows DaggerKlutz as he walks around the stage and delivers a speech. With a loud and happy tone he begins to talk. “Smell-utations ladies and scent-tlemen.” The evil genius starts to chuckle because of his puns. “Everyone nose that the people are a powerful force.So whoever controls the people becomes in-scent-ly powerful. This means I am one of the most powerful people on the planet.” DaggerKlutz enters a fit of laughter. He seems to be really enjoying himself.

The evil genius takes a few deep breaths to stop himself from laughing too much. “Let me explain the main ele-mental of my evil plot. Try to wrap your minds around this; the Vine Syndicate has just gained control of everyone’s mind. This includes you. Here’s a re-mind-er, I have the only remote control that can stop this. We are unstoppable” He starts to laugh again. Things were going as planned. He was in Washington D.C. with everyone under his control. The only reason he wasn’t affected by the pheromones was because of the special nose plug he had. It was specifically crafted for this occasion; it didn’t completely block his nasal passages but still prevented the chemicals from affecting him.    

“What’s the matter? You all seem speechless about this plan-et. Harhahahhomuwhaha! Did I blow your minds? Hahhahaharheehohahaha! Good thing you guys aren’t clocks. Because you don’t tock. Muhawhahahahhahaahahahaha! I am so pun-ny. Hahahahawhamahaha!”

DaggerKlutz’s plan was evil. The only thing more diabolical than his plan was the pun-ishment he was giving the crowd. (Darn, now the narrator is doing it too.)

DaggerKlutz was holding onto his sides as he laughed. He was barely getting enough oxygen with all his hard laughing. But he was able to mention one final pun during his fit of laughter.

“This is the beginning of Aroma-geddon.”

Chaos in Paradise

Aert, Nunavut, Canada. One of the Northern-Most Arctic Populaces on Earth.

 
The near-deafening tone of the weather alarm echoed through the streets of the small town, alerting all of the inhabitants that the annual winter hurricane was drawing near. Unfortunately, that was the least of the townsfolk’s worries. Several kilometers away, the single figure of a man stood atop of a large hill that overlooked the town. Clothed in white winter apparel that almost made him invisible to the naked eye in this setting, the man raised his arm straight into the air and waved it forward. The fallen snow began to move to a sudden change in the wind, blowing in every direction as several helicopters flew overhead, approaching the small town while the man entered a large Humvee that appeared behind him and sped off in the same direction. The man looked to his left at his driver, who was dressed in similar apparel. "We have thirty-seven minutes until the hurricane hits. We need to hurry." The man spoke, looking back and noticing the town only a few hundred yards away now with the helicopters already landed on the main street, dispatching a multitude of soldiers to carry out their orders. 

The winter-clad soldiers began to spread out through the city of groups of four, bursting through the doors of every building and emerging once again with the frightened townsfolk as the echo of the weather-alarm system began to die as electricity throughout the city failed. The Humvee now within the town, came to a stop near the closest helicopter with the man from the hill casually exiting the vehicle and making his way towards the area where the townsfolk were rounded up. The fear in the civilian’s faces brought amusement to the man as he pulled down his scarf to reveal his identity. The man was known as Canine, The Wildside of Predators and a ranking member of The Vine Syndicate. With a grim-faced expression, Canine approached the nearest of the soldiers who aimed their weapons at the tear-filled civilians. Resting his hand on the nearest armed man's shoulder, Canine quietly whispered into the soldier's ear and walked away. As he approached his Humvee, Canine heard the distant sound of gunfire mixed with the terror-filled screams of the victims.  

Canine opened the front passenger door to the vehicle and entered. "Well the town’s clear and we have six minutes until the hurricane hits." Canine spoke to the driver beside him while taking out a control panel from the glove compartment while the several helicopters came back to life and prepared to take off, waiting for their passengers to return. The panel’s touchscreen read: [Initiate Aroma-geddon? Yes? No?] Smirking at the title, Canine pressed the ‘Yes’ button as the helicopters took to flight and headed south. "We should get to a safe distance." Canine addressed his driver as the ice began to rumble under the humvee, prompting the quiet man behind the wheel to turn the vehicle on and drive in reverse, down Main Street to the edge of the town. 

The icy streets of the town began to crack and crumble from the force underneath it as what appeared to be an earthquake shake their entire area. Without any indication, the sudden movement stopped and a large spiral emerged from the ice in the center of the town. The spiral towered over the area at an impressive four hundred and fifty feet and its base covered half of the town itself, leaving the buildings on the outer edge untouched. "Oh my God!" The driver spoke in shock, breaking his silence much to the surprise of Canine who’s sight darted towards the driver. "I thought you were a mute…" Canine questioned as the driver suddenly shut his mouth, realizing he blew his cover. "Were both in very deep trouble right now my friend. But I think I’ll live through my mistake. I know you wont." Canine continued. From outside, the Humvee began to shake as the motion of two bodies in conflict struggled. Blood splattered over all the windows followed by a silent scream from the victim and then total silence. 

Canine soon emerged from the Humvee covered in blood and holding into the control panel. He looked down at the screen that read: [Final Initiation of Aroma-geddon? Yes? No?] Canine smirked again, amused at the title and pressed the ‘Yes’ button, watching the spiral secrete a greenish chemical as the winter hurricane began to envelope the town. "Perfect timing… This hurricane will blow the chemicals down south and cover the northern atmosphere with ‘this’ stuff." Canine spoke out loud while covering his face with a gas mask, revealing the Syndicates plan apparently to no-one as he was the last living soul in the area.

New York City, New York 

A good perspective

The Day Before

DC Present Day

Himalayans hours before Aroma-geddon.

Footsteps crept through the snow that lied on the slope of the mountain. A ring on a phone soon let out a large echo and the figure quickly silenced it, not before a large avalanche came down. The figure stood strong extended his arm and a bright beam shot out from his hand that destroyed the coming avalanche with ease. The figure removed his goggles and the cloth that covered his face, Reaper pulled out the communicator and activated it. A small screen folded out from it and a face appeared on it, “I’m sorry to disturb you sir but…” “Colonel I hired you to manage things while I was gone do you know why that is colonel?” Reaper continued his march up the slope of the mountain. “Sir the Syndicate is requesting your presences.”

The clone let out a sigh, “tell them I’m out of communication reach.” Reaper then shut off his communicator before he tossed it through the air, “hmm I lost my only means of communication,” he said with a smirk on his face. Soon he approached a small village and beyond it was a temple. Reaper had his pack slung over his shoulder as he approached the temple entrance. There he saw two robed figures blocking the archway that led to the temple. “You may not pass through these gates traveler,” one of the figures said to Reaper. “I don’t have time for this,” with a wave of his hand the archway and the two figures were crushed. Reaper continued to walk through the temple until he approached a shrine, there he saw a third robed figure. This one remained silent as he swiftly shifted into a fighting stance, “I gladly accept,” Reaper said as he tossed aside his winter gear and left his power form to meet his opponent.

Their fists clashed together as the two began to fight each other. “They chose wisely on who to guard this artifact if I were anyone else surely I would have been beaten by now.” Reaper then swept the robed figure’s feet and he fell to the ground, “unfortunately I don’t have time to play with you,” his eyes glowed yellow as he went back into his power form and used his gravity powers to crush the figure. Then he saw his prize in the shrine he picked it up and sealed it away in a case. “This is Reaper ready for extraction,” he looked up and shot up in the air flying into a cargo bay of a airplane. “Destroy that village,” Reaper told the pilot who then dropped a bomb on it destroying any evidence of its existence.

Aboard the airplane Reaper grabbed a communicator and sat down in the back of the plane. He switched it on and the screen folded out, “colonel what did the Syndicate want?” The colonel’s face appeared on the screen, “sir they wanted to know if you were in position yet.” Looking at the silver case Reaper leaned forward in his chair, he told them that he was on his way to Brazil for their grand scheme. His own reasons led him to Brazil and into the Syndicate, “colonel I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Reaper then leapt from the airplane and he flew to his base, something that he borrowed from his creators. When he got there he sealed the suitcase in a vault that only he knew of and went into his communications room.

At the room there was at least fifty people at computers navigating Reaper’s forces and his interests around the world. “Colonel what’s the situation in California,” Reaper said from the perch above the technicians. The colonel looked up form below, “sir everything is in place and awaiting your orders.” Reaper went to his personal terminal and looked into the computer screen, “OPERATION POSIDEN,” it read on his screen he opened the file and began to look at the map. “Everything’s in place now it’s only a matter of waiting for the players.”    

Canine was putting on his gas mask as Gearo stood up from his perch in a nearby tree. He had been hearing rumors about a mind control pheromone from the Vine Syndicate for months and started following Canine for a week.  He had been cloaked while he had been following the blood-lusting beast and made sure that he stayed down wind of him. "That sick monster, I won't let him get away with this!" thought Gearo as he targeted Canine. Today was only a few of the increasing murders that the Canine had killed in the weeks he's followed him. Gearo has tried to stop and capture him, but the villain had managed to escape every time. In a quick motion, he jumped into the air and landed right behind the Humvee. Using his super strength, he picked up the Humvee and swung it right Canine. As he swung it he yelled, "Bad dog!"

Continuing Pun-ishment

DaggerKlutz walked out of the auditorium thinking about what to do. He had just delivered the first monologue of the event so all he had to do was wait for some heroes to come over. It seems the heroes were behind schedule. But.... what if all the heroes were under the effect of the mind control?! That would mean no one could oppose them. All his genius planning would go to waste! The first monologue would be his last!

The evil genius took a few deep breaths to calm down. There had to be some heroes left. Maybe they were late or taking care of the other Syndicate members first. But there was still the thought that no one could come close to stopping them. He had to relax, find a distraction. Suddenly an evil idea came to mind.

Rushing to the parking lot DaggerKlutz looked for his invisible bike. He tripped over something but nothing was there. He had just found his invisible bike. Now all he had to do was unlock the invisible combination lock. This would take a while.

After finally unlocking his bike and finding the seat DaggerKlutz took off riding in the middle of the street. Pulling out a megaphone DaggerKlutz yelled a command to the people. “Citizens of Washington D.C. this is DaggerKlutz, the evil genius controlling your every though. I will be riding around telling a series ofjokes. I command each and every one of you to laugh at them.”

“I have never tipped a cow before. But they never served me food before.” The nearby crowds of people start to chuckle. Using the megaphone DaggerKlutz commands, “You call that laughing? Next joke better get more laughs.”

“A convict’s favorite punctuation is the period. Because it symbolizes the end of a sentence.” The people start laughing. It is better than before but not enough to satisfy DaggerKlutz. He makes another command into the megaphone. “I want more laughter. Use your lungs people. I got in trouble for walking on a plane and noticing my good friend Jack. It really freaked out the people when I said Hi Jack.”

Now the people were laughing hard. It made DaggerKlutz feel hilarious. This was great. He was riding an invisible bike across town while making people laugh from his puns. He felt really evil today. He started to ponder what to do next. Maybe he could make fat people exercise. That would be really evil and funny. “Anyone who is overweight will start chasing me now. We are going to the gym. Mwuahahahahahoha!” A small crowd of obese people quickly assembled behind him. Some were already breathing hard. Only 8 more blocks to the nearest gym. 

Draconian watched from the shadows while DaggerKlutz delivered his speech. His great golden eyes glowed in the darkness, and he scowled slightly at his leader's puns. They made it very difficult for Draconian to understand what was going on, his grasp of English not great even when spoken clearly. DaggerKlutz's insistence that Draconian had to disguise himself was also a nuisance. Draconian was 6'5", and they simply did not make suits in his size at short notice. No matter how much they were payed. At the moment Draconian's wings were digging into his own back and the suit buttons were barely staying on. This would have been tolerable if it wasn't for the fake mustache/glasses thing DaggerKlutz had precariously perched on Draconian's face. Draconian told himself that this was all necessary, this rich evil genius would greatly facilitate Draconian's plan for world domination. DaggerKlutz had finished his speech, and was chortling madly. Draconian checked to make sure there was no one in the hypnotized crowd that would pose a threat to the mad genius, and then slipped off into the shadows. 
 
Back in the hotel room where Draconian was staying, he prepared for his role in the plan. Romania would be his once more, its people docile, and fearful of his wrath once more. He struggled with the suit, which had become snagged on his scales, and eventually managed to change into his considerably more regal garb. He wore a silken shirt, in the Chinese style, embroidered with dragons. He wore pants of cloth that would allow him to move quickly if he needed to fight. Around his stomach he wore a chain-mail waistcoat, and a rapier was in a sheath on his sword-belt. He walked over to the wall where an ancient map was pinned. With one clawed finger he traced the way from where he was in America to Romania. This would be difficult, but the necessary magics flowed in his veins with his dragon's blood. But could he maintain the spell that purified the air around him, kept him from inhaling the pheromones that reduced the heroes to mere puppets? That remained to be seen... 
 
Draconian closed his eyes and focused on the spell. Magics were not his strong point. He usually had left those to his court magicians. But he had the potential for sorcery...all dragons had intense inherent magical ability. Draconian, admirer of the Oriental, had mixed a little of that into his own magic. Eyes still closed, he drew himself into the Crane posture, and inhaled deeply. Then his eyes flickered open, and he exhaled a blast of fire that shrouded the whole room. He brought his foot down with strength that shook the building, and roared. Then the flame burned more brightly, and he vanished. 
 
Draconian reappeared upon a familiar cliff overlooking a rushing river. Did he still have free will? Yes, the spell had held. Was this really what remained of his castle? He had much rebuilding to do, but that could wait. The city should be directly to the west. Draconian spread his wings and launched himself off the cliff, circling around and heading towards the glint in the distance. It took almost no time at all to reach the city. It was a strange mix of the East and West. Draconian could see that superstition still reigned, garlic encircled windows and doors. And they thought they had to fear vampires....Draconian grinned, showing a mouth full of wicked teeth. The buildings were now all glass and steel. How well would that serve them? Not well. Draconian flew up high, higher, then plummeted, landing on top of one of the buildings and razing it to the ground. The hypnotized people stood still even as blood pooled around there feet. <<My people! I have returned! Obey your king, get arms, march!>> The Romanian language rolled off of Draconian's tongue sweetly. 
 
There were no dissenters. Almost too bad, Draconian liked making examples of them. They stood neatly in ranks and files, weapons on their shoulders. Draconian found a telephone, and called DaggerKlutz. "Boss, I'm in position." He hung up and flew to the next city, and the next. Each place it was the same. Would world domination really be this easy?

The hurricane winds of the winter storm blew with an unrelenting force as Canine remained beside his humvee, simply watching the spectacle of the chemicals secreting from the spiral structure. His master’s plan was coming into fruition as emergency radio broadcast messages from nearby towns and other northern cities around the arctic interrupted the music that played on the vehicle’s radio. "Dagger will be happy." Canine boasted, proud of his accomplishment, continuing to look at the spiral through his gas mask. He walked closer towards the spiral, leaving from the cover of his vehicle and exposing himself to the strong gusts of snow, unaware that he was being watched. Gearo the hero. Canine had eluded capture by this man several times in the recent past, not knowing the reason to Gearo’s obsession in him. Fortunately for the hero, Canine couldn’t detect his scent due to the device that covered the feral mutant’s face, which would become a serious advantage for Gearo and possibly defeat Canine in one, quick and fatal strike.  

Now, twenty-some feet away from the humvee and closer to the loud mechanical device that Canine was sent to protect, he couldn’t notice that his vehicle was being raised off the ground by a terribly strong force. "Bad Dog!" The words came from the force that held up the humvee, loud enough to distract Canine’s attention from the device. As the Wildside of Predators turned his body to face the force that addressed him, the humvee came around and stuck Canine’s left side. Canine’s head, followed by his body, cracked against the rough surface of the ice as blood freely flowed from him. His mask clattered loose against the ice while connected to his face, which he drastically pressed his hand against it, holding the device tight against his face while strapping the Velcro back to it’s fasteners. Canine remembered that his master Daggerklutz informed him that the secreting chemicals have the potential to corrupt his metabolism with fatal side effects. The memory worried him as he rolled to his front, raising to his knees as he looked up to see the face of his recent enemy Gearo. Seeing the hero deeply frustrated him as he had that effect on Canine every time they had met. 

"I honestly didn’t expect you’d find me… Well so quickly atleast." Canine spoke through his gas mask as his claws extracted from his hands. "You can’t destroy the tower without the device attached to my hip." He continued as he jabbed his claws deep into the icy surface beneath him, while noting at the small panel connected to his side. Canine smiled underneath his mask in pride as the icy area around him began to crack. "But if you are here to finally stop me, then you’ll have to follow. If you don’t follow then you’ll never stop me" Canine gestured as he applied the full force of his body into the edges of his claws, driving his arms deeper into the ice. Suddenly a tremendous sound erupted from the surface, pressurized air leaking from the thin cracked spaces, causing the surface and anything on it to collapse downwards into an area void of space. Canine’s body fell deep into what appeared to be a chasm free of ice and snow, only to be surrounded by stone. He’ll follow me, just like he has been for all this time, and when he meets me in this formidable ‘arena’, then we’ll settle this score between us once and for all. "Come down here you coward!" Canine shouted upwards, waiting for Gearo.    

 Cafe Beanz

 “There’s something going down Sicily” Gwen said looking at the young teen, leaning on the wall. “Something like what?” Sicily asked trying to figure out where all this was going.   “I’m not sure, but as long as were behind these walls we’re safe, when you go out…keep your Sha-X on.   “I got word from the Cortega force, Sergeant Maki that the “statue” she chased in New York has his dealings in this. “So you want me to help with this AND take care of Solace city?”   Gwen folded her arms and paced back and forth across the room, “No I was simply warning you to be cautious while in Solace City, Maya will also help.

Sicily nodded and headed back to the CODA HQ. “Anyone at the HQ?” she asked while en route back to the Solace City Bridge. She received no answer, so she figured she would go back to the HQ and wait for the team.  “RETNA” give me visuals on San Francisco, San Diego, and Solace City.   The computer showed the three cities on the screen, everything seemed normal. “I can’t really see what the problem is” Sicily said with her hands folded glancing at the screen.

Sicily through a bunch of strife and training, she had been hardened to not let her emotions effect her decisions. “There is an unknown substance entering the atmosphere over Solace city.” Sicily stood with her hands folded, with her eyebrow raised. “Can you break down the components?” Sicily asked pacing back and forth. “Running a scan now”.   “Madam it seems that there is a hypohallucinagenic gas” Sicily’s eye rose, and then sent out a beacon to Gwen back in Arizona. She ran her hands through her hair letting out a long exasperated sigh “I’m getting to old for this mess”

“SHA UP!” The metal Virbrium suit quickly formed over her figure and she was ready to go. “Hey Gwen, this is Sicily your susiscpions look valid, there is a hypohalucinagenic gas in the air”. “What are you going to do sha- x?” she responded quickly sounding as if she was running. “I’m going downtown to see if I can look for a source”. Sicily sped towards the city on her motorcycle, no sooner than she and Gwen finished speaking, RETNA sent a message. “The citizens of Solace City have started to turn violent” Sicily sighed and exited the highway towards down town Solace City.

When she entered the city, there was visible civil decay, from grown men fighting, to babies crying the whole city erupted in to absolute anarchy. “This’ll be harder than I thought, she said dispatching her “limbs and climbing to the top of the building, placing some separation between her and the crowd. “I’m not too sure what to do…” she said. The people began smashing in windows and starting riots, letting off a deep sigh she glanced down at the people below. “Time to f^ck sh!t up”

With that said Sicily stood up and leapt from the building, descending into the chaos ridden streets below. She must too have been seen as a riot officer, because they quickly attacked her. The black suit, shined in the sun, giving off a mean glare; had this been a training simulator Sicily would have laid waste to all of them. She backs herself into a corner as the masses began scratching and clawing at her; she used her mind to activate her limbs, her lower most leg came across her ride side and smacked everyone out of her way. She then used the arms to springboard up and away from harm. She glanced down at those trying to burn the steel limbs she used to escape; and grimaced. “I try to bring you life but you want dead…” Using her mind again, she used her hind limbs to extend down and smack them away. She could see a Love helicopter flying over head; so it was time for an extraction. “Seems that I have to give up on my city…but I’ll be back”

“Any idea on who did the gas?” Sicily asked Gwen when they were high in the sky. “Nope but we do have a radio transmission that we intercepted earlier listen”.

“Let me explain the main ele-mental of my evil plot. Try to wrap your minds around this; the Vine Syndicate has just gained control of everyone’s mind. This includes you. Here’s a re-mind-er, I have the only remote control that can stop this. We are unstoppable.”

After the transmission broke, Sicily looked at Gwen a bit dumbfounded. “Is...Is he monolouging?” Gwen shook her head. “There are numerous incidents going on around the world, the most current being in Canada… guess where your heading?” Gwen smiled handing Sicily a passport.

“Isn’t this a job for the Vine Titans?” she thought to herself, whilst falling to sleep.

Edward awoke to the sound of the CODA HQ communicator,   “Anyone at the HQ?”  he heard  in his still waking head. Since he couldnt find his communictor and he had no idea where Sicily's voice was coming from, he rush around his room creating a small hurricane of junk and clothes till he spots he communictor " is this thing broke again damit cant call out" he thinks to himself as he frustratingly tries to reply to the call.  I wonder if shes in  reach of telepathy " Sicily you called, can i help ?.  I'am at HQ, communicator out going is broken send info "  He gave it 5 mins for a reply and tried again yet there was still nothing. Coming to the conclusion she was out of raneg or somewhere Psi-shielded he sneds her an email knowing that her communicator would pick it up no matter where she was.
 
From: EdwardWindsor@CodaHQ.com
To:SicilyBoss@CodaHQ.com
Sicily , 
Whats up? got a coms call but couldnt reply. Get back to me, switching my communicator for one of the spares. Preped and ready to roll
 
Peace , Eddy x
 
Edward unsure where to go or what to do, decides to web search and see if he can find any clues on where to be. After a bit of searching he finds a link on the LOVE site with a recored message from a group unknown to him who go by the name of (Vine Syndiate)  he plays the message  “Let me explain the main ele-mental of my evil plot. Try to wrap your minds around this; the Vine Syndicate has just gained control of everyone’s mind. This includes you. Here’s a re-mind-er, I have the only remote control that can stop this. We are unstoppable.” . "Mind control nice hmm, i wonder how they could be doing that" Edward considers the options a telepath of the level required would of detected him or vis versa, perhaps some form of drug or weapon. Best make sure i have my breather and watch out for anything out of the ordinary then he concludes. He continues reading the info posted on the LOVE site and finds theres suposed to be multipal locations of incidents but no confirmed locations,  probably as a means to stop vigilantes and non supers turning up and getting hurt.
 
Eddy decides to Ring Love HQ getting the answering machine " Hi, this Is Edward the guy that spilled the drink in reception awhile back  and CODA member. I hear there's some issue that is requiring some extra hands, Sicily my team mate is already active and  and i need location for assist. Please respond ASAP thanks" So Eddy waits at HQ  waiting for the information whilst also maintaing a watchful ear on his police scanner.

Skies of South America, One hour before Aroma-geddon scheduled to commence...

The blades from the helicopter sliced through the thick air of South America. Several large containers were spread throughout it’s hull and several armed guards sat on top of them, their faces covered with gas masks. Reaper leaned against the hull peering down at his GPS, “we’re close everyone get ready,” the various guards stood up and grabbed the large cases. But Reaper grabbed a smaller briefcase the one he used in the Himalayans, the choppers landed and more than a dozen troops spread out and began to drop the large silver containers on the ground. The GPS in Reaper’s hand was began to give out a faint beeping noise, “you guys get set up I won’t be long,” then he moved into the thick jungle. Brushing the canopy out of his way Reaper approached a small crater in the ground, “there you are,” he said as he opened the case that he carried with him. Air was let out of the case as he put something in there and sealed it shut.

On his way back he could hear helicopters moving back and forth along with the sound of truck engines. By the time Reaper cleared the jungle he could see that the guards he brought had already began piling sandbags and pulling away the camouflaged equipment and building that had been built months ago. In the middle of the fortified zone a device had been being built from the silver cases that the helicopters kept bringing in, Reaper looked at his watch, “hurry up the Brazilian army is going to be here any minute.” The remaining devices were placed on the chrome structure that resembled a canon of sort, “sir awaiting firing coordinates,” one of the soldiers said, Reaper handed him a key card. The soldier knelt next to a terminal inserted the card and punched in some keys.

Then one shell flew out and into the upper atmosphere, “masks on now,” Reaper shouted as he injected himself with a strange liquid. The shell exploded and a large sparkling cloud spread out from it, “you get ready,” he said to another soldier, he nodded and entered in the building. After passing several checkpoints he took off his mask and joined others in a control room, he went to an isolated room encased in windows and sat at a terminal. Bank of Brazil Sao Paulo branch, it read on the computer screen the soldier clicked at the screen and a blueprint of the building appeared. Then he entered disable security measures, “sir security measures disabled,” he said into a radio. Reaper stood outside on top of the hill looking down at Sao Paulo, “good begin to transfer funds,” Reaper said. After he finished he punched in another code on his radio, “bank team go,” he said and shut off his radio.

Several other shells were launched from the canon in various directions and in minutes the screen on the computer showed a red cloud covering most of Brazil. “Sir Brazilian army helicopter approaching,” one of the soldiers said and a SAM turned in the direction of the incoming chopper. “No leave this to me continue fortifying this place,” Reaper shot up in the air and flew towards the incoming choppers. He saw four helicopters two transports and two attack escort copters, “this shouldn’t take too long,” he said as he extended his arm. He closed his hand in a fist and two of the helicopters suddenly feel fast to the ground and exploded, “two more,” he said as he flew straight through one that tried to avoid him and used an energy blast to destroy the last one. Reaper landed on the ground and one of the soldiers handed him his case Reaper took it and looked at his watch, “perfect right on time the plan is going accordingly.”    

"Come down here you coward!" yelled Canine in an attempt to taunt Gearo through his gas mask. Since he was wearing the mask, that meant that the pheromone was already being released into the atmosphere. His machine-like body would protect Gearo from the pheromone, but if he transformed back into his human form, then he would fall victim to the mind control. "He's probably got a trap set for me, but what kind of hero would I be if I didn't fall into a villains trap." thought Gearo. He smiled as he jumped right into the hole. As he began to fall, he pulled out a dog whistle from his helmet and yelled "Heel!" He then began to blow into it, knowing how mad this would make Canine.

A shadowy figure sloshed through the brown puddles of the thick jungle. Longshot trekked through the rain forest of Brazil, large waxy leaves batted against his face as he walked. The exotic creatures erupted in a symphony of nature. The red coat he wore as part of his costume didn't help in the humidity. His light grey mask absorbed sweat as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a GPS device leading him to the tracer arrow he had shot into one of Reaper's helicopters. The red dot signaled on a bright green topographical map a few kilometers ahead. He had little intel on the Vine Syndicate, it was like they had popped up out of nowhere and released these pheromones into the air. Luckily Longshot had covered his nostrils in a special putty he used as a stabilizer in his explosive arrows. It  filtered air as well as most gas masks. It was kind of annoying, but it was better then being a brain dead slave to the Syndicate. He only prayed that other heroes were on the job. Heroes, he hated that word. He wished there was a more professional name for it. Of course, the boy scouts couldn't get enough of it, the capes, the sparkling white teeth, the glory. Paxton would never know that. His face would never be on the front page of a newspaper, the ladies would never swoon for it. This mask hid more then his identity, it hid his shame.
 
He got low as he heard men shouting to one another in a clearing up ahead. There was a building, helicopters, and a sandbag perimeter guarded by armed men on all sides. Suddenly, several Army helicopters zoomed just above the canopy and they all fell to the earth, destroyed by an unseen force, then, he saw him, Reaper. The main target, take him down and destroy the machine then go home. That simple. He held his bow and whipped out an arrow, the fletchings ran through his fingers. His black gloves didn't dull his heightened sense of touch and he could taste the water in the air and hear the knock touch to the bowstring. The arrowhead had two prongs on the tip. Longshot reached for one of the yellow cylinders on his double cross-heart belt which buckled in the middle with a round metal piece with an arrow painted on it. He attached the yellow cylinder to the base of the metal arrowhead. It was a magnetic attachment, an electric charge that activated on impact that carried more then triple the strength of a tazer. He pulled back on the string, looking carefully at his target through the glass eyepiece protruding through his mask. "I never miss." he whispered to himself, "I never miss." and with that, he let slip the arrow.

Stepping out of his car, Frank stretches as he stands in a parking lot on the Las Vegas strip. Myers had the day off work from the High Caliber Weapons Shop, but having so much free time, he honestly felt restless and didn’t know what to do with himself. In an attempt to enjoy the day he decided to go to a few hot spots in his new residing city. While finishing his stretch, something in the sky catches his attention. Take that back. Not something in the sky, the sky itself caught his attention. A portion of the sky changed from the familiar blue to a sour green and purple mix.

The speed and the way it crept across the air immediately told the agent it was a smell or something of the sort, but no odor had a surface area of that magnitude. “That isn’t normal…” The Abstract murmured to himself as it seamed to spread faster. He quickly turns around and opens his car door, steps inside, and slams it shut. “It must be some sort of airborne disease, or bio-weapon. But whatever it is, these people have to get indoors!” Ever since the accident and gaining his abilities, Frank has felt neither human nor superhuman. But noticing danger on a scale like this, he has the strange urge to save them.  Reaching over to his glove compartment he pulls the latch letting it fall open, then he sticks his hand in the mess of papers and envelopes. He rustles though until he pulls out a basic white dust mask and a pistol he had left over from an old mission.

The Colorful Killer hastily pulls the string over his head and places the mask over his nose and mouth. It smelt weird from the simple of being used, but it had to be more tolerable then whatever was outside. A serious of clicks sounded as the Abstract checked the gun’s magazine. It was full, luckily for him. He exits the car once again and is surprised at the silence and stillness of the once lively area. Being so focused while he was in his car, he failed to observe that the mind controlling aroma had completely covered the town and the citizens were already under its trance.

“Everyone listen! There is something in the air we need to get inside! NOW!” He shouts to the crowds of innocent gamblers and tourists. He starts walking towards them still shouting out commands and trying to alert the people. They acted more as manikins then humans now. Unmoving with glazed eyes, some even had drool escaping the corners of their mouths. Frank had, had enough. He points his gun into the air and fires off two rounds. Every single body that was ear length away, turned to face him. “That’s more like it. Now everyone, go inside the nearest building. Shut every, door and window leading to the—“ the suited man was cut off as the tv in the sports bar could be heard. It was set on ESPN but that signal was overtaken by what seamed to be a lunatic in a costume. With a laugh he gave the command, "Go out into the night and destroy everything you see!" At the end of that sentence every mind altered person began to snarl as they slowly moved toward the gunman.

“Dear Lord…” Frank uttered as he realized he was soon to have the fight of his life.

 Firebrand watched the news in satisfaction. While the majority of the Syndicate had set up distribution machines in America, Jack had calmly and quietly set up his own machine in Tokyo. No bold declarations of power. Nothing to make him stand out. At least, not yet. Tokyo was a city of 36 million people. Firebrand wanted to ensure that he had everyone under his control before he started maneuvering his pawns. Jack started by taking down the city infrastracture. He personally destroyed the bridges, tunnels, and runways leading out of the city. Jack used the city subway tunnels to spread the mind control agent to the corners of Tokyo. Soon every vent, manhole cover, and storm drain was spewing his mind controlling pheromones. Soon, many of the cities "heroes" who found ways to resist the effects of the pheromones began to hunt the machine. Jack grinned a bit when he started to notice these heroes scouring the city looking for some monsterous doomsday machine, of course they weren't looking in broad daylight. Jack had set up his Machine in front of the Capital building and the cloaked it using his light bending abilities. 
 
Now that he was firmly in control of the cities population, Jack felt it was time to announce his presence and let the "good guys" come try and stop him. Firebrand launched himself into the air and flew toward the Ministry of Communications and activated the emergency broadcast system. With every TV, radio, and digital billboard now under his control, Jack uttered a single word, "Stop," and just like that, the city of Tokyo shut down. 30 million people all stopped what they were doing and sat completely still. "Now to all you 'heroes' who are still able to act on your own free will, know that every person in all of Tokyo is now under my direct command. I alone know where the mind control machine is located. Anyone who wishes to return these people's free will must go to the Tokyo Dome and defeat me.In 12 hours this plan goes into phase two, I suggest you arrive before then." 
 
Jack flew to the Tokyo Dome, and with a single powerful omega beam, blasted the roof of the building off. Jack landed in the middle of the baseball diamond and hovered over the pitchers mound, and focused, bending all of the light he could toward himself and forming it into three large rings of solid light, which slowly rotated around him as he hovered in midair. With every passing minute more and more light poured into the stadium and gave Firebrand it's power, until finally Jack felt the presence of his first challenger. It was time to teach these do-gooders a lesson... 

Reaper’s personal soldiers moved back and worth setting up their base around the Syndicates machine. While Reaper himself stood next to the machine holding the silver case, “this is Reaper I’m finished here,” he said on his communicator. After he finished his business with the Syndicate he walked into the building where more soldiers sat at terminals, Reaper walked into the isolated section and walked over to one of the three terminals. “Was the transaction successful,” he asked the soldier at the computer. “Yes sir funds were transferred to several accounts will be hard to track it all.” “Excellent,” Reaper said as he pat the soldier’s back and walked over to another terminal, “what’s the status of Operation Poseidon?” The soldier punched on the keys of the terminal and a map appeared, “yes sir everything is in position.” Leaning closer to the terminal he saw that everything was in place, “good now shutdown and wipe this terminal’s system.”

Before Reaper left the room he picked up a small black box and slipped it into his pocket. The bright sun glared into his eyes as he walked back outside to the fort, everything was ready they could hold off a small army with all the fortifications that they had. A total of thirty soldiers outside and another fifteen inside the compound, all had custom made body armor that could easily stop a knife. Reaper held his case and starred down at the city, it was quiet orderly not a single person moved without receiving an order. Made the job a lot easier for him and now his objectives were accomplished, he had done it everything according to his plan was achieved the Syndicate’s agenda came second to Reaper’s.

His moment of concentration was broken when he heard a faint sound of an arrow. Reaper’s ears were much more sensitive than normal humans so he could here an arrow slicing through the air. Swiftly he turned around and in a mere flash dodged the air, before grabbing it by it’s fletching. His gaze turned to tunnel vision as he tried to see through the thick canopy to see the would be assailant, “mow down the forest,” he shouted as soldiers rallied behind the sand bags and began to fire into the dense forest. Reaper himself walked up to the stand that held SAM missiles, there a soldier stood there firing into the forest. The arrow still clenched in his hand Reaper jabbed it into the soldier, an electric shock surged and the soldier fell to the ground. “Impressive the armor didn’t stop the shock,” Reaper then switched the silver case to his left hand and with his right picked up a missile. Carrying the missile he stepped away from the stand and tossed it like a softball at the dense jungle, then using his energy blasts he zapped it before it struck the ground. “Can’t afford to have my time wasted by this petty matter,” he said as he picked up another one and tossed it into the jungle once again.    

Longshot watched in disbelief as his target not only dodged the arrow, but caught it as it zipped past him. Even his own heightened senses and reflexes couldn't make him that fast, that accurate. Reaper looked into the jungle and started barking orders to his men. "Damn!" Longshot growled under his breath. The soldiers began firing rapidly. Longshot ducked and jumped into a ditch as the bullets flew inches above him. He took small piece of a broken glass bottle one of the soldiers had left and looked carefully, adjusting the angle. He could see Reaper bending down and picking up... a missile? With no effort at all, he tossed the missile right in Longshot's direction. He quickly dropped the bottle and aimed the device on his forearm to a tree at the other end of the ditch. The sliver gauntlet shot out a bolt with a cable tied to the end and with great speed, it dragged him through the dirt and away from the explosion.
 
Longshot sat at the base of the tree as another explosion came. He suddenly realized he had left his bow sitting on the other side of the ditch. He wouldn't dare risk going back for it, at least not now. Looking around. He picked up two handfuls of rocks. There were thirty soldiers behind the sand bags. He only needed to take down enough to keep the bullets off of him for a second. In rapid succession, he tossed the stones, aiming at the soldiers' exposed faces.

The Crater, Vine City 

Washington D.C. 

Welcome to Smell

Tokyo, Japan

Tokyo Dome, Downtown Tokyo

Realizing that every person surrounding him was under the mental control of a super villain or worse yet a group of them with some scheme to rule the world, Frank couldn’t take any chances. He had to see them as zombies, drones, targets, because if he saw them for anything more he would die at that place. All sympathy for them disappeared as they ran at him in a unified charge.

He aims at the closet civilians and without hesitation fires his pistol. His training as an agent coupled with his powers made him more confident that he would survive the battle against the barbarians. The first was a perfectly placed head shot, moving to the next person he sent a couple to the chest. Careful not to leave his back open he quickly turns around and fires at a man’s knee. Of course he would not die instantly from that but usually it would slow him down. Myers was almost horrified at what he saw next. The man took the bullet, then staggered as expected, but kept forward as if he felt nothing. The mind control must have cut off the connection between their nerves and brain. Pain was nothing to them, making them the ultimate army. The sound of his weapon echoed in the silent city as he continued to pick off single on comers.

One body jumped onto his back but refusing to fall under the weight, Frank thrusts his elbow backwards pounding it with the person’s side. Then he reaches up for the neck and yanks down as he simultaneously bends over. In a single motion the zombie is on the ground and receives a bullet in the heart, courtesy of the Abstract. Without warning Frank was punched in the jaw by another man, his head flings to the opposite side and he almost loses his balance but regains his footing. The same man throws a right hook but it was blocked by the agent’s quick arm. Not wasting a second Frank pistol whips the guy’s face, shattering the cheek bone.

The gap was closing between the Colorful Killer and the mindless army. A foot smacks Myers in the back and he was sent forward as he struggles to keep his feet under himself. He turns around to fire at the person but instead of a bang there was only a click. Frank was out of bullets. The High Caliber member lets out an aggravated grunt then throws the gun at the person’s nose. As his arm comes back to his side it was grabbed by a drone then his other by another person.

Spinning his arms, he escapes their grasps and takes both of their wrists. He jerks them towards each other and they collide knocking themselves out. Frank was getting worn out and felt he couldn’t go much longer if he kept fighting fist to fist. So with an exhale a colorful smoke seams to excrete from his body. His arms become pixilated and separate as vibrant colors flash around them. The Neon Nightmare spins around and slings his weaponized arm at a civilian that was behind him. With a single swipe the person was slashes in multiple places. Blood flowed out of the wounds and the body collapsed to the floor.

The Human Light-Show continued flailing his arms in a colorful fury. He butchered a large portion of them quickly but failed to notice he was exhausting himself. His strikes became despite instead of his usual precise. He paused for a second to catch his breath and that’s when he was tackled from the side by a large drone. Too tired to force him off Frank was pinned and the rest of the mind zombies pilled on. Over the sound of punches and kicks, the Abstract could hear the loud noise of a helicopter.

“Help…” He whispered as he drifted into an unconscious state.

Explosions and gunfire tore through the Brazilian jungle it could seem like it echoed throughout the whole country. Reaper had been tossing missiles into the dense canopy but he had already threw all the ones he had brought, and on top of that his well trained personal soldiers were one by one getting knocked down by rocks. Looking at the chaos that had erupted and spreading he knew that this intruder whoever he be was no ordinary combatant. He walked over to one of his elite personal guards and tore the radio off of his armor, “execute abort code alpha3567,” he said into the radio. The sound of several helicopters approached and landed at the base, Reaper began to inspect under the choppers and he found what he was looking for. Some sort of tracking arrow attached to the bottom of one of the helicopters, he tore it out and broke it.

Inside the compound soldiers hurried to destroy the servers and mainframes. They rigged the terminals to explode and began to load equipment onto the helicopters, Reaper walked up to one of the helicopters and handed one of the soldiers the silver case. “If he loses it kill him,” he told the surrounding soldiers as the chopper took off and flew away. The camp was empty spent cartridges lay on the ground, several broken pieces from the soldiers armor spread throughout the battlefield. Reaper walked towards the edge of the perimeter that had been built only hours ago and was now tossed aside. The energy of the battle could be felt through the air, as could the coming one.

Reaper grabbed his long black coat and slid it off of him. Still holding it in one of his hands he tossed it aside and walked towards the dense canopy of the jungle. He stopped short of entering the destroyed forest and scanned the grounds and tree tops for the would be hero. “I admire someone who is brave enough to challenge overwhelming forces with such weaponry,” he said . Removing the small black box from his pocket he flipped it open to reveal a metal switch inside of it, he then flicked it up. The Syndicates machine’s top slid up by four sleek bars and an orb appeared between the top and base. A small monitor appeared underneath the orb and it read, “ten minutes until detonation.” Reaper then tossed the remote as far as he could away from them, “there’s a kill switch on that orb and in ten minutes if it isn’t press a lethal strain of the pheromones will be released killing everything in a ten mile radius.” He also pulled out a small cylinder container from his pocket, which he tossed in the direction where he thought the hero was. “Inside that is a syringe that will make you resistant to the pheromones,” suddenly Reaper looked down with his bright yellow eyes and when he looked up again his eyes were brown eyes. He had left his power form in order so he could recharge and because he wanted to not have a huge edge over his opponent. “As you can see I’m not using my weapon perhaps you could share them same courtesy,” Reaper said then moved gracefully into a fighting stance.    

Longshot watched as the compound emptied, the soldiers fleeing to their helicopters and flying away. The device releasing the pheromone split in two and out from the middle came an orb with a clock winding down from ten minutes. Now only he and Reaper remained. Reaper waited in the clearing just outside the jungle and tossed a black box as far as he could in the opposite direction then threw a cylinder in Longshot's direction, it landed near his feet. He explained that in ten minutes, the device would release a lethal strain of the pheromone and at Longshot's feet lay the antidote and the killswitch lay far off in the jungle.
 
Longshot scooped up his bow and aimed an arrow straight at Reaper's chest.  "As you can see, I'm not using my weapon. Perhaps you could share the same courtesy." said Reaper. With hesitation, Longshot let up on the bow string and lowered the weapon. With complete silence, he shot the cable from his gauntlet into a high up branch, climbed onto the tree and jumped off, eying Reaper on his way down. He had less then ten minutes to beat this incredibly fast, incredibly lethal opponent and shut off the machine before every man woman and child in the area was killed.

Things appeared blurry as the agent first opened his eyes. The sound of the chopper was as loud as ever and as his vision cleared up he looked around his surroundings. Frank came to the obvious conclusion he was in the helicopter and thinks to himself, “They saved me.” His suit was blood stained but his body seamed completely unharmed. While he was sleep his body was jumping from his abstract form to his solid form, reorganizing his particles to heal whatever broken bones or cuts he may have gained from the mind zombies.

Letting out a quiet sigh of relief he ran his hand down his face. Once he felt his nose and lips weren’t covered he started to panic a little, but then he realized he still had his own thoughts and figured the helicopter was airtight. He looked to see the pilots of the craft and noticed they didn’t wear their mask either. Continuing to remain silent he listens in on their conversation.

“I still don’t get why you’re taking this guy to Draconian. He’s practically dead.”

“Because, he’s obviously one of those hero guys or at least he has powers. You saw how he went all rainbow-bright and killed all those people. We could get a major raise for this.”

“So then wouldn’t you take him to DaggerKlutz? He’s the one in charge.”

“Personally I like Draco more. He looks so bad@$$ with all the armor and wings and stuff.”

“Aren’t you a bit old to be using lingo like, ‘bad@$$’?”

“Whatever, you know how Klutz is. He’d probably make some lame joke and tell us to get out. I think Draco’s so fixed on becoming 'great' again, he’ll keep the guy and make him his mindless minion and give us some ancient gold or something.”

By then Frank had heard enough. “I’m not being anyone’s slave!” he thought with anger. He slowly started to undo his tie and slips it off, then wraps an end around each hand leaving about a foot of it loose. In one swift motion he lunges forward, lifts his arms over the seat and the co-pilots head then yanks back hard, so that his tie would crush the man’s windpipe. “What the?! The pilot shouts after the surprising assault. Keeping one hand on the controls the pilot throws his fist behind the chair trying to hit the Technicolor Ghost. Frank takes a few blows to the head and shoulder but did not ease up on strangling his first target.

After the estimated ten seconds it took for the co-pilot to completely stop breathing Frank jumps up and grabs the pilot’s arm and pulls back on it and around his chair. A loud popping sound could be heard as the soldier’s arm pops out of socket. The pilot yelled in agony and without warning received a quick punch to the throat, breaking his neck. Dying instantly his body went limp and Frank was alone on the helicopter. Without anyone one else to worry about, Myers quickly looks at the controls and navigations. “Romania?!” he says aloud in disbelief.

He thinks about calling his team for some help, but remembers the worldwide mind control gas and accepts the fact that he’ll have to handle this situation on his own. Putting the navigation on autopilot he unfastens the pilot and drags him out of the seat. Luckily Frank and the other man were about the same size, so he quickly switches their outfits, because he planned on going undercover.  He climbs into the pilot’s seat and starts to manually fly the chopper.

It didn’t seam long before the Neon Nightmare was over Romania, and that’s when he saw the tall tower emitting the pheromones. Frank assumed it was the source because of the high saturation of the gaseous colors spewing from the machine. Myers secures his parachute and gas mask then grabs an assault riffles that belonged to one of the guards. Thrusting open the door he jumps out leaving the helicopter on a collision course with the tower. After pulling the drawstring Frank parachutes down onto the foreign soil.

The bald genius laughed off Jason's demands  " If you want it you'll have to follow me. Mwhuahahahahaha! Minions! Distract this herowhile I ride to my evil headquarters." And so, DaggerKlutz's legs pedaled like crazy as he made his way to his headquarters. Revving up his motorbike, Eclipse prepared to give chase, but before he could move, he was knocked onto his side by an obese Policeman. With his leg trapped under the bike and the fat Cop sitting on his torso, the young hero couldn't move! The rest of the group, having regained some of the energy they lost from all the running, gathered around, creating an impenetrable circle of flab. 
 
"I don't have time for this..." Jason grumbled, slamming his flat palm against the ground. Using his powers, he turned off gravity, causing the bike and the chubby law enforcer to float up into the air. The other fatties followed suit, so everyone but Eclipse was levitating a few feet above the ground. The Teen Wonder stood up and started to dust himself off, spotting DaggerKlutz entering a building at the end of the street. "The Hairy Back Company?" Eclipse said with an air of disbelief, not noticing that the mind-controlled Policeman was withdrawing a handgun from his belt. 
 
"Jeez!" Eclipse yelled, jumping into the air as a bullet embedded itself in the tarmac just behind him. He spun around and telekinetically yanked the gun from the Cop's hand, but as he did so, found himself face to face with a floating fatty's foot. The kick had some power behind it, due to the sheer mass of the one delivering it, which dazed Eclipse and left him susceptible to another attack, this time a chunky high heel was thrown at the back of his head, followed by a torrent of food from all of the chubby citizens. Waving his hand as he clambered to his feet, Eclipse hurled the fatsos across the street, where they collapsed in a pile, none of them able to stand up due to the increased gravitational field Jason had placed around them. "That should hold them" he grinned, taking to the air and flying straight for the Hairy Back Company. 
 
Crashing through the entrance, sending the revolving door spiraling off its hinges from the overload of speed, Eclipse halted in front of the reception desk, where a secretary was sitting, typing away on her computer as if she was completely oblivious to the fact that Eclipse had entered the building. Jason was about to head for the stairs when the secretary glanced up at him, and asked in a bored voice: "You one a them heroes?" 
 
"Uh, yeah..." Jason answered, pausing and lowering himself to the ground. 
 
"Eclipse?" She asked again, still typing away on her keyboard. 
 
"Yeah." The young hero replied again. 
 
"Top floor, boss man wants ta see ya." The secretary relayed the message, looking away from the hero and back to her computer monitor. 
 
"Oh. Right. Thanks." Eclipse said, quite puzzled, as in a flash of red light he vanished, teleporting away, only to appear an instant later on the top floor of the building. "Alright, Dagger, you bought a little time with your fat friends, but now it's game over."

A Monologue that Stinks

 
While Eclipse was busy shaking off the fat people DaggerKlutz was putting on his green battle-suit. By the time Eclipse appeared in a red flash DaggerKlutz was already in costume. Heroically Eclipse said, "Alright, Dagger, you bought a little time with your fat friends, but now it's game over." The evil bald genius grinned, replying with. "Close, but we've only entered the final scene." He pressed two buttons on the battle suit. One of the buttons caused the huge metal door to close. Now neither of them would be interfered with in this battle.

The other button created an energy wall the separated DaggerKlutz and Eclipse. “Don’t worry about that energy wall. I’ll be turning it off soon but first I need to monologue.” DaggerKlutz began to pace in front of the energy wall without taking his eyes off Eclipse. “What determines how villainous a person is? Is it the amount of tragedy a person brings to others? Is it the amount of crimes someone performs? Or does it depend on a clash of morals?” A short silence follows his rhetorical question.

“I personally don’t know the answer to this. But what I do know is that everyone has an evil side to them. A side that when uncovered brings a truly wicked person out. I have a question. Who is more sinister; the person committing the deeds or the one who gave them that opportunity?” DaggerKlutz begins to lightly chuckle.   He has high hopes that Eclipse is starting to understand where he is going. “Think about everyone who is suffering because of what my teammates are doing. I don’t know what they are doing but I hope it is evil. The thing is, I’m evil because I gave them the opportunity and the only restriction I placed was to guard a simple machine.” DaggerKlutz let out an evil laugh.

“I am evil because I brought these people together and let them do whatever they want. I’ve given these people the power to commit whatever crime they want. Sure, individually I am the least evil person on the team but all together I may be the evilest. Truthfully, do you think anyone of them would do anything like this on their own?” The small grin on DaggerKlutz’s face has become a full smile.

“The best thing about my evil is that everyone underestimates it. No one would dare perform mutiny in my team because I offer them whatever they want, I don’t rule them by fear but by friendship. Plus, heroes consider me the least threatening and attempt to take down everyone else first. This type of villain relies on the average type. My evil would be nothing without theirs.”

“I bring out the villainous side of people. I give them chances no one else has even considered. They trust me, they don’t see me as a strict leader but as their friend. Now you see why I am an evil genius. I have utilized a very evil relationship that is super effective. Next question, do you still see me as that same childish villain who makes you wonder how he leads the Vine Syndicate?” DaggerKlutz pressed a button, turning off the energy wall.                  

Draconian hovered high in the sky, his leathery wings beating furiously. He was supervising the strengthening of the tower by the pheromone-controlled slaves. There were more civilians armed with machine-guns and spears, swords and grenades, patrolling the area. So far everything had been going completely according to plan. To the superstitious Draconian, this could mean two things...firstly, that fate was in his favor, that the world would shortly fall. He could take readings later, but there was no time now...or, something was brewing and Draconian would be in for a fight.  
 
While he watched, Draconian ran over the orders that DaggerKlutz had given him. This was only the first step in the plan. If Draconian fell here, it was no big deal. The others could keep things going smoothly. Of course, it was a matter of pride that Draconian would NOT fall. He had never been defeated in a fight, and he intended to continue this trend. But later...later Draconian would be very, very important. And then fate's wheel hit a snag.
 
The first sign was the tang of death upon the air...Draconian let out a low growl, and began to search the sky. There were helicopters on patrol, rigid in formation. And then...there, a helicopter spiraling out of control, a small figure falling, falling right above the tower. Draconian's eyes flashed with anger, and he yelled out orders to the pawns below. <<Guard the tower with your lives! I'll take this...dissenter..myself>> 
 
Draconian did not hesitate. He beat his mighty wings harder, and dove at the slowly falling man. Draconian tried to analyze the situation...this man smelled nearly chemical, he was not a 'pure' human. Meta most likely, should be considered at least marginally dangerous. He was not being affected by the pheromones, and was heading straight for the tower...all this indicated that this was an enemy, a foolhardy one at that. 
  
 Draconian first breathed a blast of fire to destroy the parachute and perhaps incinerate the man. Then he hurled his 300 pound frame at the man, trying to send them both crashing to the ground.

Frank seamed to float as the parachute safely carried him down, but about a mile above his landing spot, he felt an extreme amount of heat coming toward his side.  Quickly looking over to see what caused it, he saw a huge cloud of fire hurling straight at him. He quickly throws up his arms to protect his face and head, the suit was engineered to be fire proof as well as keep the pilot from crushing under immense pressure. Flames cover a small portion of his upper body but the chute is instantly burnt to ash.  

Arms and legs spin out of control as the agent began a dangerous freefall. Careful not to drop the gun, Myers knew if he survived this fall he would have to fight his way out once again. Without warning his fall was stopped midair by the Dragon King. The suit did its job by taking the initial blow and saving his ribs from injury, but the sheer speed and power of the tackle still knocked the wind out of Frank. The two rapidly descended onto the ground and a loud thud could be heard. Dust flies up and the Abstract was stuck under the very heavy dragon man.

With his back and shoulders throbbing in pain Frank somehow forces out a small laugh. “Wr… Wrong target… Draconian…” Frank struggles to say as he pointed to the tower. Just then the helicopter smashed directly into the pheromone projector. The chopper was the first to explode then the top of the monument second. The high concentration of chemicals became highly flammable and that too caught fire and blew up causing the rest of the tower to crumble onto itself.

The explosion was stellar as the bright colors of the fire and chemicals flew out fallowed by a small shockwave. All those mind controlled people that were told to ‘guard the tower with their lives’ did just that. If they weren’t killed by the blast right away, they were thrown and fatally injured. Since Draco somehow knew that the Technicolor Ghost wasn’t on his side the going under cover plan was out the window.

Hoping Draco was distracted by the fireworks; Frank swung the back end of the riffle at the Apocalypse Bringer’s face trying to catch him off guard, and then fires a few shots at the Dragon’s Son scaly torso. If that worked he would squirm from underneath his opponent and start to run.

Draconian crashed into the enemy and pinned him to the ground. That was an easy victory. Draconian would give him a quick death. Draconian was about to snap the man's neck when he choked out a phrase that would change everything. " Wr… Wrong target… Draconian…" Draconian quickly turned his head, just in time to see the pheromone projector explode in a blast of chemical flame. Everyone nearby was engulfed in the hungry fire, the survivors were tossed away like rag dolls. Draconian's slitted pupils narrowed and smoke began to rise from his nostrils. At this point, he could let this man go. He had done all the damage he could here, and by the time he could get to any other towers everyone in the world would be on the lookout for him. Draconian could just let him go lead his happy little life...when hell froze over. 
 
Draconian let out a blood-curdling roar of pure hatred. Vlad the Impaler would seem like a Care Bear compared to the pain Draconian was going to inflict on this cannon-fodder. I rifle slammed into Draconian's face, tearing the flesh beneath his eye. Blood dripped down. Many, many people would have killed to get any of Draconian's blood. While diluted with human plasma, it was still a potent magical substance. Them, not realizing that all he was succeeding in was making Draconian mad, he shot at his chest. The bullets bounced off like a man's head that has just been slammed against the wall. Idiots. Always aimed for the chest. Draconian's scales were thickest there, and on his back. Humans...and their guns, worthless toys. Draconian grabbed the muzzle of the rifle and bent it backwards. He grinned, serpentine tongue flicking between razor sharp teeth. "If you believe in a god I suggest you pray to them" 
  
So much of a dragon's power is in its eyes. Draconian was no exception. He tried to hold the Abstract's head down, and stare him straight in the eyes. If he got eye contact, hypnosis would begin. In his life Draconian met no-one who could resist the hypnosis. No one SHOULD be able to resist. It was the dragon's gift, passed down through the reptiles until honed to a fine art. And now Draconian meant to instructed the Abstract to bow before him. 
 
He would make him grovel, and then he would crush his spine, vertebrae by vertebrae.

Reaper could tell that this hero didn’t trust him. But how could blame him his acts were certainly not the most heroic, still his agenda doesn’t call for heroics. Seeing that his opponent was unarmed he took one last step, he reached down to his leg and unbuckled his gun holster. Holding it in his right hand he gently set it down on the ground all the while watching his opponent. “I admire someone who takes the time to honor a traditional fight with no weapons,” Reaper said as he stood up straight starring his opponent down. Then he shifted his hands to his sides and bowed honorably towards his opponent.

Then in one move he rushed at him with the ferocity of his whole body as a weapon. He threw his fist towards his opponents right side and then with his left fist he aimed for his stomach. Then finally he would deliver a kick to his head, it was time for his opponent to try and get passed him before the clock ran out. Either way the fight turned out Reaper had already won in the long run and this fight was just an added bonus for Reaper. A fight against a worthy adversary which he had never had a person who provided such a worthy challenge towards him.    

Longshot landed firmly on the ground in front of Reaper who took a gun from his leg and set it on the ground. He gave him a traditional villain monologue about honor and worthy adversaries. Longshot had heard it all before. Reaper bowed signaling that the fight was about to begin and before Longshot could blink, he was hurling his fists in his direction. A powerful blow crushed his side just as a battering ram of a punch dug into his stomach. As he doubled over, unable to breathe, he ducked the kick aimed at his head, spun around and grabbed Reaper's leg, intending to fling him over face first into the ground. That would give him enough time to pin his opponent down after he caught his breath. Even Longshot's own advanced reflexes, senses and agility had trouble keeping up with this opponent.

Edward  grew tired of waiting for information having still not received any information on where to go, so he went for a run. After about half an hour of max speed running and still no sign of any potential problems Edwrad decided to pop into a nearby coffee shop for a drink which was simply called Cafe Beanz. Upon entering the store he was instantly aware that something bad had gone down here. The floor and walls where stained with  the unmistakable crimson glimmer of still wet blood, whatever happened  must of been very recent hewas just to late to stop it. Edward heres a rustle someone or something near him was moving.
 
Eddy then notices a familiar shape emerging from the kitchen,  surely not he thought to himself. But as this person continued to move towards him hes intial intuition was correct he had seen the person ahead of him before several times it was the gentleman zombie Nerx. Unlike the last couple times Eddy had seen Nerx  he appared to be in the midst of a hunger fed fury. A thought dawns on Edwrad , this time he will have to forget the pleasantries and bring Nerx in the blood staiend clothes he was wearing was all the evidence he needed . The mess he was standing in was either a result of Nerxs handy work or he was eating evidence of a crime both where crimes. Arthur announces his intention  " Nerx this time the gloves are off , no charm will  will help you here iam bringing you in"
 
Arthur reaches out with his mind and attempts to enclose a teleknetic coccon around nerx, with the intention of it binding Nerxs limbs and body tight like a giant straight jacket.

Tokyo, Japan

Tank awaited the arrival of some gallant hero coming to thwart him, some knight in shining armor to make the bad man go away, but none came. They were too busy elsewhere, or too frightened. "No one?!" he shouted, "No one dares to face me?!" he roared like a lion, his voice echoing in the empty stadium. "You can't do this to me! Do you know who I am?! I'm Tank! I'm the goddamn Human Bomb! If you're too afraid to face me..." he stood in front of the massive machine emitting the pheromones and began to glow all over, "If you are too afraid to face me, then the blood of millions is on your hands." he shone brighter and brighter, for over a minute, his energy built and built until he was on par with the power of an atomic bomb. "ERRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" his cry was heard by many as he balled up, prepared to set off this massive explosion. The ground began to tremble, the explosion was about to be released, when suddenly, two thick metal cables shot against Tank, throwing him several feet back and pinning him to the machine. The cables pinned down his arm and torso as they began to glow yellow. He looked around the stadium to see dozens of special forces soldiers march onto the field. Ropes descended from the balconies and more soldiers slid down on them.
 
They all stood in rows in front of him as one soldier, distinguished from the rest, walked down the aisle between them. "At ease, men." he said in his proud, bold voice which was hardly distorted by the gas mask. They all moved out, some arrested Swanson, others swept the field to check for landmines. The general, as he apparently was, looked Tank dead in the eye, his cold, merciless look left Tank somewhat admiring of him. 
 
Tank jerked at the cables, he should have had no trouble in breaking them, but suddenly, he convulsed and cried out in pain as a massive electric current bolted through him. As the shock subsided, his muscles relaxed and he leaned forward, looking up at the general. "No use struggling." he said, "Those are the same cables we used on you after Gearo kicked yer sorry ass. Only, I took it upon myself to make a few changes. The electric current, you know, the one that could fry a normal man on contact, is now twice as strong. But you pull that crap again..." he raised his pistol to Tank's forehead, "And I'll put an adamantium slug right between yer eyes."he put his gun back in its holster and lowered his head, going down to Tank's level and he whispered "We got you know you piece 'a sh!t." he turned around and signaled to his men. "Hey, general!" Tank shouted and the hardened soldier stopped dead in his tracks and slowly turned around, "I've got you now, you piece 'a sh!t." and with that, Tank leaned forward, struggling against the cables with all his might. "AAAAARRGH!" he shouted as the electricity tortured him, yet he kept moving. He bent down and the massive pheromone machine began to lift off the ground. The soldiers, including the general, watched in disbelief as Tank held the device on his back, electricity jumping every nerve in his body, and flipped over, bringing the giant hunk of metal down on them. Most were killed beneath the machine, some lay on the field, there legs pinned beneath it or cut clean off. 
 
With one last resilient struggle, Tank snapped the cables and stood triumphant. He looked down at where he assumed the general was beneath the machine. "Whose laughin' now, a$$hole?" he said as he spit on the ground nearby. The few soldiers remaining dropped their weapons and ran for the nearest exit. "Now, where was I?" he looked around the stadium to see that his mind controlled half naked slave women were screaming and running out of the stadium. "Hey!" he shouted, "Where the hell you goin'?!" he looked back at the destroyed machine, which was turned upside down. "Oh, right. Dammit." He put his hands in his pockets and walked out of the stadium, into the city which, thankfully, was still in the midst of a chaotic riot.

Draconian was relentless as he held down the agent with unbelievable strength. He seamed like an unstoppable force of nature, as the bullets repelled off his body and in all honesty, Frank envied him. His whole reasoning for volunteering for the experimental serum was so that he could fight creatures and superheroes of such power, fist to fist. The Abstract’s head was forced down by the Dragon King and in a futile struggle; he throws hits at the massive arms.

The gasmask protected Frank from the pheromones, but nothing shielded his eyes from the Dragon’s hypnotic stare. Unaware of the beast’s ability, Myers looks into the lizard eyes of his opponent and instantly drifts into an awaken sleep. As he lost control of his mind he also lost control of his powers. His eyes were the first to go “abstract”. Fractal patterns spread from his iris to the rest his eyeball. Directly after that, his face bursts into pixels and curving beams of colored light whizzed around his head.

Suddenly a drawn out, high pitched “Kree” was heard. What seamed to be a flying concoction of jagged shapes and bright colors swooped in and with what appeared to be dangerously sharp talons, slashed at the side of the Dragon’s Son’s face. The loud sound of the bird, snapped Frank out of the trance before he was in too deep. Not wasting anytime to look at what attempted to rescue him, the Neon Nightmare sent an open palm at the Apocalypse Bringer’s jugular. Even though it was obvious, Draco was part dragon, Myers still figured he had a basic human anatomy.

Once again trying to free himself, the Human Light-Show tucks in his legs then launches them at the chest of the monster. The amount of force behind the kick would most likely push the dragon man back far enough for the agent to perform a backwards roll and quickly get to his feet. Since is first mission of destroying the projector was complete, his new mission was simply to survive.

"Cut!  Let's do that again!" shouted a German officer through a Mega-phone.  After Aroma-geddon, the people of Britain were forced to be subjected to a mock version of "Operation Sea-Lion" again and again as punishment for beating Germany in the two world wars.  "Look, you over there, you are playing an ENGLANDER!!! You are supposed to cower before the unstoppable might of the Wehrmarcht and realize that nothing can defeat Deustchland!  NOW DO IT AGAIN!" he shouted, and as if they were put on strings, the British soldiers moved back to positions on beaches to await the mock invasion of britain for the three hundredth time.     The Americans were not spared this fate, in fact, every thursday, the Maryland coast would suffer a mock invasion, without stop, and each time the Americans would be beaten in a horribly cheesy plotline so poorly written that it would cause physical pain.  Not even the Russians were excempt from this punishment, in fact, for playing the largest role in Germany's defeat, they suffered the most poorly written and scripted mock invasion of all, a script so poor that reading it was liable to cause one to loose his sanity.  As if to spit on the face of the three nations, Spring Time for Hitler was the only thing any play ever showed unless another vine syndicate member requested another play.  "I would have rather conquered the world by force of arms, but one has to admit that this is a fairly nice way to get things done." Said the Kaiser at a conference table within his massive personal Zeppelin.  "Jawohl mein Kaiser, world domination is nice when you don't have to put down any rebellions, but some pesky heroes are trying to spoil our fun." Responded a figure in a massive suit of power armor; The infamous Der Kommandant.   
 
"Ah yes, the heroes, those pesky little insects.  Dispatch a Kommando kill team to the last known location of each of them, I want them disposed of before they inevitably end up outwitting Daggerklutz, in the mean time, put more research into the development of a more permanent means of mind control, preferably a psionic one." requested Kaiser Wilhelm Von Bismarck in a surprisingly calm tone.  "Jawohl Mein Kaiser!  DEUSTCHLAND UBER ALLES!" answered Der Kommandant, his right arm in the full nazi salute.  "Field Marshall Austerlitz, I told you a thousand times, we are not the Nazis, do not do that salute!" snapped the Teutonic suit of armor.  "Sorry mein Kaiser, it is a force of habit." responded Fredreich sheepishly.  "Good, now take the shuttle and do as you have been commanded!" answered Wilhelm as his Airship and it's escorts floated lazily over Montreal.  As he spoke, Kill teams of twenty crack commandos in power armor were being dispatched across the world to put the uprising of the heroes down for good.  Each of the commandos on their own would present a formadible threat, but together, they would be nearly insurmountable.  

Reaper had managed to land his punches on his opponent but the kick would have been nice. His opponent had grabbed his leg and no doubt intended to flip him over face first into the ground, with his powers activated that wouldn’t even bother him but he wanted to have an honorable fight with an opponent. His right leg was in his opponents grasp and he could hear his opponent gasping for a breath the punches did hurt him but the good thing about being a clone of the original was that he knew all of his father’s tricks without ever having to spend the long years learning them.

“Gonna have to do better than that,” Reaper said as he waved his finger back and forth. Then with his free leg he used to jump off the ground and spin his foot towards his opponent’s head. “HIYA,” he shouted as if he were in a karate tournament from his youth or at least the memories that were planted.    

 “Gonna have to do better than that.” said Reaper just before jumping up with his free leg and hurling another kick aimed at his head. Longshot quickly ducked and dropped Reaper to the ground. Without hesitation, he lunged at his opponent, locking his leg and neck tightly and pulling them together in an unbreakable hold. "Is this good enough?" he said and let go of Reaper's leg, quickly raising his fist to deliver a direct punch to the peripheral nerve in his lower back.  He had used this move dozens of times, the victim's nerves would jump, resulting in an insurmountable level of pain followed by temporary paralysis.
 
As he moved, Longshot realized that the clock on the machine was still ticking down. He had less then eight and a half minutes to take down Reaper and find some way to shut it down. He kept the antidote, still sealed inside the container, on his belt. He didn't dare consider using the antidote on himself and letting everyone in the major area of South America die. He would just have to beat Reaper and the ticking clock.

 
Something felt a bit off. In the middle of finishing off the last henchmen Nerx suddenly felt a binding sensation as an invisible force took control of the air around him, his arms did not move as freely as before since it is too late and someone else is in the building. He reacts by jumping towards the kitchen while still being fully unaware of the situation, with a twitch and a pop he detached his arms and tumbled forwards at the door. Pulling out a gecko maneuver is a handy tactic against an opponent who needs to focus on a certain target, as the trespasser scans with his ability Nerx sets on sentience among his decoys followed by another trick that might cause some serious damage. Nerx then pulled in his neck and smoothed out his body to form a worm-like figure followed by launching himself at the wall. The psychic noticed something wrong as the shape of his telekinetic grip shifted suddenly, his mind picked up a scan on four other beings as well however they all appear to scream from the exact same spot.

 The force sent Nerx flying through the wall in a corkscrew motion, a drill like motion which got caught instinctively in the opponent's attention.  The esper uses his power to create a low level barrier which did its job by sending the body rolling backwards. The esper did not waste any time and used his abilities to pin Nerx upwards on the ceiling above to put him under control, as the ceiling starts to crack a little Nerx simply puts on an act where it looks as if he is gravely injured like a possum playing dead. An attempt made better by the pain given off from his head, one that is sufficient to mask the lesser minds of the four capable limbs with dangerous appetites. Each of them already moving towards the enemy at a fast pace. 
 
One arm sprung forward to attack the target at the head.

“Is this good enough,” the hero remarked as he pinned Reaper. He tried to get out of it but his opponent had a good grip on him and there was no way he could get out of it. At this point the had underestimated his opponent it started to show with such careless mistakes. This guy was good not your average rookie side kick hero, then he felt his leg loose and soon after that felt a sharp pain in his whole body. Whoever he was he had landed the blow that would end the fight in his lower back, pain wasn’t the worse that he felt but it still hurt and he couldn’t move. Through the corner of his eye he saw his opponent dashing to the control console on the machine no doubt he was going to trigger the kill switch for his plan.

 
“You think it’s going to be that easy,” Reaper silently said as his head gently fell to the ground. Dust flew from underneath his head caused by a sharp breath of air, when he looked up his eyes glowed yellow and he had a smirk on his face. Reaper pushed himself off the ground and on his feet, he stood there a moment to catch his breath. “Hey we aren’t finished yet,” his opponent turned around and saw him standing there not even a minute after he had been paralyzed. “Time to take it up a notch,” Reaper said as what seemed to be faster than a bullet leaving the barrel of a gun he was behind his opponent and moved to kick him in his back which would send him sliding to the jungle.    

Longshot put Reaper down for the count and ran for the machine, having only a few minutes left to stop the countdown. He searched around on the control panel, trying to find some sort of killswitch. The one Reaper through into the jungle was too far away and had probably been broken. "Time to take this up a notch." Longshot heard behind him and turned around to see that Reaper, who was paralyzed by the blow, was standing on his own two feet, off balance, but standing. In the blink of an eye, he was gone. Longshot looked around for him, confused, only to be met with a heavy boot to his back. Reaper struck him with the force of a battering ram and he doubled over, sliding into the jungle. He kicked up dirt as he hit the ground. Reaper was faster then he had shown before. At the end of the trench, he saw his bow. No way he could reach it before Reaper caught him.
 
The echos of the jungle reverberated off of every tree and yet, Longshot's hearing was sharp enough to hear a pin drop on a pillow thirty yards away. "You want to break the rules? Fine. I can play that game too." He eyed his target, raising his arm with the cable launching gauntlet. "Come to papa."he whispered and shot the cable, aimed at his opponent's shoulder, aiming to drag him into the jungle, see how he fought in tight spaces, how fast he was with a labyrinth of trees in his way.