March 11, 2014
We got interrupted briefly by Skye and Crimson Dynamo going all ‘For the Emperor!’ on the monkey zombie servitors, but after that Mikhail, Vanguard, and May got into full swing talking about team formations.
Which left the rest of us to kind of drift off.
I’m not a general. I’m a fighter, nowadays, and that has been a journey and a half. So, out of curiosity, I started wandering around on my own.
With a pair of armed Russian guards, of course. I didn’t mind. They weren’t going to just trust a random American with their base after all. After all, I could do a lot of damage inside… well, inside anywhere.
The Russian base of the Winter Guard was freaking badass. Tagansky Protected Command Point had apparently once been a secret military base at the height of the Cold War. It was completely underground in the middle of Moscow, right next to the metro lines. Of course, it wasn’t a secret nowadays, since a google search had told me all that, but real estate is real estate. And honestly, it was a sweet base.
I ended up stopping near the bottom of the base when one of the guards stepped in front of a door, preventing me from walking in.
“Classified,” he said in heavily accented English.
“Oh?” I hesitated. Man… classified is such a tempting word. Maybe there was something cool behind the door. Or something illegal. Or both. Maybe it was where Dynamo kept some of his suits.
“It’s where we hold the generator,” someone said, cutting off my train of crazy ideas with the harsh blade of reality. We all turned to see Fantasma walking up to us. The scantily clad woman walked over in her high heels. Seriously, she looked just like Kalinka Fox, which was blowing my mind. I’d get over it, same as I had with Steve and Nat looking like Chris and Scarjo. She stopped in front of me and smiled. I was surprised to realize she was a head shorter than me. Didn’t seem the least intimidated by the height difference though. “You want to see? It’s quite interesting.”
“Ma’am!” the guard who had stopped me from entering protested.
Fantasma rolled her eyes and switched to Russian. “Get out of the way. I will guard him.”
The pair of guards shared a look. After a moment, they walked away, still looking dissatisfied.
“Урод!” one said. A slur the Omnitrix translated as something similar to freak. Someone born unnaturally.
I stared after them in shock, then looked at Fantasma. She bit her bottom lip, pain in her eyes. When she saw me looking, she quickly recovered, turning and entering the room I’d been barred from.
The room we entered was big, almost house-sized. In the center was something that brought me to a standstill. “Daaayum. That is impressive.”
A gigantic machine was humming in the center of the room. It looked like a giant and squat letter H, with that little line in the middle replaced by a big glowing metal ball with wires and some pokey sections coming off of it. I walked down some steps to join Fantasma, who smiled up at me. She was standing near a set of comfy chairs that had been set up around a beat-up wooden coffee table.
“Dynamo made it. It’s based on the same technology as his armor, as well as some notes from Tesla. I’m not sure how it works, but it’s quite beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Hell yeah,” I said in awe, watching the glowing blue orb.
I grunted, walking down the last of the steps to join her. She sat down on a chair and put on leg over the other, watching me while I did the same.
“So, does that happen often?” I asked her. “The guys you work with, calling you a freak?”
Fantasma let out a surprised huff. “You’re rather blunt, aren’t you?”
“It’s part of my charm.”
She shook her head. “It’s annoying.”
“So is you avoiding the question.”
“...Sometimes,” Fantasma admitted. She looked over at the reactor as it continued to hum. “We are gifted with incredible abilities,” she lifted a hand and twisted it. Purple lights flowed off her fingertips, turning into intricate sigils set in a violet circle. A google search later told me it was something similar to mandalas in Eastern cultures, but with Russian lettering and symbols. The light shone against her face as she watched it thoughtfully. “But they separate us from the rest of humanity. It is only logical, for them to covet our abilities. To be jealous.”
I rested my head against my hand. “Sure. Sometimes. But it sucks too, right? Getting called that by people who’re supposed to be your allies.”
“It is the nature of people,” she raised a hand and watched the purple sigils float away from her. “To fear and covet these abilities.”
“Yeah. It’s human nature. And it sucks.”
Fantasma clenched a fist, destroying the sigils. “Yes. It ‘sucks’,” she looked over at me. “How long have you had your abilities, Mr. Schahed?”
I leaned my head back to look at the ceiling, thinking. “I don’t know… six, seven months? Since October, maybe?”
She laughed. “You don’t remember?”
“It’s been a bit of a roller coaster,” I grinned. “The last few months sort of flew by.”
Fantasma nodded slowly. “I have had my powers all my life. Since I was a little girl in an orphanage. I was forced to hide them. We Russians aren’t very friendly to that which is different. Later when the Russian government took me in for training after BRIDGE was created… I was happy. Happy to prove my abilities were a gift for the people, to save and help my country.”
“They didn’t mistreat you?” I couldn’t help but ask.
“If they had, Mikhail would have beaten them to a pulp,” she smiled fondly. The image of Ivan Drago glaring down at me saying ‘I must break you’ filled my mind. Yeah, can’t imagine anyone messing with her with that on her side, putting aside her own abilities. “He has been a father to me. Kept me safe, taught me to love these gifts.”
We sat quietly for a moment, listening to that massive engine hum in the center of the room. “I can’t pretend to know what you went through. I mean, I didn’t have these powers for long. But I know what it’s like to find a home. A place where people have your back.”
Fantasma leaned forward in her seat. “But if you had to leave them? To help them elsewhere. Would you?”
I stared at her, unthinking. “Uh… how long are we talking?”
“Unspecified,” Fantasma said.
“Oh, so this is a heavy type question,” I rubbed the back of my neck. “...I’d hate it. It would suck. For multiple reasons. But if it’s for my,” I hesitated on the word to use. “For my team? Yeah. I mean, I’m here, right?”
Fantasma bit her lip thoughtfully. “And if they were the only family you had? The only ones who had ever trusted you, to have treated you as more than a freak or a weapon?”
For some reason, I could tell that answering too quickly would be to my detriment. That it would seem like I was treating this very important question with careless brevity.
I looked back at the glowing orb in silence, thinking. When I spoke, it was only after some thinking. “You know? I think, as long as it’s to keep them and the world safe? I’d head out. For their sake… Being a superhero sucks sometimes.”
“There, you have more experience than I do,” Fantasma joked. “But thank you. It helps, a little, to talk about this.”
“No problem. Funny though, I kinda thought you were hanging out with me to get secrets or something James Bond type,” I said with a chuckle.
She smirked. “No. I’m not exactly the spying type. Do I look like a woman from a James Bond film?” when I cocked an eyebrow she looked down at her purple outfit and rolled her eyes. “Fair enough.”
“Don’t you get cold?” I asked.
“No. My powers protect me. Let me express myself as I wish,” she wiggled in her seat. “I spent a lifetime hiding myself and my powers, pretending I wasn’t different. This is just me standing out at last.”
I nodded. “Yeah. I know someone like that,” I said, thinking of Jen. Suddenly, it became hard to breath. I looked up at the door at the same time as Fantasma.
“Oh?” a living shadow strode into the room, teeth of black smiling down at us. “You look cozy. I’m disappointed. I was hoping he was planning on fighting you.”
“I’m not the combative type,” I glared up at the guy as he walked down the stairs.
“Ahhhh, but you are,” Chernobog huffed out a laugh and I felt my heart clench and release with each puff of laughter. “I can smell it on you. Blood and pain, like wine dripping off a knife. It’s almost hilarious.”
“Chernobog, did you need something?” Fantasma said in annoyance.
“I just came to annoy you.”
Well, what the hell was I supposed to say to that?
“It’s fun, you know? Seeing how people react in my presence. Used to be so boring. All the knights in shiny armor, screaming about they’d ‘destroy the evil god and remove all darkness!’ It was fun, at first. Killing them off had its own fun appeal to it. But then, they were boring,” he scoffed. “Idiots. As though I was the reason they all killed and raped across the land.”
He sat down at a chair with us with a loud sigh of pleasure. It made for a ridiculous image. “I like this century better. You all have more fun reactions, so much more varied. And Netflix! What a concept!” he laughed while I looked at Fantasma, who was slowly moving her fingers around to make more magic purple sparks. “I always rewatch the Office. Can’t help it. It’s just intoxicating.”
“Are you always this ridiculous, or are you still looking for a reaction?” I asked.
“Can’t I do both?” he smiled at me.
Seriously, that doesn’t… everything about him made me feel as though I was dying. Like he was seconds from ripping my throat out. Every word made my heart clench, and the second he walked in I had to squint to see, like all light that had been illuminating the room was headed toward him instead.
“See? Interesting,” the darkness in gold armor purred. “I’m curious, Dial. That watch of yours. Can it defeat me?”
“You wanna give it a shot?” I growled.
He laughed. “No. See, the reason I’m curious is, well… the Russians, as they call themselves now. They made us to reflect you Avengers. I’m sure you’ve noticed.
“Sorta obvious. You got a point there, bud?”
“Oh yes. Well, Vanguard and Dynamo are obvious. Hunter, he’s just a killer, like your Black Widow and Hawkeye. I’m the one who is supposed to represent your Hulk and that pondering oaf Thor,” he looked over at Fantasma. “But who is Fantasma? In our little group.”
“Chernobog,” she said warningly, more purple sparks flowing. “If you say another word!”
“You know, she was eager to meet you,” he hissed softly. “They warned her to be ready. She needed to be versatile, to have a counter for every trick… every alien. Sonic spells, illusions, shields, poisons. How often did you train, Fantasma? For the day you might need to kill your new friend?”
“Enough!” with that shout, she swung a hand at him. A purple line of energy blasted him in the face with enough force that I was rocked back in my chair.
He sat for a moment, he snapped to the side from the impact of her blow. He slowly turned to look at her.
“...” Chernobog smiled. “Oh? Does it shame you? To sit across from a man you thought you might have to kill, while he’s being so friendly?”
“You’ve got issues,” I said softly.
“Dozens,” he chuckled. “But then, that is my life.”
Fantasma spun and walked out. I gave Chernobog a glare, then went to follow her as he laughed eerily.
------
After some walking, she stopped and looked at me. “I had to.”
“Had to?” I asked. Honestly, I’d expected an apology. Instead, she was eyeing me fiercely.
“We all did,” she spat out. “All of us had to be ready in case the Avengers would invade Russia. A worst-case scenario. And I don’t regret it. It was necessary.”
“A bit of a hurtful statement, considering I'm right here, ya know?” I pointed out.
“You scare people,” she crossed her arms looking up at me. “That is unavoidable. I don’t want to kill anyone-”
“Okay, that’s more on the right track, back to friendly ground,” I said.
“But I also needed to be ready to kill you despite that.”
“And you’ve derailed. Back on enemy territory.”
Fantasma stopped for a moment. Then she looked at the watch. The Omnitrix. “You keep getting stronger. We keep getting records of more and more aliens. All so powerful… can you blame them for wanting me to be ready? In case those were turned against the people of Russia?”
To that, I could only open my mouth and realize I didn’t have much of an answer. I had thought about it.
What if… I mean, what if, somehow, someone got the watch off of me, used it on others? Or if I got brainwashed? Or if some evil version of me got shat out by a mirror dimension ala Star Trek? I could do a lot of damage. All of us could. Hawkeye was considered one of the weakest of us. He was also one of the most skilled killers on Earth, and he’d been getting stronger. If he got turned somehow… well, I didn’t like the idea of feeling cold steel slicing through my throat.
“So, is that why we were talking?” I asked. “So you could get a read on me?”
“...I was curious,” she said with obvious reluctance. “And your advice was helpful.”
“Heh,” I sighed. “Well, you’re welcome.”
“...You aren’t responding how I thought you would,” Fantasma uncrossed her arms.
“Yeah, well, I’ve gotten more death threats than most,” I shrugged. “Your’s is the most polite so far.”
She blinked, then smirked. “That’s not funny.”
“It's hilarious,” I rubbed the back of my neck. Was I not taking this seriously enough? Russia had been training people specifically to be able to kill me. How the hell was I supposed to take that? “Look, I’m just processing.”
“...If it helps, it’s all a worst-case scenario. Mikhail always told us to ignore the idea of fighting the Avengers. To remember our priority is the people of Russia, the people of Earth. That is what we fight for, train for,” she sounded earnest. Not asking for forgiveness, but at least understanding.
I looked down at her. She met my eyes without fear. “You know I’ll have to tell my bosses.”
“I expect it. And Chernobog will be punished for telling you.”
“But you really don’t want to kill me?”
“Not unless I have to.”
“Well. Do you think you have to?”
She thought about it for longer than I was comfortable with before shaking her head. “No, I don’t. I never did… but I’m not the only one who was trained to kill you,” she nodded behind me. I turned around.
Sergei was watching us from the end of the hallway. He was flipping a knife in the air, catching it, then flipping it into the air again. When he saw that we’d noticed him, he gave a nod, then walked away. Flipping his bowie knife all along.
“He’s been training for weeks, for the chance,” Fantasma said softly.
I gulped nervously. As I said, I don’t like the idea of cold steel slicing through my throat. But then I narrowed my eyes and breathed. Nat had trained me better than to be intimidated by this. “That’s the thing. I’ve been training too. So I’ll tell my bosses. But you should let your bosses know,” I turned to look at her. “I’d rather work with you guys. I’m nice like that. That said, if you do try to kill me, no amount of training in the world will be enough to finish me.”
She didn’t seem to know how to take that.
“Until then,” I held out a hand. “Frenemies?”
She frowned, cocking her head in confusion. “F-Frene-Frenem, what is that?” she asked, giving up on saying the word midway.
“Friends who might kinda be enemies. Like Tom and Jerry?” she stared, still not understanding. “Er, a cartoon where a cat tries to eat a mouse, but they’re kinda best friends too?”
“Oh, like ‘Ну, погоди?’” she asked.
“Uh, if that helps you?” I said, wondering what the hell ‘Well, Just You Wait’ was.
She bit her lip again, then nodded and took my hand, shaking it. “Friends that are enemies, then.”
“Great,” once our handshake was done, I looked behind me. “Now, as my new frenemy, what the hell is with having the darkness on your team?”
“Do not get me started,” she said with a shake of her head. “He is powerful, dangerous, and a complete svo-lach‘.”
“I hear that,” I grumbled.
Just then, my stomach growled. The two of shared a look. Fantasma giggled, and I chuckled.
“Come,” she turned and led me away. “I have threatened you with death enough. Now I will feed you.”
“Do I get a chance to try that borscht stuff?” I joked.
“Bleh,” she stuck her tongue out, disgusted. “No, I hate beets. We will have pirozhki.”
That last was said with an excited skip in her step. With that, she led me away.
------
Sergei Kravinoff/The Hunter
Sergei thought quietly to himself as he prowled the hallways of the Winter Guard base, nostrils flaring. He continued to flip his bowie knife in his hand.
Dial and Alloy. How wonderful that they had arrived.
When the squalid mess that was now the remains of the formerly powerful Russian government came to him with an offer, he’d been ready to refuse immediately. The country his mother and father had once loved had changed.
No dignity, no honor. Like all civilization. Only in the jungles and forests had he been able to find that.
Men would eat when they were full, kill with explosives and disease. Animals killed. But only for things that made sense. And they didn’t waste time on fruitless things, like the internet or television. All actions had a reason. Animals and plants didn’t do things just to ‘have fun’, they did them to survive. Even play was training and exercise for animals.
In many ways, he’d been proven right. A country of fear, of pompous and overblown displays like the one at the airport. Disgusting.
But all that time ago, when he’d been approached, they showed him things. Beings of incredible power. Beings they wanted his help in learning how to kill. How fun.
Since then, he’d been training again. The thought process had been fascinating.
He’d devoured hours of research on the Avengers and their allies, watching video clips carefully. The footage of their enemies was just as fascinating.
One of the best ways to hunt a predator is to watch it during its own hunts. To follow the same trails its prey uses.
And now, he had two of them where he could watch. Now was not the time to hunt them, of course. That was the fun, of course. Patience was the most important part. Patience made all things so much sweeter.
Kraven stopped walking. Melinda May stood there. He hadn’t noticed her.
...he hadn’t. In all his time back in civilization, no one had evaded his senses. Until this woman.
How intriguing.
“Did you need something?” Sergei asked politely. He kept his hands open, his stance wide. She noticed.
“Mikhail and Vanguard are looking for you,” she said simply. “I’m on my way to talk to Coulson.”
Sergei let out a grunt of acknowledgment, then moved to walk around her. She was still. Oh so still. As he stepped around her, he could feel it. The same as hunting panthers in the jungle. That tense moment when you couldn’t tell just who was the true prey. He almost sighed in happiness. To think, in this pile of civilized rot, he would be reminded so much of the thrill of the jungle.
Civilization was still a waste. But less so than it might have been once.
“Mrs. May,” Sergei said with an honest smile as he passed. “Thank you for this. Truly.”
With that, he left, all the while feeling eyes like blades digging into his back.
Exquisite.
------
Mahmoud Schahed/Dial
March 12, 2014
The morning after though, my favorite geeks had come upon a solution. They gathered us in a room together and started explaining what they’d found. With a torn apart body lying down in front of us.
“They’re clones?” I asked.
“Yes!” Simmons sounded absolutely fascinated. “And no. They are technically genetically engineered from the same DNA. They could almost be seen as being related, but they’re clones, without a doubt. However further research shows they were grown in pieces in vats. There's no sign of cuts where they are joined to cybernetics. Instead, they were specifically grown to be melded to robotics.”
“And the technology in their limbs is from Cybertek, at least the main crux of it, using Chitauri derived energy cells to power the weaponry,” Fitz continued.
“What sort of weapons?” May asked.
“Plasma energy weapons, razor-sharp claws, and a hell of a left hook,” Skye said, rubbing her arms with a grimace. She was still in full armor. In fact, all of us were ready to fight, if need be. I had my sword resting in my right hand and my gun on my back with my full armor on, Creel had switched to his vibranium form, and even May looked more serious than usual.
“Of course, we aren’t sure if these are just foot soldiers or not,” Fitz rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Soooo, this could be the elite, the standard, or-”
“Or Kragoff has more powerful creatures ready to attack with,” Vanguard snarled. Seriously, ninety percent of his dialogue seemed to be snarling.
“At the least, we know they can be killed by us,” Dynamo said. “But there are also markers of early Russian experimentation into cybernetics, as well as some engineering similar to that found in records from HYDRA we found when we purged them from our nation.”
“What is with bad guys making lego sets out of superpowers?” I grumbled.
“Can’t blame them for taking the easy way to superpowers,” Creel mumbled.
“You would know,” the two of us looked over at Vanguard. He was glaring at Creel.
Creel had just enough time to get angry before Skye spoke up.
“Anyways, we managed to find out why they woke up when I hacked them,” Skye raised an arm and her hologram emitter created a map. “They were all programmed with a way to head back home. GPS coordinates, in a way?” Skye smirked. “But, once I got through their defenses, we were able to track them here,” the map blinked and a dot appeared in a spot northeast of Moscow. Waaaaay northeast.
Sergei smiled. “Ahhh. The forests. He’s hidden away.”
“And probably has a base to do it,” Coulson crossed his arms. “I don’t like going in not knowing what we can face, but we have to start early. Boris?”
“Yes, Coulson,” the overweight politician said politely.
“Can you let high command know what’s happening? If we can get military forces to organize while we head in, we can keep this contained.”
“Agreed,” Boris walked out, presumably to go do that.
“He probably knows we might try to attack him. Vanguard, Mikhail, I’d like to invite the Winter Guard to fly on the Bus with us,” Coulson said, crossing his arms and swaying in place. “Probably best if we have our strongest assets together, moving as fast as possible.”
Vanguard and Mikhail shared a look. They seemed to communicate non-verbally as we watched before Mikhail nodded.
“Agreed,” Vanguard looked around. “I assume we leave now?”
“As soon as I get the Bus ready,” May answered in the affirmative.
“Wheels up in five, then,” Coulson turned and headed out.
------
Later, on the Bus, I walked down the stairs to join Crimson Dynamo and Fitz just as they were about to enter the lab. “Hey. May is about to lift off. You guys all good to go?”
“Yes,” Fitz smiled, then looked up at Dynamo. “Oh, um… I don’t know how comfortable you’d be about this, but my lab isn’t really… I mean-”
“It’s too small, da?” To his credit, the armored man sounded more amused than offended.
“Uh,” Fitz chuckled self-consciously. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about your tech,” I tried to say in a reassuring voice. “We aren’t going to hack it or something.”
“I was not worried about that until you said it.”
Fitz and I shared a surprised look and I quickly tried to save face. “I-I didn’t mean it, I was just trying to-”
A low rumbling chuckle erupted from the suit. “Joking. Only joking. Here, it is best we begin our work as soon as possible.”
Some surprisingly quiet noises filled the room. Fitz and I watched with bated breath as the back of the armor opened up. Faster than I would have guessed, the figure exited the suit to crawl over it and drop on the floor with a hop. The figure was shorter than Fitz, almost rail-thin, wearing workman's boots and a blue jumpsuit that seemed built for both mechanics and pilots. Brown hair streaked with blonde flipped in the air, green-flecked brown eyes gazing on us.
Fitz and I shared a surprised look, then looked back.
“What?” Dynamo’s pilot blinked up at us.
“I-I-I-I, nothing nothing whatsoever, what could-” Fitz stuttered nervously.
“I assumed you were a guy,” I said bluntly.
Crimson Dynamo, a near dead ringer for Mila Kunis, scoffed at me, waving an uncaring hand. “Well, I suppose that makes sense. Come on, we have work to do.”
She spun on her heel, ponytail spinning in the air, and strode into the lab, somehow still stomping with the same amount of force as when she’d been in the suit. “I think if we work together, we can come up with some ways to take advantage of enemy weaknesses, maybe a hacking program of some sort? What do you think, Dr. Fitz?”
Fitz gave me a hesitant look. I shrugged. “Hey dude, she’s cool as shit. Didn’t really have personal skin in the gender thing anyway.”
My fellow nerd opened and closed his mouth. “I-I just don’t,” he spun to look at Dynamo. “Do you have a real name?”
I laughed, honestly surprised by that. Dynamo turned to look at him, then chuckled. “Galina Nemirovsky,” it was kinda funny how husky her voice sounded. Very deep for such a petite person.
Fitz looked at me, then at her. He seemed rather nonplussed for a moment.
Then he breathed deeply and strode into the lab. “Okay, you uh, you said something about weaknesses? If we can isolate the main power for the machines, it’s possible we can disrupt them.”
“I think you’re right,” Galina (cool name) grabbed a tablet and started tapping at it. “I think we should focus on somehow making them a keystone army.”
“A what?” Fitz asked, confused.
“A keystone army, an army that dies once one thing is activated, destroyed, or removed. These are all connected, da? If we can force that connection, maybe we can find some way to shut them down all at once.”
I walked up the stairs, figuring I wasn’t as useful right now.
As I entered the halls, I ended up walking past an image of the world map. I stopped to stare at Russia, panning my eyes across it as the Bus hummed around me. I turned away and headed away, wondering how my friends were doing.
------
Antoine ‘Trip’ Triplett/A Friend
In a small laboratory in the middle of China, a scared scientist rushed through his lab, trying not to scream. Behind him, screams filled the air. The sound of blades slicing through flesh was followed by one of the screams going silent.
The scientist went around a corner and found himself bumping into someone. The man screamed.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” The person he’d bumped into backed off with a worried look on his face. In English, the man spoke. “It’s okay, it’s okay! I’m BRIDGE man, you’re okay!”
The scientist breathed a sigh of relief as he looked at the man. He was tall, with dark black skin, and very well built. He was wearing a strange armored suit similar to the ones BRIDGE soldiers wore on the TV.
“T-They’re behind me!” the scientist stammered fearfully.
The man frowned, looking behind him then nodding. “Okay, come on,” putting a hand on his back, he led the scientist away. When the man smiled, the scientist relaxed even more. The man had a very confident demeanor and a charming smile.
“What are they looking for?” the man asked with some concern.
In hesitant and accented English, the scientist spoke. “W-We’ve been experimenting with a new form of computer chip. Using new materials. I-I’m just a scientist, I-I-I-”
“Hey, hey,” the man, with concern, patted the scientists back as he led him along the hallway. The smile the man gave him calmed the scientists. “It’s okay. Look, if it’s just an experiment, we don’t have to worry. As long as you don’t have an actual chip, I can get you out. We don’t have to worry about HYDRA getting their hands on it, right?”
The scientist stopped. The man looked at him in surprise.
“...There is a prototype.”
The man’s face fell.
“W-What could they want with it?” the scientist asked.
“...Don’t think about it,” the man said hesitantly.
“N-No, tell me!” the scientist shouted.
The man shook his head. “It’s HYDRA.”
That was enough for the scientist. “We have to get it out, to stop them!”
“It’s too dangerous!” the man shouted.
“Please!”
Hesitantly, the man stared in the direction of the exit. Then he sighed sadly.
“Okay. Lead the way,” the man took out his pistol.
The scientist nodded, still scared but determined. “This way!”
The pair went running down the hallways. The scientist let out a shout when bullets flew past them. The man fired back, pushing the scientist along. “Go, go, go!”
“Ahhh!” the scientist screamed.
They entered a small room at the end of the hallway. The scientist stopped in front of a keypad to a door. “Give me a minute!”
“I’ll do my best,” the man said, worried. They stood for a tense moment as the scientist tapped at the keypad.
“Okay got-” the scientist turned, only for his eyes to widen in horror. A round shield was spinning towards his head.
“Down!” the man from BRIDGE pulled him out of the way. The shield flew past where his head had been, bounced off two walls, then flew back.
“I-Is that Captain America’s shield!?” the scientist stammered as the man pulled him into the room.
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“I wish,” the man said, pulling the door closed.
Still terrified, the scientist gulp. “Over here,” he guided the man deeper into the room. The place was cold, extremely so. Dozens of monitors were set up everywhere. The scientist ran to a set of lockers. “They were going to do some more test on it, but it’s pretty much good to go already.”
“Then we stopped HYDRA in time,” the man said. He sighed sadly for some reason as the scientist began to press numbers on another keypad. “By the way man… my name's Trip. What’s yours?”
“My name? Oh, it’s Li Jei,” the scientist, back turned, opened the locker and let out a little sound at the sight of the device behind all the trouble. He smiled with some hope.
“Li Jei… I’ll remember it.”
A single shot rang out in the room. Trip’s face was neutral as he watched the scientist fall to the floor, a hole in the back of his head. He stepped up the body and turned it face up, closing the man's eyes. Then he reached into the locker and plucked out the chip, putting it in his pocket. Without a look back, he left for the door.
When it slid open, two women were waiting for him. One was tall, with long curly blonde hair. She wore a white skin tight combat suit, carrying a pistol in one hand and a dented round metal shield in the other.
The other woman was barely out of her teens, rail thin, with pale skin and long straight black hair. She carried no weapons and wore only a black tank-top and blue jeans. However, a pair of long crystal blades could be seen stabbing out of each of her hands, two from each hand, with another pair of blades from her feet and another from her shoulders. As Trip walked up to them, the blade retracted into her skin, the cuts they’d created healing.
“Sharon, Laura,” Trip said with no emotion. “Are you done?”
The two women shared a look, then looked back at Trip. “Yes. Everyone is dead. Are you okay?” Sharon asked.
Trip scowled. “Yes. I have the chip. Laura,” the young woman cocked her head to the side. “You have someone’s blood on your cheek,” she let out a little ‘ah’ of surprise, quickly scrubbing at her face.
“Let’s go,” Trip turned and led them to the exit. “We have work to do.”
------
Agent Phil Coulson
“This is fascinating!” Mikhail lifted a single cigarette, staring at it as though it was much more than that. “What sort of power source does it use to produce the laser?”
“Simple batteries, the kind Howard Stark was developing years back,” Coulson said eagerly.
The pair were standing in Coulson’s office in the Bus, looking at the shelves behind his desk filled with old spy gear. They stood side by side as they geeked out over the tech.
“Incredible. I’ve seen similar devices in museums, but none in such good condition!” Mikhail put it down and lifted another device. “Now, I’m tempted to think you’d left a few American coins here,” he displayed a quarter, one of a couple.
“Walkie talkie,” Coulson said as an answer.
Mikhail chuckled, shaking his head. “Amazing. The best I have is an old insectocopter the CIA used.”
“The dragonfly one?” Coulson asked. “Man, I always wanted one of those.”
“Well, I would trade you, but I left mine at home,” Mikhail joked.
Coulson chuckled. Both men stepped around the desk to stand across from each other, Coulson leaning against his desk and crossing his arms. “I’ll be honest, a lot of people don’t seem to get my love of old school tech.”
“Same for me,” Mikhail chuckled. “I get jokes about, what is the word. ‘Midlife crisis’, da?”
“Yeah, I’ve gotten that sometimes,” Coulson chuckled as well.
Mikhail shook his head. “Where did you get yours? I often have to buy some from private collectors. I imagine the cigarette laser would be quite a lot.”
Here, Coulson found his good humor fading.
“Well, I did the same thing for most of my stuff. But the laser and the quarters were a gift from a friend. Someone I lost a while back.”
Mikhail gave Coulson a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Coulson scowled. “We’re working on getting him back.”
“He was captured?”
“By HYDRA, yeah.”
Mikhail hissed. “HYDRA. Animals, all of them. How are Nazis still a thing?”
“You’re asking me?” Coulson chuckled. “So how does a guy like you end up in charge of superhumans?”
“I could ask you the same,” Mikhail replied. “Not just two Avengers, but the young woman with that armor of hers?”
Coulson smirked. “Dial and Alloy are just helping. As for Skye, the armor and the martial arts are more of a recent thing.”
“Hn. Fair enough,” Mikhail hummed. “As for me, I have a… unique, understanding of superhuman individuals. I’ve been a soldier all my life as well as trained them. I know people and I know fighters. So, I volunteered… They are good people, Agent Coulson. And Fantasma has…” Mikhail winced and stopped suddenly.
After a moment, Coulson understood. Truly understood. Mikhail didn’t speak. “...Skye has really grown recently. She was raw, at first. But I’m proud of the women she’s become.”
Mikhail nodded, a soft smile on his face. “I understand.”
“I’m sure you do,” Coulson frowned. “What about Chernobog?”
Mikhail winced. “He… I don’t get all the choices I wish I could on who joins the team. Chernobog is a sacrifice, in more ways than one. But he is powerful. Power that is necessary.”
There was a tense silence in the room. Finally Mikhail hesitantly coughed.
“Well. I suppose I should go check in on my team.”
“Same,” Coulson got up from his desk. “Mind if I join you?”
“Of course, Agent Coulson.”
As they walked out, Coulson kept his thoughts to himself. But seriously. For a man who’d been training a team to be able to kill the Avengers if need be, Mikhail was very friendly.
------
Carl Cree/Alloy
“So we’re flying off to fight some guy who’s turning monkeys into super cyborg monkeys,” Creel said as he sat on a chair in the lounge, holding his phone up so the camera could see him. “I should have never left New York.”
Isabelle chuckled from his phone's screen. “What, and New York isn’t weird enough? The Naked Cowboy is still doing his thing in Time Square.”
“Yeah, not as weird as this,” Creel returned wryly.
She laughed. “But man, Russia has their own Avengers? Have you guys already been getting pissy with each other?”
“Well, Dial told me they’ve been trained to kill the other Avengers,” Creel said wryly.
Isabelle blinked. “Seriously? Does Coulson know?”
“We told him and the director,” Creel leaned back in his seat. “She told us to keep it from the rest of the team for now and do our jobs, but to also be ready to fight back if we have to. The magic one, Fantasma, she was forced to admit it.”
“Fantasma,” Isabelle mused. “Now she is just hot as hell. And she’s got a hell of an outfit. Think I’d look good in it?”
“You’d look good in anything.”
“Now that is the correct answer.”
Creel smirked.
Suddenly, Vanguard strode into the room. Creel looked up at him, then back at the phone. “I got to go babe. Talk to you later.”
“Later!” Isabelle hung up, and Creel put his phone away. As he did, Creel and Vanguard eyed each other from across the room.
“...Girlfriend?” Vanguard asked.
“Something like that,” Creel answered.
Vanguard nodded slowly. He removed his shield from his arm, placing it alongside a chair and sitting down. “I would like, Mister Creel, to settle something with you,” Vanguard, to Creel’s surprise, reached up and pulled back his mask. The man had thick black hair and brown eyes, his skin slightly lighter where the mask didn’t cover it. Creel had to wonder how often he wore the mask that it actually affected his tan.
“Okay...,” Creel leaned forward curiously.
“I am a soldier, Mister Creel, a man who works to defend the honor of my country. I protect them. Even now, as a superhuman, I continue that,” Vanguard’s eyes narrowed. “But I am also a man who likes to trust those he works with.”
“And you don’t trust me?” Creel shook his head. “What the hell did I ever do to you?”
“You are a criminal.”
“Former,” Creel growled. “I’m a former criminal. And I’ve been making my amends.”
“Amends?” Vanguard snarled. “You were a criminal, a dishonorable mудак who killed on behalf of HYDRA.”
“I was mind controlled, you colossal dick.”
“Yes, you were. But before that? How am I to fight alongside a man who cheated his way through life, took the easy route to everything?”
Creel nodded slowly. “Yeah… Yeah, that’s a really interesting question. But let me respond with this,” Creel rose up carefully. “I’ve spent everyday since I became an Avenger redeeming myself for the shit I caused. But I didn’t do it to prove something to anyone but myself. If you want me to bend over for me to work for you, I’m just not going to. I’m going to do my job. And while I’m at it, kiss my ass, you absolute fuck,” Creel couldn’t help one last dig. “At least I’m not the one working for a literal god of evil.”
He turned and walked away. Vanguard spun to his feet, reaching for his shield
with rage in his eyes.
“Nikolai!”
Creel and Vanguard stopped, turning to look. Coulson and Mikhail were standing there. Coulson looked surprised.
Mikhail, on the other hand, looked pissed off. “What are you doing?”
“Mikhail,” Vanguard said, a look of shame on his face.
“Come,” without another word, Mikhail walked away.
Vanguard scowled but immediately followed.
“Do I want to know?” Coulson asked Creel as the Russians left the room.
“Probably not,” Creel admitted.
“Hey,” Dial walked in from the direction the Russians had left in, looking confused. “What the hell just happened, Mikhail looks pissed off.”
Creel sighed in annoyance.
------
Leopold Fitz
Fitz sighed, annoyed by the sight of the words ‘Simulation Failed’ in front of him. “It’s a good thing this is a long flight because I have plenty of time to fail.”
“Well, as we say back home, Без муки нет науки,” Galina said, tapping at a tablet nearby.
Fitz looked over at her. “And that means…?”
“Hmm?” Galina looked up blinking. “Oh. Well, the literal translation is, ‘Without torture, there is no science’. The closest counterpart would be ‘no pain, no gain’.”
“‘Without torture, there is no science’… I like it,” Fitz said with a chuckle.
“Fitz?” Simmons came in with a smile. “I was wondering where you, you… who is this?” Simmons stopped, looking over at Galina. Her smile faded into confusion.
“Oh?” Fitz pointed over at Galina, then realized what was happening. “This, this is Galina.”
“Hello Simmons,” Galina said, not looking up from her tablet. The screen flashed red again. “Vot eto pizdec!”
“Okaaaaaay,” Simmons walked around to join Fitz. She whispered as soon as she was close. “Who is she?”
“The Crimson Dynamo’s pilot,” Fitz whispered back.
“Really?” Simmons sounded intrigued. And also something else he couldn’t quite read. Which was odd, because Fitz usually had a very easy time reading Simmons emotions. “I didn’t expect her to be so… well-”
“Pretty?” Fitz asked.
“Female,” Simmons looked up at him, shocked. “What did you say?”
“Nothing.”
“I thought you said-”
“Nope.”
Simmons scowled, displeased.
“‘Idi na hui’! It isn’t working!” Galina scowled, tossing her tablet onto the table.
“It’s so strange. Like something is blocking us!”
After another look Fitz couldn’t read, Simmons walked over to the tablet. “What are you trying to do?” Simmons asked. “Maybe I could help?”
Galina opened her mouth, then shrugged, walking over to join Simmons. “We are attempting to find some way to shut down the servitors. If we can affect their limbs or their cybernetics, maybe we can force them to freeze in place. But every time we try, something blocks us from the cybernetics. Or, not restarts. Reboots them?”
“Well, Kragoff is a genius,” Simmons noted. “When we were researching earlier, I noted that the mixture of vat-grown flesh and cybernetics was almost elegant. Like he’d genetically engineered the monkey flesh specifically to needthe robotics. As though one structure can’t exist without the other.”
“Hmm,” Galina took the tablet. “I have noticed that the robotics wouldn’t have worked if he hadn’t removed the organs and limbs first. But if what you say is true, maybe we need to interfere with the biological component as well.”
Fitz frowned, thinking on that as well. For some reason, every time they attempted to shut down the robotics they would just reactivate. If Simmons was right though…
“I have an idea,” Galina grabbed a different tablet and tapped at it. “If Skye can work with us on this-”
As she spoke, Mikhail walked into the lab, drawing everyone's attention. He was followed by Vanguard, who to Fitz’s surprise wasn’t wearing his mask. Mikhail walked past them with a nod to Galina, waving a hand for her to follow. She frowned, placing her tablet down and following without a word to Simmons and Fitz.
The pair of BRIDGE scientists shared a look while the Russians left.
“What was that about?” Fitz asked.
“Trouble in the ranks, maybe?” Simmons replied. “Mikhail looked rather angry.”
The two shared an uncertain look before going back to work.
------
Galina Nemirovsky/Crimson Dynamo
Galina strode after Mikhail and Nikolai. The trio stopped in a room that was likely used for basic storage, considering the cleaning products around them. As soon as the door closed behind her, Galina spoke in her native Russian.
“What happened?”
“You want to tell her?” Mikhail asked Nikolai.
“No,” Galina said firmly. “Don’t pull that bullshit, just say what the issue is, now.”
She was not someone to waste time. Time was to be spent on things of value, in the end. Not stupid back and forth ‘you want to tell her’, ‘no I don’t’, ‘you better tell her’. Stupid.
Mikhail scowled. “Fine. He was moments from attacking Alloy.”
“Why?” Galina said immediately.
Nikolai, the man who had taken the name Vanguard, hesitated. Galina nudged him, impatient. He sighed. “The man is a criminal. I don’t trust him.”
“Then don’t,” Galina said simply. “But we all have a job to do, and that includes working with him.”
“We have enough unstable elements on our team,” Nikolai looked at her, anger in his eyes. “Galina, he’s just part of the problem.”
“We’ve discussed this,” Mikhail protested.
“No, we haven’t,” Nikolai clenched his fist. “He is a monster. Not a god. And yet, we’ve been forced to accept him on our team? That unstable beast?!”
“Nikolai,” Galina said firmly.
“NO!” Nikolai slashed a hand down. “Chernobog devours life. He freely admits to killing to survive, killing for pleasure. And yet, he is rewarded?”
“You know why he’s on the team,” Mikhail said firmly. “He can absorb gamma radiation, becomes stronger from it, and his physical abilities match those of Thor. If we need to combat the Avengers-”
“I don’t care about the Avengers,” Nikolai scoffed. “We all know that the necessity of fighting them is a long shot at best.”
“Well, the men who give us funding do. And they demand that we have 'counters' to BRIDGE's superhumans,” Mikhail sighed sadly. For a tense moment, both men stared at each other.
“...My father died for this country, Mikhail,” Nikolai said, haunted. “I just want to defend it honorably. And I’m forced to work with murderers and criminals?”
“...Nikolai,” Galina said, drawing both men's attention. “Chernobog is a necessity. No, let me talk,” she interrupted before he could respond. “I agree that he’s unstable. But he has been following orders, doing his job to the best of his ability. Same with Creel. You must put aside your personal feelings. You are a soldier. Focus on the mission, and as long as those under your command do the same, then work with them.”
“And when Chernobog tries to devour our souls or Creel decides to run when things get too hard?” Nikolai said softly.
“For the first, I’ll kill him,” Galina said simply.
Nikolai and Mikhail shared a look. She rolled her eyes.
“The second I found out that he was joining us, I prepared for the moment I might need to fight him. I’m the greatest engineer in the world, I have a solution for him.”
“Greatest?” Mikhail raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that Star-” he stopped when Galina glared at him, the man chuckling.
“As for Creel, any research will tell you that he has a good record as an Avenger. You don’t have to like him but-”
“Fine,” Vanguard was staring at his shield as he spoke. The others stared at it as well.
“...I miss him as well,” Galina said softly.
“He was a good man,” Mikhail agreed.
Vanguard only nodded sadly. “For him. I’ll accept all of this for him... Reluctantly.”
------
Mahmoud Schahed/Dial
Vanguard looked like Joe Manganiello. Kraven looked like Manu Bennett. Both of whom had played Deathstroke. Did that mean something? Other than both men being very badass looking?
I had plenty of time to think it over as I stood behind the bar, making a milkshake for myself. Coulson was nice enough to get me some ice cream, milk, and bananas since I didn’t drink. I made myself a coffee milkshake this time, turning around to see Skye.
“Mind if I get one?” she asked hesitantly. She was wearing a black sweater and blue jeans, though I could see her armor standing on the other side of the room.
After a moment, I nodded. “Yeah, of course. If you like coffee, I mean?”
“I love it,” she watched as I poured the milkshakes into glasses. “This is all so weird, right? Super monkeys and Russian Avengers, I mean.”
“Is it that weird?” I handed her a cup. “I mean, we spent a lot of time fighting dinosaurs and all that in Rio.”
“You did,” Skye corrected. “I was mostly hacking computers and phones. Still, that is a good point. When did life get so crazy?”
“May 4th, 2012,” I smirked. “When aliens fell out of the sky.”
“Oh, right,” she sipped at her drink, then winced. “Too many bananas.”
I took a sip as well and shrugged. “I like it.”
Skye leaned back in the seat in front of the bar. She looked thoughtful Coming upon an idea, I picked up a rag and started wiping it down. “You know, I don’t drink. But people tell me talking to bartenders helps.”
She laughed. “Helps with what?”
“Hell if I know, I usually talk to my friends,” I said with a shrug.
“Well… I’m just a little nervous. This will be the first mission we’ve been on in a while without full Avengers support. Or BRIDGE soldiers. It’s just us.”
“And the Winter Guard. And me and Creel,” I reminded her.
“You know the battle plan,” she responded. “I’m probably going to have to fight. For real, this time. And I don’t know if I’m ready…”
I put a straw in my drink, shaking my head. “Hey, none of us know. But you’ve been getting your ass kicked right next to me for the past few weeks.”
“Oh yeah,” Skye’s brown eyes flashed with mirth. “Nat and Steve are mean.”
“Ruby doesn’t help. Getting my ass kicked in training by that mean midget is the highlight of my day,” I sipped at my milkshake slowly.
“...Is this awkward? Me and you, like this?” Skye asked uncomfortably.
I stopped sipping my drink, placing it in between us. “Are we still friends?”
“Of course we are,” she said without thinking.
I couldn’t help my relief at that. Ridiculous, that I’d be relieved about that as though it was in question, but I still felt it.
“Awkward is fine. Means we cared enough that we were worried,” I held out a hand placing it on one of hers. She smiled down at our joined hands. “Whatever happens, I’m your friend. And I’ll always have your back. Okay?”
She turned her hand in mine, gripping it. “Yeah. Thanks, Mahmoud.”
I smiled. For some reason, I felt like, like something had been released then. I pulled my hand back and sighed. It was a sigh of relief. Like something that had been tight in my chest for a while finally released. There was just another thing I had to do. But that would have to wait till I got back home.
------
“How long until we get there?” Fantasma asked later. The young Russian woman was leaning back in her chair, Chernobog roaming around us while I passed her a drink, one I’d poured from a bottle I noticed her eyeing. Didn’t know what the drink was, but she seemed pleased with it, so I must have guessed right.
“Should be about fifteen minutes,” I told her. “We’ll land in the forest outside the base. I figured, since the three of us are team 3, we might as well talk.”
“That is so nice of you,” Chernobog said softly, just behind me. “Although, I wonder why you didn’t offer me a drink.”
“Because you don’t. Drink. Wine,” I said softly.
“...Heh. Dracula,” Chernobog smiled. “One of many things I love about this new world. So much pleasant entertainment.”
“Yeah, you seem like a real nerd,” I returned. “Seriously, tall, dark, and freaky, you want something?”
“Blood,” I raised an eyebrow. “...y Mary,” he grinned as he said that.
“Well, I don’t know how to mix that, so,” I waved at the bar. He let out a dismissive snort, walking around to the bar. Fantasma looked between us while sipping at the drink I’d given her. “You know, you’re real friendly sometimes.
Why do you switch between that and being a manipulative asshole?”
He chuckled, somehow grabbing the ingredients he needed with finesse despite his massive hands. “Well, I said it before. I love this new world. So much more fun. I love seeing all the little ways people act out.”
“So you’re a troll,” I said simply.
The darkness shrugged, apparently unoffended. Fantasma, on the other hand, frowned.
“A troll? Like the mystical creature?”
I thought of Ulik.
“Not so mystical,” I said with a scowl before shaking my head. “But in American culture, a troll is someone who acts like an asshole specifically to get a reaction.”
Fantasma let out a little ‘ah’ of understanding. “Troll. Makes sense.”
“Only for a purpose,” Chernobog came back to us. “I rarely go on rampages anymore, so I get my kicks elsewhere,” he sat down next to me, placing a massive arm on my shoulders. I pushed him off, got up, and moved to a different chair, getting a mock pout for my troubles. Fuck me, even his pouting was horrifying. “Actually, if I ever get to visit America I’m going to do some sightseeing.”
I frowned at the sudden change in topic. “Okay?”
He chugged back his drink, tossing the glass aside when he was done. “Oh yes. Look,” from out of nowhere, he handed me a paper list. I looked over at Fantasma, who seemed as confused as I felt, before hesitantly grabbing it and reading it.
“...This is nothing but places in different states named Bald Mountain.”
He gave me a toothy grin. “Well, after watching Fantasia I can’t help but laugh, thinking of how people will react to me showing up. Even downloaded the song.”
I opened and closed my mouth. “I...Damnit, I don’t know if that’s hilarious or cruel.”
“Can’t I be both?”
Fantasma rolled her eyes. “You really are-”
Boom!
The whole plane shook suddenly, sending us all tumbling. I got up to my feet at the same time as the others. “What the hell was-”
An explosion came from the wall behind me. I shouted a wordless scream as I was sucked out of the plane.
For a breathless moment, I tumbled through the air. The stars and clouds were replaced by the ground, then came back, around and around.
“FUUUUUUUU-” I kept shouting as I reached for the Omnitrix. Still screaming, I flipped through the menu. For a breathless moment, I had to fight off the urge to just smack the Omnitrix. Instead, I pushed it down.
My skin was replaced with soft black and blue spots, like that of a moth. I unfurled my wings with a shout, my descent slowing until I was floating thousands of feet in the air.
“Big Chill!”
I stared up at the plane. Its lights were flickering. I could see strange figures buzzing around the Bus, purple lights flashing from them as they ripped into it. “What the hell was that?”
“Dial!” Fantasma floated down to join me. “You’re okay!”
“Same to you!” I said back. “Didn’t know you could fly!”
Fantasma’s boots were surrounded by purple sparks, making it look like she was somehow dancing on air. She looked up as darkness floated down to join us.
“That was fun,” Chernobog was somehow standing on nothing, the way Soul Reapers from Bleach did, helped by a pair of bat wings he unfurled from his back. Wings he’d had no indication that he had before. He looked up at the plane. “Ah… food.”
“Come on!” I shot upwards, Fantasma and Chernobog following. “This fight ain’t over!”
As we flew up, Fantasma came along to my right, her boots releasing sparks at a faster pace. She had to yell to be heard over the wind of the chill Russian skies. “You think it’s servitors?!”
“Does it really matter?” I asked with a look toward her.
Fantasma frowned. “I suppose it doesn’t!”
“-Dial! This is Coulson, can you hear me?!” the Omnitrix symbol on my chest shouted.
“I’m here!” I shouted back.
“Thank god!” Skye yelled through the Omnitrix as well.
“We’re under assault by unknown aerial enemies!” Coulson shouted. “I’m going to fight back with the cannon turrets. Skye and Dynamo will join you in the air! We need to take these things out and land as soon as possible.”
“See you soon!” with that I charged forward.
The enemies flying about the Bus seemed to notice, because a bunch of them spun in the air, spinning to come toward us.
“Lunch!” Cherobog barked. Weirdly, unlike the last time he’d spoken in his real voice, I felt nothing.
The enemies came close enough that I could finally see them. A face of metallic fangs and fuzz, eyes of flickering light as tiny arms ending in tubes aimed at us. They had wings of metal and rockets set into their backs. And they were babies. Very clearly baby apes.
“Cherubim servitors. Baby servitors,” I realized. “Dude has problems,” I mumbled in reference to Kragoff. Before I could say anything else, the flying monkeys with lasers were firing at us.
I quickly went intangible, letting the shots pass through me. I flew through one of the monkeys, freezing it in mid-air, then spun around while going tangible. I raised my hands and blasted out two beams from my palms, freezing another monkey, going intangible again when a monkey flew down to blast me. When I fired back at it, our shots met in mid-air.
According to Tony and Fitz, plasma shots tended to be ionized gas that was fired through magnetic fields with extremely hot temperatures, unless I was way misremembering. Whatever the case, when plasma met a beam that could freeze anything instantaneously, it exploded.
“The wicked witch gave you some upgrades!” I shouted at my opponent.
The monkey only fired another beam. I tucked my wings in and dive away from it, unfurling my moth wings again to fire at it and freeze it.
Fantasma raised her hands and made some elegant hand motions, another purple mandala coming to life in front of her. Several servitors fired at her, their plasma shots making ripples across the mandala shield with no effect. She clenched her fists, clapped them together, then swirled them outward, a sword of violet fire appearing in her left hand. With an intricate flowing motion of her right fingers, she let out a blast that flew through her mandala, knocking a servitor out of the air. When one flew around her shield, she slashed at it, cutting an arm off, then blasted it again.
Chernobog was nowhere near as elegant.
“Hehehe!” he charged forward, ignoring the plasma shots tearing into his form. He opened his mouth wide, and something flew out of one of the servitors, a ghostly wailing figure. The servitor shuddered in place, still firing, but somehow with none of the energy of the others. The wailing ghost flew into Chernobog’s mouth. He swallowed. “Hm. Artificial, mangled and stillborn. Not the least bit filling," he smiled. “But I don’t mind overeating!”
With that, he roared forward, grabbing a monkey out of the air and digging his teeth into it. Sparks flew, blood and viscera pouring down his gold chest armor in streams, the sound of him eating sickening. It didn't help that he was still joking around. “Um num, num, num!”
“Take them out and get to the Bus!” I shouted, diving aside from another plasma shot. I flew to go back to back with Fantasma. We rotated together, me firing at anything that came towards her back while she protected mine. I blasted a monkey, then froze another plasma shot to explode it. The monkey I froze was about to fall to the ground far below before Chernobog grabbed it and took a bit.
“Mmm, like ice cream,” he said pleasantly, diving through the air to claw at another.
“Hurry up!” I shouted at him, breathing out a cold mist before continuing. “We need to join the others!”
“Agreed!” Fantasma slashed out at a monkey, cursing when she missed. Chernobog flew by and tackled the servitor she’d missed, tearing it apart in a spray of blood and oil as black teeth tore through red flesh. Fantasma waved a hand and blasted another servitor apart. “Come on!”
Flying together, we charged upwards, fighting our way toward the Bus.