Titans: Snowballs and Hellfire

[Cazzik]

DIAZ RESIDENTS
NATIONAL CITY, CALIFORNIA

Marco Diaz woke up, gasping for air. Cold sweat ran down the sides of his face. It took him a moment to realize he was still in his room, in his bed. He calmed his breathing and he could hear his Abuela's television show still going. She was probably asleep in her chair like most nights. He looked over at his clock; just passed midnight. He laid his head back down on his pillow, attempting to get the nightmare out of his mind, the same nightmare he had been having for weeks now. It wasn't stopping, only becoming more vivid. The worst of it was, that he was no longer sure if it had actually happened or not.

He had been walking to the bus stop, late at night. He had been studying at the university library until it closed so he hit a 24-hour diner for some coffee and to finish up his reading. He had nearly been to his destination. He would've hopped the bus and been home 30 minutes later. That's not what had happened. He'd been jumped. Five, maybe six guys. They beat the hell out of him and attempted to rob him. When they realized Marco didn't have anything of value on him except for a few bucks they really laid into him.....until the old man arrived.

Marco could tell he was Hispanic and looked rough. Like real rough. The guy had seen some shit but he moved like no one should be able to move at that age. He kicked the crap out of the muggers and sent them running. The old man stared down at Marco for a moment before starting to turn to walk away. Marco could hear him muttering under his breath, "Him? Are you sure? Once it's done, that's it."

The man nodded and turned back to the kid on the pavement. He reached out a hand to help him up and when Marco took it the old man jerked him to his feet and close to his face. For a split second, every night before he wakes up, Marco stares into those empty sockets full of fire.

**********

SUNRISE VISTA INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT
NATIONAL CITY

It was just after midnight and Ryan had finally collected his baggage and was headed out of the airport to grab his ride and head into the city. He stepped out of the automatic doors and stopped short as he saw the multiple emergency lights bouncing against the angry glow of a raging fire in the distance. Something big had happened, and very recently. He attempted to contact Oracle for information but the system wasn't responding. This was odd but nothing he could look into right at the moment. Ryan was exhausted but he needed to get downtown and see if anyone needed help. This wasn't Gotham but he was still Nightwing.

As he climbed into the cab he looked up as a silver figure soared through the sky, leaving a trail of ember colors behind her as she swiftly made her way towards the event. Ryan smiled, "I'll see you in a few, Steel."

[Cazzik]

Steel assisted the fire crews in putting out the flames while police officers secured the perimeter. She stood on the asphalt, examining the melted roads, lamp posts, and cars all around her. Glass from shattered shop windows sprinkled the area. Beneath the mask Zoe Hudson, daughter of the late Natasha Irons, frowned as she continued to scan the vicinity for any clues that would lead her and the authorities to the person responsible. So far, nothing helpful, though she had picked up the individual on the rooftop looking down at them for the last several minutes. Her telemetry showed that, as far as she could tell, he was human, not meta. Steel looked up at the figure and magnified her vision.....Nightwing. What the hell was he doing here?

She launched into the air and flew directly towards her old flame. She landed on the roof alongside him and stared into his eyes beneath his mask, "You're a long way from Gotham City. What are you doing here?"

Nightwing shrugged, "Good to see you too. I just arrived. In town on civilian business and saw the commotion. What's going on?"

She stared at him for a long moment. They hadn't seen each other since they broke up. This just felt awkward, "We don't know. Every night for weeks something or someone has been ripping through the streets. Whoever it is, they're fast and they leave melted roads and cars in their wake. I haven't been able to track them down. By the time I arrive they're always gone."

Nightwing looked back down at the destruction below, "Maybe a Flash?"

Zoe shook her head, "Not likely. Individuals wielding the Speed Force don't generally leave an inferno behind them. They're a little more lightning centric, you know?"

He shrugged, "Yeah, that's a fair point. You're sure it's a meta?"

"I guess anything is possible. Could be technology based but I'm certain I would have been able to track that by now. I'm pretty positive it's a meta or a mutant. Either way, it's only a matter of time before this joyrider hurts someone. I need to find them."

Nightwing stood up and turned to face her, "Joyrider....."

As he looked back down at the streets her eyes narrowed, "What are you thinking?"

"Well, I've never encountered one but, maybe it's a Ghost Rider."

[Mir]

Her cell phone rang and Kenzie wondered if this was the uber driver. She was running late and she had to get to the airport, but she was barely finished packing. Her flight to Venice was leaving in the next few hours and international travel was already a pain. She had sworn she was going to get up on time but she had definitely snoozed her alarm one too many times.

She ran around her apartment in National City, trying to remember where she had left her phone. You’d think that the noise would have been some kind of indicator, but it really wasn’t. Luckily, the two bedroom apartment wasn’t that big and she found it underneath a few magazines she had been going through for different ideas.

Staring at the phone, she wondered why her grandfather was calling her. Didn’t make any sense. She sent it to voicemail, deciding she would call him back when she was waiting in the airport.

No sooner had she set the phone back down, thinking to herself how she really needed to charge it, but the line started ringing again. Now a little cross, she answered it.

“Pop pops, I’m in the middle of something.”

“That’s for sure.” Her grandfather said. “I need you to look at something, as soon as you can.” He said.

“I will do exactly that,” She said, holding the phone with her shoulder as she looked around the apartment for her handbag, “once I get back from Venice.” She finished, spying the handbag and heading over there to make sure she had remembered to put her passport in there.

“Venice? What’s in Venice?” He asked. “It can wait. I need you to come to the house, now.” He said.

“Now?” She asked.

“Now.” He said.

“Is something wrong?” She asked, pausing for a moment to finally listen to her grandfather.

The tone of voice had been urgent and she hadn’t picked up on it, considering how disarrayed she was. This, she had been reliably told by many an ex-boyfriend, was a habit of hers. Being disarrayed, not failing to properly listen. Though, when you were usually out of sorts about things, you tended to have more than one thing on your mind, making you not an active listener.

“I’m not sure yet. I need you to look at this artifact I have, it’s acting up and-”

“Pop pops, I don’t understand what you’re talking about. I don’t have time for this. I need to get on a plane to Venice.”

“Venice can wait, Kenzie.” He said and there was an edge to his voice. “You need to get here, now.” He added.

[Cazzik]

Marco watched as his Abuela Maria walked through the living room, headed to her bedroom. He had woke her up and she had kissed him on the forehead as she had always done before scuttling off to continue her slumber. Marco watched her go and then stepped into the small kitchen to grab a glass of water, noticing his sister, Ana Lucia, was not home from her shift at the hospital yet. Must be a busy night in the ER. He finished his water and walked back into the living room to turn off the television and return to his own bedroom. As he lifted the remote off of Maria's tv tray his thoughts were interrupted by a late night, breaking news story.

"Authorities are asking that everyone avoid the immediate area surrounding Federal Stadium. Despite increased police presence in the city, the metahuman responsible for melting roads and property has still not been apprehended. First responders and clean up crews are on site around the stadium, putting out fires and attending to injuries. National City's armored hero, Steel, was also seen in the vicinity working with police and fire crews....."

Marco just stared at the television, honing in on the damage that had been caused. This was at least the third time he had witnessed a news story about this metahuman wreaking havoc at the exact same time he was asleep and desperately trying to wake up during his recurring nightmare. Could the two events possibly be linked or was it just a crazy coincidence?

[Nichalus]

Meanwhile in Eagle Pass, TX...

Mia sat on the edge of a crumbling sidewalk, her back against the weathered brick wall of a forgotten building in Eagle Pass, Texas. The small border town, with its dusty streets and endless horizon, felt like the end of the world. It was a place where people came and went, where the wind carried the stories of those who had crossed the border, seeking a better life or running from something behind them. For Mia, it was both—a place to escape and a place she could disappear in.

She pulled her hoodie tighter around her, the fabric torn and dirty from nights spent sleeping under overpasses and in the alleys behind convenience stores. The jeans she wore were stained with mud, the knees ripped open from too many falls, both literal and figurative. Her journey to Eagle Pass hadn’t been planned; she just kept walking, taking rides when she could, until she ended up in this border town.

At seventeen, Mia had already seen more than she should have.

Eagle Pass was a place where the lines between the United States and Mexico blurred, where cultures mixed and clashed. For some, it was a stepping stone to a new beginning. For Mia, it was a place where she could blend into the background, unnoticed, unseen. The border was close, just across the Rio Grande. Every day, she watched people on the move—migrants crossing, border patrol officers scanning the horizon, and locals going about their lives. They all had purpose, a direction. Mia, however, felt adrift.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the border, Mia sat by a taco stand, her hoodie pulled low over her face. She watched as families gathered, sharing meals, laughing together, living lives that seemed so far from her own reality. An older woman, standing behind the counter of the stand, noticed her. Without a word, she packed up a taco, handed it to Mia, and gave her a soft smile.

Mia hesitated. She wasn’t used to kindness without a price. But the woman’s eyes were gentle, filled with understanding. “Everyone needs a little help sometimes,” the woman said in Spanish, her voice warm and kind.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Mia felt seen. She took the taco, muttering a quiet "gracias." As she ate, the flavors rich and comforting, she let herself believe—just for a moment—that maybe she wasn’t completely lost. Maybe, in this town on the edge of two countries, she could find a way to start again.

Mia's moment of peace was shattered the instant she spotted him. Her heart raced, and her body tensed as she watched Pablo's familiar figure weave through the crowded market. He was a man of routine, a predator in the shadows of Eagle Pass, and she knew his habits better than she wished. His walk was casual, almost leisurely, but Mia knew better. Pablo was on the prowl, his eyes scanning the young and desperate, the ones who thought they had found hope in his promises.

She’d been tracking him for days, staying hidden in the shadows, biding her time. Pablo was slick—he blended in with the locals, a charming smile for the unsuspecting, a soft voice that promised safety to those who had none. He offered them escape, a way out, only to pull them into a nightmare they couldn’t escape. Girls like Mia, who had nowhere else to turn, were his easiest prey. He promised them a better life, jobs, food, a roof over their heads. And once he had them in his grip, he sold them to the highest bidder, forcing them into a dark underworld of exploitation.

Mia knew his game all too well. She had barely escaped his clutches herself months ago. At first, he had seemed like a savior when she arrived in Eagle Pass, starving and scared. He had been kind, offered her a meal, even listened to her story without judgment. But something about him had felt off, a darkness lurking behind his carefully crafted facade. She had seen the way he looked at her—like a commodity, not a person.

She had overheard the rumors. Girls disappearing. Boys too. All of them young, alone, vulnerable. And Pablo was always nearby, his name whispered in fear by those who knew the truth. Mia had been lucky enough to slip away before he could sink his claws into her. But others hadn’t been so fortunate.

Now, she was waiting for her moment, not to run but to strike. Mia had seen enough in her life to know that if she didn’t stop him, more kids like her would fall into his trap. But this wasn’t just about vengeance—it was survival. She had to make sure no one else was forced into the same hell she barely escaped from.

Pablo paused by a street vendor, chatting easily with the man behind the counter, his eyes occasionally drifting toward a group of teenage girls nearby. Mia’s fists clenched. She knew that look, the way he sized them up, calculating their desperation. He’d charm them, offer them something better, and once they trusted him, he’d drag them into a life they couldn’t break free from.

Mia took a deep breath, her mind racing. She was small, frail looking, but she had something Pablo didn’t know: she was 'much' more than what she appeared to be.

Pablo had no idea that today would be his last day. The sun was setting over Eagle Pass, casting long shadows over the town, but a different kind of darkness was closing in on him—a darkness he couldn't outrun.

As Pablo lingered near the alley, a smug smile playing on his lips, Mia moved with silent precision. The blades slid out from between her knuckles, glinting faintly under the dim streetlights. They felt familiar in her hands, an extension of her own resolve. This was a moment she had dreamed about, planned for, replayed in her mind a hundred times over. The fear that had once gripped her was gone, replaced by a cold, unshakable determination. Pablo had taken too much from too many. Tonight, he would pay.

She kept her distance, but her eyes never left him. He didn’t notice her, not yet. She had the advantage of being one of the invisible ones, a ghost among the lost.

But tonight, Mia wouldn’t be a ghost. She would be the reckoning he never saw coming.

As Pablo moved deeper into the alley, his attention focused on his next victims, Mia quietly followed. Her heart pounded, not from fear, but from the anticipation of what was to come. She had to stop him. Not just for herself, but for every kid like her who believed in the false promises of men like Pablo.

He stopped at a dimly lit doorway as his cell phone beeped, Mia approached, silent as the night around her. Pablo hung up the phone, completely unaware of the storm about to break over him.

This was it. This was her chance.

And she wasn’t going to let him ruin any more lives.

Pablo shifted his weight, glancing up and down the street, oblivious to the figure lurking just steps behind him. Mia’s eyes locked onto him, her vision narrowing, her body ready to strike. She had waited for this moment for so long, every fiber of her being screaming for revenge. But this wasn’t just about her. It was for every girl Pablo had deceived, every life he had ruined.

Without warning, Mia moved. Her blades cut through the air with deadly precision as she lunged toward him, her body a blur of motion. Pablo barely had time to turn before she was on him, the first blades of her right hand sliced across his arm as he raised it in a panicked attempt to defend himself.

He let out a shout of pain, stumbling backward, his eyes wide with shock. “You!” he spat, recognizing her instantly. His voice dripped with disbelief and rage. "I should’ve finished you when I had the chance!"

Mia didn’t respond. There was no need for words. Her eyes, cold and unyielding, said everything she needed to. She wasn’t the scared girl he had tried to break. She was something else now, something stronger, something dangerous.

Pablo lunged at her, but Mia was faster. She ducked beneath his wild swing, her blades flashing again, this time cutting deep into his side. He gasped, his hand flying to the wound as blood began to pour through his fingers. The arrogance in his eyes flickered, replaced by fear.

“You think you’re a hero?” Pablo wheezed, stumbling back, his breath ragged. “You’re just a broken girl—nothing but a freak without me!”

Mia stepped forward, her claws protruding from her knuckles, as she circled him like a wolf closing in on its prey. "Maybe I was broken," she said, her voice steady and calm, "but not anymore."

With a swift movement, she drove the claws from both hands into his chest. Pablo’s eyes went wide, a gurgled breath escaping his lips as the strength drained from his body. He staggered, his back hitting the wall behind him, his knees giving way as he slid to the ground, his hands weakly grasping at the blade lodged in his chest.

He stared up at her, his face a mixture of pain and disbelief. For the first time in his life, Pablo was powerless.

Mia knelt beside him, her claws retracting back into her hands and the wounds they created quickly healed, as if they had never been damaged, her voice quiet but resolute. "This is for every life you destroyed. For every person you hurt. You’ll never hurt anyone again."

Pablo tried to speak, but no words came. His eyes dimmed, his body slumping as the last of his life slipped away.

Mia stood, looking down at the lifeless body in front of her. The man who had caused so much suffering, who had ruined so many lives, was gone. The night was quiet now, the only sound the distant hum of the city. She wiped her bloody knuckles clean on his shirt, then turned and walked away, disappearing into the shadows.

For the first time in months, Mia felt a strange sense of calm. She wasn’t sure what tomorrow would bring, but one thing was certain—she had taken back control of her life. Pablo was dead, and with him, the fear that had once consumed her.

Now, she was free.

[Nichalus]

Westbound and Down...

Mia sat with her legs dangling from the open door of the boxcar, the cool night air whipping past her as the train sped west from Eagle Pass. The stars above shimmered like scattered diamonds across the black sky, offering a strange sense of comfort in their timelessness. The world around her felt vast and empty, but also peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos that had defined her life for so long.

She reached into the side pocket of her worn backpack, her fingers brushing past a few crumpled belongings before finding what she was looking for. She pulled out the small, folded photograph—her younger self, no older than twelve, beaming with innocence and joy. Her hair was neatly braided, her eyes wide and filled with hope. It was a version of herself that seemed so distant now, as if it belonged to someone else entirely.

Mia stared at the picture, the smile on the girl’s face almost mocking her. That was before everything had gone wrong—before the experiments, before she became something darker, something stronger, but broken in ways that couldn’t be mended. The experiments had changed her, not just physically but emotionally, tearing apart the girl she had been and leaving behind the teenager she was now.

She could still remember the sterile white rooms, the cold hands of doctors and scientists, their voices clinical and detached as they discussed her like she was nothing more than a lab rat. They promised she was special, that the things they were doing would make her stronger, better, invincible even. But all she felt now was hollow.

The blades that now rested hidden beneath her forearm were a constant reminder of the cost she had paid. They had given her the power to fight back, to survive, but they had also taken something from her—something far deeper. She had been chosen for a reason, they told her, but the reason no longer mattered. The experiments were meant to turn her into a weapon, and in many ways, they had succeeded. But Mia was no one’s weapon now. She had broken free from their control, even if the damage they had done to her was irreversible.

The scientists had marveled at her ability to heal, calling it a "miracle of biology," though she knew better. It was no miracle. It was a curse. Every time she should have died, her body refused to let go, forcing her to survive in a world that had no mercy. Even now, sitting in the darkness, she could feel that constant hum inside her, a reminder that no wound could truly stop her, no matter how deep.

It wasn’t just physical pain she had learned to endure—it was the knowledge that she could keep going, long after her body had given out. The power had saved her life more times than she could count, but it had also set her apart, isolating her from anyone who could understand what she had become.

As the train sped through the night, she wondered if there would ever be a time when her healing wouldn’t feel like a burden. When she wasn’t just a survivor, but something more—someone who could live without the constant shadow of violence and the reminder that, while she couldn’t be killed, it didn’t mean she wasn’t broken in other ways.

She let the photo flutter in her hand for a moment, feeling a pang of sadness for the girl she used to be. That girl had believed in the goodness of the world. She had dreamed of a future filled with possibilities. But the future she had found was darker, marked by betrayal, violence, and survival at any cost.

Mia slipped the photo back into her backpack, her jaw tightening as she pushed the memories aside. The night stretched out before her, endless and quiet, as the train continued its journey through the desert. She was heading west, toward Phoenix, a place she had only heard about in whispers back at the laboratory. The scientists hadn’t intended for her to know, but Mia had learned to listen when they thought she wasn’t paying attention. She had overheard them talk about other children, others like her, who had been taken to Phoenix for similar experiments.

Some of the stories were haunting. Kids younger than her, torn from their families, subjected to cruel tests in the name of science. The idea of being part of a “new generation of evolution,” they had said. But Mia knew better. It wasn’t about evolution; it was about control. About creating people who could be used, manipulated, and weaponized. They didn’t care about the children they experimented on. They cared about what those children could do, and how they could profit from it.

Mia’s hands curled into fists as she thought about it. If there were others like her, they needed to know they weren’t alone. And if they were still trapped in the hands of those who had experimented on her, she would find them. She would free them.

She looked down at her fists, and then slowly flexing her fingers slightly, feeling the sharp edges of the blades beneath her skin. The experiments had turned her into something else, something dangerous—but maybe that was what she needed to be to survive in a world like this. She had already taken down Pablo, the man who had preyed on so many, and now she was free.

But freedom came with a price. She was still learning what it meant to carry this power, to wield it without losing herself completely. She had no idea what lay ahead, but she knew one thing for certain: she wasn’t the same girl in the photograph. That version of Mia was gone, replaced by someone who could fight back, who wouldn’t be prey to anyone ever again.

As the train roared through the night, Mia closed her eyes for a moment, listening to the hum of the wheels beneath her. The stars continued to shine, indifferent to her struggles, but she found a strange kind of solace in their distance. They were a reminder that the world was vast, and maybe—just maybe—there was a place out there where she could finally find peace.

But for now, if there were others like her, they needed to know they weren’t alone. And if they were still trapped in the hands of those who had experimented on her, she would find them. She would free them.

[Mir]

Kenzie stepped out of the Uber and walked up the flight of steps to the front door of her grandfather’s three story house. The building itself was slim, but it was deep. The property was fairly large, and she had really fond memories of visiting when she was a kid. She remembered that there was some point where she stopped visiting as much. Kenzie couldn’t really pinpoint how many years it had been, how old she had been. There had been some kind of argument. Her mom had been pretty in favor of continuing to visit, but her dad had put his foot down.

Regardless, it had taken some time to repair the bridges that had been damaged. She had been the one who had done that. She had never asked her grandfather what the argument had been about, and he had never volunteered the information.

She was going to knock on the door, when it opened.

She smiled down at her Pop Pops, sitting in his wheelchair. It paid to be wealthy sometimes and this was one of those times. Her grandfather’s wheelchair wasn’t really a wheelchair per se. Highly motorized it actually hovered a little bit. She had been reliably told it had been a gift from a company for something or other.

“Pop Pops.” She said, giving him a warm smile. She bent down and kissed him on the cheek. “Now what the hell is so important that I had to miss my flight to Venice?” She asked. “I’m an in-demand model or at least I’m trying to be.”

“Come with me, you’ll see.” He said, turning and starting down the hallway. “Also language. Your mother would not appreciate such words.”

Her mother had died a few years prior and she was pretty sure her mom wouldn’t care at this point. It didn’t make sense to bring it up though. With a sigh, she rose and followed him down the hallway.

“My equipment started going off the other day and I was trying to figure out what was the cause.” He said.

“Equipment?” She asked, getting more confused than she had been on the phone not too long ago. “What are you talking about?” She asked. She spared a glance at the pictures on the brick walls. The faces were so familiar to her. Her family. There was even a picture or two of her, from when she was super little.

He stopped at a door that led down towards a part of the basement.

She realized after a moment this was a door she hadn’t been allowed to open when she had been little.

He shifted in the chair, looking towards her. He suddenly looked rather old, Kenzie realized. Sure, he was old, very old in fact. However, she had never really thought of him that way. Now, at this moment, she could see it. The lines on his face, the eyes that told a story of the passage of time. His mouth, thinned and resolute. There was something here.

“Kenzie, there’s something I need to tell you. Something I need to show you. It’s…it’s what caused the argument between myself and your parents all those years ago.”

She crouched next to him. There was worry on his face, apprehension as well. She ran a hand through her hair. “Pop pops, you’re scaring me now.” She said.

“That’s part of what I’m afraid of.” He said. He turned towards the door and then turned back to her.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me.” Kenzie said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Probably easier if I show you.” He said, pressing a button on the wheelchair.

The door to the basement opened and they went down there. Her eyes widened as her feet touched the basement floor. This was completely different from everything else in the house. Filled with servers and different pieces of technology this basement was more at home in some university than her grandfather’s basement.

Speaking of her grandfather, he headed over to a console connected to a large monitor on the wall with an air of familiarity she was not quite comfortable with.

“A few days ago a meteorite landed in the bay.” He said. “You probably missed it on the news. But the metal signature is one that I’ve seen before. It’s Thanagarian, at least that’s what my readings tell me.”

“Thana-whatian?” She asked, as images of the meteorite showed up on the screen.

“Thanagarian.” He said. He went over to a crate set up on one of the tables. It was taking up one of the only free spaces on a surface anywhere in the room. He flipped the locks on the wooden crate and opened it.

Inside was straw and nestled on top of it, where three items. Two bracelets of some sort, and a mace. This day was getting weirder and weirder. “Okay, what’s going on?” He asked.

“I need you to inspect that meteorite.” He said. “We need to know if it’s actually Thanagarian. It’d be the first nth metal seen on this planet in decades.” The look on his face was one where he was deliberating something crushing him. He nodded slowly and then leaned forward.

Wings appeared on his back, unfurling from somewhere.

“Thanagarian.” He said.

[Mir]

One Week Ago
New York City

Asho stood on the balcony of the spacious apartment. The wind of New York was picking up, and she breathed it in. She had been outside of Wakanda before, but not like this. She looked out over what was called the concrete jungle. She found it not unlike the jungle home in Wakanda. There was so much activity, so much life. Keeping track of it all was difficult. She didn’t envy the hunters of this concrete jungle.

The hunters which would soon include her cousin. She turned as he walked out onto the balcony to join her.

“Je’von, are you ready?” She asked.

He nodded as he reached the railing and stood next to her. “I am, cousin.” He said. “The reports of vibranium in New York are not to be taken lightly and I will do no such thing.”

She nodded. “Remember that is what you’re here for. But you are also here to be a student at Midtown Magnet.” Asho said. “We had to pull a few strings in order to ensure you were sent to the school. Yes, it’s part of a cover, but it’s also a good school. You will learn.” Asho said.

“Getting good grades has never been a problem for me, Asho.”

She smiled and reached a hand out, ruffling his hair slightly. “No, it hasn’t been. But don’t forget the most important thing, even if my brother has forgotten it.”

He looked at her.

“Don’t forget to be a kid. Get in trouble.” She said and he grinned. Her eyes flared. “But not too much trouble.” She looked back out over the city. “I will return to visit. For now, I must head to Phoenix, Arizona.”

“Arizona?” He asked.

“There has been another report of vibranium showing up where it shouldn’t. Potentially it was brought into the United States through South America. I will get the answers when I hold the vibranium in my hands.” Asho stated. She reached out and brought her cousin in for a hug. “I will see you soon.”

==-==

Now
Phoenix, AZ

It was much warmer in Phoenix than it was in New York. Not only that, it was dry heat. She was used to a certain amount of humidity in the air, but this, this was a bit unbearable. She wore leggings, a white tank and a black lightweight jacket. Walking down the steps of the Wakandan jet, she looked at the vehicle the advance team had provided for her.

Good, she would need mobility.

Now to see what she could find out.

[Nichalus]

Phoenix, AZ...

Mia’s heart pounded in her chest as she clung to the undercarriage of the truck, her body pressed tight against the cold metal. The ground rumbled as the convoy’s engines idled at the gate, the sound of boots crunching gravel nearby as the security team went about their checks. She stayed perfectly still, hidden in the shadows beneath the truck, barely daring to breathe.

The laboratory compound loomed ahead, shrouded in the darkness of the desert night, the tall cement walls giving it the appearance of a fortress. This was the place she had heard about—the place where children like her had been taken, experimented on, and turned into something unrecognizable. The thought made her stomach turn, but she pushed it down. She had to focus. She was here for a reason.

The security guards moved methodically, checking each vehicle with a precision that told her they weren’t just ordinary guards. These were professionals—military, maybe even mercenaries. Mia watched them from her hidden vantage point, waiting for the right moment to move.

The gate ahead buzzed as it slowly slid open, the heavy steel creaking as the convoy was cleared to enter. Mia tightened her grip as the truck jerked forward, pulling her closer to the heart of the compound. Her muscles ached from holding herself in place, but she ignored the discomfort. She had come too far to stop now.

The truck rolled through the gate, the tall cement walls rising up around her as they entered the compound. Mia craned her neck, trying to get a better look at her surroundings without revealing herself. Rows of low, unmarked buildings stretched out in the distance, connected by narrow roads lit by dim, industrial lights. Armed guards patrolled the perimeter, their rifles slung across their backs, their eyes scanning the area with cold efficiency.

Mia knew the trucks would stop soon, and when they did, she had to move fast. She waited, counting each second in her head, her body tense and ready. The convoy continued deeper into the compound, past rows of buildings and warehouses, until finally, the truck slowed to a stop. The sound of voices filled the air as the drivers exited their vehicles and the guards began their routine check of the area.

This was it.

Mia carefully slid down from the undercarriage, landing silently on the gravel beneath her. She crouched low, keeping to the shadows as she moved away from the truck, her eyes darting around to make sure she hadn’t been seen. The guards were busy, their attention focused on unloading the convoy. She used the distraction to her advantage, slipping between the buildings and staying out of sight.

She needed to find the main lab, the place where the experiments were conducted. It wouldn’t be in one of the ordinary buildings—it would be hidden, locked away behind layers of security. But Mia had a feeling she knew where to start.

She made her way toward a building at the far end of the compound, the one that looked the most heavily guarded. It had no markings, just a single door and a row of cameras mounted along the walls. It was too quiet around it, too well-protected. This had to be it.

Mia crouched behind a stack of crates, her mind racing as she formulated a plan. She had come here for answers—for the truth about what they had done to her, and what they were doing to others like her. But she knew she wouldn’t leave until she made sure no one else would suffer the same fate.

The night was still, the desert wind whispering in the distance. Mia took a deep breath, her heart steadying. This was the moment she had been waiting for.

And she was ready.

[Mir]

Asho rested her chin on her hands. She sat atop a motorcycle, watching and waiting. Advanced intelligence tied the facility in the little valley in the mountains outside of Phoenix to be where the vibranium was located. There were many questions she had. Did they actually have illegal vibranium? If so, how did they acquire it? Who had provided it? How had that person or persons acquired it? Finally, maybe the most important question, what were they doing with it? These were all questions filled with uncertainty.

As she watched a convoy go inside of the compound area, she knew she wasn’t going to stop until she had answers to these questions.

They didn’t come from her. They came from the one above her. The King of Wakanda, her brother, was not prone to letting unanswered questions remain that way. Not when he had capable means of getting those answers. She was the right hand of the King, reaching all the way from Africa, across the world, to this small corner of the United States.

The motorcycle was of Wakandan make. Powered by a tiny amount of Vibranium, the metal not only absorbed the sound of the engine, it allowed the motorcycle to hover, meaning it was less motorcycle and more hoverbike. Still, Asho wanted to be on the safe side.

She waited for the convoy to stop before she started her way down the mountain side.

The vehicle was coded to her suit and kimoyo beads. It would go where she needed it to go. Remain idle where she left it. But most importantly, it would not work for anyone but her.

As she reached the spot where she wanted to be, Asho perched on the motorcycle and leapt off. No sooner had her feet left the ground, then the bike’s engine cut and the brakes kicked in. It remained on the ground.

She, not so much.

Twisting in the air as she sailed, Asho let the lenses of her Black Panther habit take in all the information they could. Information, she often stressed to Je’von, was what a Black Panther needed. Her journey took her towards one of the taller buildings and she landed on the roof.

The impact on the roof was absorbed, kinetic energy already storing up in the suit.

Asho smiled as she crouched and continued her scan.

Hopefully it was energy saved and not used.

Hopefully.

[Cazzik]

STEELWORKS HEADQUARTERS
ZOE HUDSON'S PRIVATE LAB

Nightwing put his communicator away and turned to Zoe, who had stepped out of her Steel armor and was standing at a bank of computers in her yoga pants and a t-shirt, "That was Henry. Something broke into the Batcave, nearly got Quinn and Robin. That's why I couldn't reach Oracle. Apparently it's a mess."

Zoe continued staring at her screens, "Do you need to go back to Gotham?" Nightwing stepped up alongside her, studying the terminal, "No. He said they have it under control. Stark is on scene."

Zoe grinned, "Iron Man is there? Oh I bet Batman loves that."

Ryan smiled in response, "Yeah, he didn't sound too thrilled about that. Anyway, what've you got?"

"Unfortunately, not a lot of concrete evidence that we're dealing with a Ghost Rider, per se. It looks like my mom collected a fair amount of data on the subject. Most notable was Johnathan Blaze, but their appears to have been many riders before and after him, though no sightings have been confirmed in almost 20 years," Zoe sighed, "Why would a rider appear now? And in National City?"

Ryan sat down on a swivel chair and placed his eskrima sticks on a desk next to him, "Again, my knowledge on Ghost Riders is limited at best but my understanding is they are tied to mystical energies. Could something be calling it here? Have you encountered anything on the magical spectrum lately?"

Zoe rolled her eyes, "God, I hate magic. And no. I haven't come across anything like that. National City is a tech hub. We don't have a lot of wizards and tarot card readers running around."

He remembered that about her. Zoe Hudson was a woman of science. She knew magic existed but it wasn't her area of expertise and she showed little interest in studying it. Ryan smiled at her. They weren't together anymore but he missed talking to her and he was willing to bet she missed talking to him too. "Stop that," she said.

"Stop what?"

"Looking at me like that. We're not dating anymore, Webb. You don't get to look at me like that."

Ryan through his hands up, "I was just smiling at you!"

Zoe's eyes narrowed, "I know that smile. I don't want it anywhere near me." He shrugged in defeat as she continued, "I think it's time for you to go. We can pick this up later. I'll call you if I find anything."

[Mir]

Kenzie stared at her grandfather.

“You just grew wings.” She said.

“I always had the wings, Kenzie.” He replied.

“No, you didn’t. They just appeared. There is not a single picture I have of you where you have wings. What the hell is going on?” She asked, her hands coming up as she took a few steps backwards, almost tripped over the edge of a table.

“Kenzie, I’m trying to explain.” Her grandfather said. “Please, try to listen.” He added, his voice softening. “I’m going about this the wrong way, I’m rushing it. I’m sorry, but it’s the situation we’re in.” He cleared his throat, looking down at the ground. “You are…Thanagarian. When you were little, we all agreed not to tell you until the time was right. You didn’t need to be involved in anything that was happening. But eventually, I felt it was time to tell you. Your father was human. I don’t blame him for his reaction.”

“Human in the sense of…human in the sense of what?” She asked, her voice starting to tremble a bit.

“Human in every sense. He saw his teenage daughter already struggling with things and didn’t want to add on to it. In hindsight, he was correct.” Pop Pops said.

“This is what the argument was about.” She said, quietly and he nodded.

He had picked up energy when he had been speaking a few minutes ago. Her grandfather had been animated and excited. But now, now that weariness had returned. That appearance of tiredness. She took a tentative step forward and crouched in front of him, putting a hand on his knee.

“I forced my daughter to make a terrible choice, to choose between her husband and her father. She, like your father, made the right choice, choosing her husband and her daughter. A family unit needs to be strong. Strong for each other.” He said, and she could feel the apology in his voice. “I only…I only wanted you to know who you are.”

“Well, I know now. I’m an alien.” She said. “Explains a lot of my hair troubles in high school.” Kenzie said, struggling to find some humor in the situation. She wasn’t sure what exactly she was going to do with this information but something also told her that this had to be something she figured out at a later time.

Whatever was going on, it had her grandfather scared and she didn’t like seeing Pop Pops scared.

“Okay.” She said, rising and running a hand through her hair with a sigh. “So do I have wings? Do I…just…what do you need me to do?” She asked.

[Nichalus]

Phoenix, AZ

Mia’s heart sank as she watched the scene unfold from her vantage point on the rooftop. The convoy of trucks had backed into the dock doors, and now, one by one, teenagers were being herded out like livestock, their wrists and ankles bound in electronic shackles that glowed faintly in the darkness. The look in their eyes was one Mia knew all too well—fear, exhaustion, and the hollow resignation of people who had been stripped of their freedom.

They were just like her. Experiments. Test subjects.

She clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white as she fought back the wave of anger rising within her. These kids, some no older than she had been when she was first taken, were being led into the same nightmare she had escaped from. The guards, cold and efficient, prodded them forward, their hands resting on the rifles slung across their chests. No one spoke; the only sounds were the shuffling of feet and the occasional clang of metal from the shackles as they moved.

Mia knew she had to do something. She had come here to find answers, but now, seeing these kids, the mission had changed. She wasn’t just here for herself anymore—she was here for them. She couldn't let them be subjected to the horrors she had endured. The experiments had turned her into something darker, something more powerful, but these kids still had a chance to be saved.

Her eyes scanned the warehouse below, looking for any potential points of entry or weak spots in the security. The roof she was on was lined with vents and skylights, and if she timed it right, she could slip inside without being detected. But she had to be careful. The guards were well-trained, their eyes constantly sweeping the area for any signs of trouble. One wrong move, and the entire compound would be alerted to her presence.

Mia took a deep breath, her mind racing through the possibilities. She could see the main warehouse doors being sealed shut behind the last group of teens, and the guards were starting to disperse, heading to their posts around the perimeter. This was her chance. She couldn’t afford to wait any longer.

Moving swiftly and silently, Mia crept across the rooftop toward one of the larger skylights. She peered down through the glass, watching as the teens were led inside the warehouse, where rows of cells lined the walls—cold, sterile cages that reminded her of the ones she had been trapped in during her time in the laboratory. Her stomach twisted at the sight.

With the guards focused on securing the warehouse from the outside, Mia used the opportunity to pry open one of the skylights with a single claw from her hand. The hinges creaked softly, but the wind masked the sound. She slipped through the opening, landing deftly and silently on a metal beam high above the warehouse floor. From this vantage point, she could see everything—the teens being locked in their cells, the guards patrolling below, and the ominous machines that lined the far wall, machines she recognized all too well.

They were the same machines used on her. The ones that had changed her forever.

Mia’s eyes narrowed. She had to disable them, free the kids, and get them out of here before the guards realized what was happening. But she couldn’t do it alone. She needed to move fast, stay hidden, and strike when the guards least expected it. She began to climb down the steel beams, her movements fluid and precise. She was no longer the scared girl from the photograph in her backpack. She was something else now—something they had created but could no longer control. And tonight, she was going to make sure this nightmare ended. For her, and for all of them.

As Mia crept silently toward the bank of machines at the back of the warehouse, she stayed low, her senses sharp. The guards were preoccupied with locking the teens in their cells, their backs turned, giving her the window of opportunity she needed. The air was thick with tension, but she remained calm, moving with the quiet precision she had learned over years of surviving.

As she passed a row of windowed doors, something made her pause. She peered cautiously into one of the rooms, her breath catching at what she saw inside. The sight was horrifying.

In the center of the room was a surgical table, but it wasn’t just any table—it was fitted with heavy bindings, the kind designed to restrain someone who might try to fight back. The bindings, however, were no longer intact. They were burned and melted, twisted into misshapen slag as if something—or someone—had violently broken free. The walls were still streaked with charred flesh, blood, and burned material, the remnants of what had happened there.

Mia’s eyes scanned the room, her heart pounding. The scene was a brutal reminder of the horror these kids were facing. Whatever had happened in that room, it had been savage, desperate. Someone had tried to escape, but at a terrible cost. The sight of the bloodstains and charred flesh sent a chill down her spine, even though she had witnessed her fair share of violence.

She wondered what kind of experiment had gone wrong in there, or if maybe—just maybe—someone had fought back against whatever cruel procedure they had been subjected to. The damage was too extensive to be from any normal outburst of strength. This was something else. Something... unnatural.

The experiments they had done on her had given her abilities, but they had also given her nightmares. She wasn’t the only one they had altered. And whoever had been on that table had been pushed to their breaking point.

Her fists tightened at her sides as she tore her gaze away from the gruesome scene. The anger that simmered inside her felt like fire. She needed to stop this—to make sure no one else ended up like the person who had been trapped in that room.

She moved on, slipping past more windowed doors, but the image of the surgical table, the burned bindings, and the bloodstained walls stayed with her. She was more determined than ever now. These machines at the back of the warehouse, the ones connected to the experiments—they had to be destroyed. If she could disable them, it would buy her time to free the teens and get them out before the guards realized what was happening.

Mia slumped her shoulders, adopting a vulnerable posture as she stepped around the table. Her eyes were wide with fear, her hands trembling slightly as she raised them in a gesture of helplessness. The lone guard by the machines, startled by her sudden appearance, jerked his weapon up, his body tensing as he prepared to react. But the moment his eyes settled on Mia, his guard began to drop.

She was small, her hoodie torn and her face partially hidden by its shadow. She looked like nothing more than a scared, lost girl, a far cry from the lethal force she truly was. Her voice quivered as she spoke.

"Please, mister," Mia said, her tone soft and pitiful. "Can you help me?"

The guard, clearly unprepared for this kind of encounter, frowned, his suspicion giving way to confusion. His grip on the weapon relaxed slightly as he stared at her, sizing her up. She looked too fragile, too scared to pose any real threat.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice hard but uncertain. He glanced around as if expecting someone else to appear, his professional training still keeping him cautious. "You should be with the rest of the subj...others."

Mia kept her gaze low, looking as if she was on the verge of tears. “I—I got lost,” she stammered, taking a hesitant step closer. “I don’t know where they took me. I just want to go home.”

As the guard reached down to take her arm, the moment Mia had been waiting for arrived. In an instant, the fear in her eyes vanished, replaced by cold, unyielding determination. The trembling that had filled her body stilled, her hands steady as steel. Before the guard could register the change, she moved.

Her gleaming claws slid silently from between her knuckles, sharp and deadly. There was a fleeting moment where the guard’s eyes widened in shock, his body tensing as he began to realize his mistake—but it was already too late.

With lightning speed, Mia’s claws arced through the air, slicing cleanly through his throat. The guard’s mouth opened in a silent gasp, his hand instinctively moving to his neck, but it was no use. Blood poured from the deep, precise wound as her claws nearly cleaved his head from his body.

He staggered for a second, his eyes glazed with shock and pain, before collapsing to the ground, his body crumpling in a lifeless heap at her feet.

Mia stood over the body, her claws still dripping with crimson. The warehouse was eerily quiet, the sound of the guard’s gurgling breath already fading into the distance. She wiped her claws on his uniform before retracting them, her face emotionless as she stepped over the corpse. There was no remorse, no hesitation. Not anymore.

He had been in her way, and now he was gone.

The machines hummed, their low, ominous vibrations filling the air. With a quick glance around to ensure no one had seen what she had done, Mia began to work. She ripped through the wires and circuits with precision, knowing exactly where to cut, disable, and sabotage. The machinery sputtered, the glowing lights flickering out one by one as she dismantled the control systems that powered the shackles and the monitoring equipment.

The kids in the cells were still being processed, but soon enough, the guards would realize something was wrong. She didn’t have much time, but she had done enough damage. The machines were dead, the control systems destroyed. Now it was time for the next phase.

Mia wiped her hands clean on her tattered jeans, her heart steady as she glanced back at the guards who were still unaware of the chaos about to unfold.

The power they had over the teens—the control they thought they held—was gone. The real nightmare was just beginning, and Mia was going to make sure none of them saw the dawn.

This time, she wouldn’t run. This time, she was going to finish it.

[Nichalus]

Phoenix, Arizona

The lights in the laboratory flickered wildly, turning the space into a disorienting blur of shadow and light. Each flash illuminated a scene of chaos—guards firing wildly, shouting orders that were lost in the confusion. But in the midst of the pandemonium, Mia moved like a predator through a storm, her body a blur as she executed her bloody dance of death.

Her movements were graceful, fluid, but each step was laced with violence. Her claws tore through flesh and bone with surgical precision, leaving trails of crimson in her wake. The guards, overwhelmed by the flashing lights and the fear that gripped them, fired their weapons indiscriminately into the flickering darkness. Bullets whizzed through the air, ricocheting off walls and equipment, some finding their mark.

Several rounds hit Mia dead center. One tore through her chest, another through her stomach, and a spray of bullets shredded her arms and legs. Each impact should have slowed her down, should have brought her to her knees. But the moment the bullets passed through her body, the wounds began to close, the flesh knitting itself back together almost instantly. Where there had been gaping holes, there was now smooth, unbroken skin. The guards' panicked eyes widened in disbelief as they watched her heal before their very eyes.

If Mia felt any pain, she didn’t show it. Her rage, cold and focused, muted the sensation. The anger that burned within her, the drive for revenge and justice, was stronger than any physical hurt. She barely paused, her healing factor working in perfect synchronization with her deadly movements.

One guard, panicking, emptied his entire magazine in her direction, his face twisted in terror. Mia’s body jerked with each impact, but by the time the last round had left the chamber, she was standing, unbroken.

Mia’s eyes locked onto the guard who had just shot her, a cold, predatory gleam flashing in them. The fear in his face was palpable as he realized his bullets had done nothing to slow her down. She stood there, seemingly unaffected, her shoulder fully healed, and the blood that had soaked her torn hoodie now dry and flaking away.

Without a word, Mia’s claws retracted into her knuckles, the sleek metal vanishing like it had never been there. The guard’s brow furrowed in confusion, his heart racing, as if for a moment, he thought she might spare him.

But then, with a sudden burst of speed, Mia leapt into the air, her body rising high above him with a graceful, almost inhuman arc. The guard’s breath caught in his throat as his eyes followed her movement, his brain struggling to process what was happening. And then he saw it—gleaming in the flicker of the dim light.

Her claws, no longer extended from her hands, had instead pierced through her forearms, jutting out like the sharp fins of some deadly, metallic creature. They gleamed like polished steel, wickedly sharp and terrifying, and before the guard could even scream, Mia descended upon him.

In a single, fluid motion, she passed by him, her body moving with the same deadly grace that had defined every strike so far. The guard barely had time to register the cold touch of metal as it sliced cleanly through his neck.

There was no pain. No sensation. Just a brief moment of clarity where the world seemed to slow down.

His head, separated cleanly from his body, tumbled through the air, the terrified expression frozen on his face. It hit the ground with a dull thud, followed closely by his lifeless body, which crumpled in a heap beneath him.

Mia landed softly behind him, her back to the guard’s fallen form. The claws slid smoothly back into her forearms, hidden once more beneath her skin, as if they had never been there. She didn’t even look back at the carnage she had wrought. There was no need.

Mia stood still, her chest rising and falling steadily as she stared down the remaining guards. The emergency lights flickered on, casting the warehouse in harsh, unrelenting brightness. No more shadows to hide in, no more confusion from the flickering strobe—now, it was just her, bathed in the cold glow of reality, and the terrified men who still clung to their weapons.

The air was thick with the scent of blood and gunpowder, the warehouse floor littered with the bodies of their fallen comrades. The remaining guards stood frozen, gripping their rifles tightly, their hands trembling. Their fear was palpable, spreading through them like wildfire. They had seen what Mia could do, witnessed her shrug off wounds that would have killed any normal person. They had seen her rise from bullet after bullet, only to come at them harder, faster, more mercilessly.

And now, she waited.

Mia stood near the fallen guard she had just decapitated, her face expressionless, her claws retracted. She didn’t move, didn’t attack—she simply stared, her cold eyes locking onto each one of the remaining guards. Her presence, her silence, was a threat all on its own.

They hesitated, unsure of what to do. Should they fire? Run? None of their previous tactics had worked, and they knew deep down that it didn’t matter what they did next—Mia would come for them. She was patient, methodical. Like a predator toying with its prey, she was giving them one final moment to understand the futility of their situation.

[Cazzik]

Marco waved down a cab. He was exhausted this morning and really didn't feel like huffing it over to the train station. Taxi's were expensive but today he felt it was worth it. Took long enough to get ahold of one. Oddly enough every cab he attempted to get today kept on driving, almost like they didn't even see him. He climbed in, setting his backpack next to him and his skateboard on his lap, upside down with the wheels facing the roof of the car. The driver looked into the rear view mirror, his red sunglasses precluding his eyes from being visible, "Where to?"

Marco looked up and smiled, "National State University, please."

The driver nodded and pulled away from the curb. Marco watched as the older man, complete with disheveled white hair, kept glancing at him in the mirror. Though nothing happened, it was unnerving. There was something off putting about his driver. Marco sat in silence for a long time, and only spoke up when they missed the turn, "Excuse me! Hey man, you missed my turn."

"On the contrary Mr. Diaz. I'm taking you exactly where you need to be."

Marco's stomach dropped. The man knew his name. The creepy ass old driver knew his name! Marco tried opening the door but it wouldn't budge. He heard soft laughter from the front seat, "Calm down, my boy. Enjoy the ride. Ole Jim Scratch will get you to your destination soon enough."

[Mir]

Kenzie took a deep breath as she walked up to the gated facility. The military had airlifted the meteorite from where it had landed in the bay. They had taken it to just outside National City and built a cordoned off area around it. She did not fully understand why she was here or how her Grandfather was connected to all of this. But she had promised him she would look into it and it was way too late to try to get to Venice now. During the drive, she had made the phone calls necessary to get her absence excused. Well, as excused as she could get it. She knew some people who were going to be really pissed off.

Hopefully this was all worth it.

There were military guards and she had to look like a deer in headlights to them.

“Ma’am, can we help you?” One of them asked.

She nodded slowly. “I need to speak to someone in charge about taking a look at the meteorite.” She said. “My name is Kenzie Sanders.” She added, as if that would help.

“The supermodel?” Another one of the soldiers, this one in the back of the group, asked.

She smiled. Adding the “super” in front of “model” was definitely an ego boost. Maybe it would help?

“Uh, yeah, that’s me.” She said.

Suddenly their interest was piqued.

“Listen, I just need to speak to someone, if that’s possible.” She said.

“Sure, we’ve got a community relations specialist.”

She waited, giving them a polite smile. To their credit, no one of them took a picture of her or asked for a picture, but she got quite a few once overs. That was something she was pretty used to and it didn’t bother her. From a young age, Kenzie had realized that she was fairly attractive to a wide range of people. Once she had gotten to college, she had realized that there was money to be made in that department.

The community relations specialist was a Captain who greeted her with a smile and asked a few questions. She told him exactly what Pop Pops had told her to say and the Captain’s eyes had gotten confused. Then she showed the woman the badge her grandfather had given her and the confusion had gotten worse.

However, it had gotten her past the gate and closer to what she was looking for.

She had a feeling it was going to get more difficult from here.

==-==

There was gunfire.

Asho’s brow knit together underneath the Black Panther habit. She had been investigating one part of the facility when she had started hearing alarms and gunfire from another section. It hadn’t taken her long to confirm there was vibranium here. She had her ideas where it was located, the issue was that there were two separate places where the radioactivity could be traced. She was standing by the first one, having taken out the guards surrounding it.

She looked over her shoulder at the continued sound of the gunfire. Her sensors informed her the other vibranium trace took her to where the gunfire was coming from.

She sighed. She had been hoping this would be easy.

Asho removed a Kimoyo bead and pressed it to the metal container that held the vibranium in this room. Knowing that she no longer needed to remain silent, she used some of the stored kinetic energy to blast through the wall of the storeroom.

Her hover cycle would be here soon and the onboard A.I., connected to the Kimoyo bead would take the vibranium to a safe place.

Which now meant she could turn her attention to the sound of gunfire and the other vibranium trace.

A sound which could suspiciously no longer be heard.

She took off running towards the sound. This was another part of the facility. While it wasn’t a large place, it still had some distance. Thankfully, the Heart Shaped Herb granted Asho the ability to move quite quickly when she wanted. Her movement let her reach her destination with haste and she found herself in front of a large warehouse looking structure.

This didn’t make sense. She had just been at a warehouse looking structure.

Why keep the vibranium in two different places?

She opened the door and stepped inside.

The warehouse was subdivided into a number of chambers. Whoever had built it had wanted to keep things separate, but not fully segregated. Time had required them to not bother putting ceilings on the newly created rooms. Asho leapt to the top of one of the rooms, before going higher up, into the rafters.

She could see a large grouping of what could only be surmised as guards or soldiers. She cocked her head to the side. Guards. Soldiers wouldn’t be terrified of what appeared to be a small girl. Maybe she was a teenager? Even still, it didn’t make sense.

Then she saw it.

Claws.

Her sensors told her this girl had adamantium in her bones.

A Wolverine?

Well that was interesting. Unfortunately for everyone below her, her sensors also told her that the vibranium she was looking for was in the back of this warehouse, which meant she was going to have to get past everything that was happening. Fortunately for her, the young girl below was keeping everyone busy so she could move across the rafters.

She took a step and then stopped. For the first time, Asho set her mission to the side and looked around her. Truly looked around. Everything in the warehouse, all the rooms were very similar. They looked like operating rooms. She started blinking, letting her sensors do the work for her. The Black Panther Habit was giving her information she was not pleased to see.

There was blood and human remains in different rooms.

Her eyes narrowed. The mission was clear but at the same time could she stand idly by?

She dropped from the rafters, behind the soldiers, sandwiching them between herself and the young girl. She wasn’t sure who was on what side, but something told her the girl was not on the side of those doing such things to their fellow human being.

Vibranium claws extended.

“Surrender.” She said.

[Mir]

Kenzie was ushered into a conference room. Her bag had been checked, as well as the other bag in the car. Her grandfather had given her explicit instructions on what to do with what the bag contained. She was waiting now and the door to the conference room opened as a military dressed man stepped inside. This one was a Major. Or something. She wasn’t well versed in military ranks. But if the captain person had gotten this guy then he had to be a major?

“Ms. Sanders, I’m Major Gurney.”

“Pleased to meet you,” she replied, with a small smile. Kenzie twisted the gold rings she wore. Her eyes shifted over to her bag. “Listen, I know a lot of this seems super weird and I don’t fully understand it myself and-”

“I met your grandfather once.”

She bit her lip and cocked her head to the side. “I’m sorry, you…met my grandfather?”

“It was years ago. I was a kid actually.”

Well this is getting weirder and weirder.

“Cool.” She said. “Cool…cool, so do you know what’s going on?”

Also known as, did you know Pop Pops could grow wings from out of fucking nowhere? And if you did, why was I not told this?

“Well, to be honest, no,” Gurney replied. “But…I do think I know why he’s interested in this meteor.”

She nodded, looking over at the name plate. The last name was etched into the tag on the man’s chest. “I’m going to level with you here, my amount of knowledge in all of this is slim to none. All I know is that my grandfather asked me to come and speak with someone here and check something out with this meteor.”

The blond haired man smiled and nodded. “No, I get it, like I said.”

She realized he was talking around something. Was he trying to keep her busy or trying to find a way to give her some bad news? She decided to test things with the later theory. The first one didn’t make much sense so she wasn’t going to waste time. “You’re not going to tell me what’s going on, are you?”

“I am not, unfortunately.”

She wasn’t sure she quite liked his tone, conciliatory and nonchalant at the same time. Not a great combination, not in her book. “Something tells me you’re not going to let me take a look at that meteorite either.”

“You are two for two, Ms. Sanders,” Gurney said, rising from the table. “However, what I am going to do is ask you to leave.”

Now she was confused and annoyed. “Wait a minute. I showed your captain fella that badge,” Kenzie said, pointing at her bag to which the badge had been safely returned. “That got me in the door. Now you’re telling me I have to leave? Why?”

He held his hands open. “Your grandfather notwithstanding, we’re not allowing any civilians near the meteor until we’ve finished our tests on it. Even then, I’m not certain we’d be allowing people without clearance. Your grandfather will have to understand.” He said. He started walking out of the conference room. “Also, we’ll have to confiscate the other bag you came with. You’ll understand, I’m sure.”

She was really sure she didn’t, but she wasn’t able to get another word in before the door closed. Kenzie grabbed her bag and started for the door but it opened again, this time by two MPs.

She wasn’t going to get anywhere this way.

[Cazzik]

The taxi was going faster than any man made vehicle had a right to do. It felt as if it was flying. Buildings and people were a blur outside the windows. Marco had given up trying to get out. Even if he could open the door, something told him he wouldn't survive the exit. The old man, Jim Scratch, just kept smiling at him from the front seat, evident in the rearview mirror. Marco did not return the gesture.

The cab came to a screeching halt. Dust surrounded the vehicle and Marco couldn't see out. Jim spoke but didn't turn around as he exited, "Finally here. Come along, Mr. Diaz."

Marco waited a moment after the old man had walked away but he sighed and finally opened the door and climbed out. It was blistering hot outside and, to his surprise, it was also dark! It had been 8:00 in the morning when he had climbed into the taxi. Where the hell was he? He spun around to examine the terrain. What he could see in the dim light looked like nothing but flat desert land. That would explain the heat. He whirled around as a bright red neon light cut through the darkness. He watched as the cab driver headed towards the source; a giant sign above a rickety old building that read Route 666 Bar and Grill.

He turned slightly as he reached the door, "Are you coming, Marco? We have a lot to discuss." With that Scratch disappeared inside. Marco stood frozen in the dusty heat, thinking maybe he was having a stroke and all of this was in his head. However, something in his gut told him that was a lie. This was real. His cab driver was real. The bar was real. He wanted to know what this was. Marco followed the other man inside.

As he opened the door he was greeted with the foul stench of rotten eggs. The place was covered in wood paneling, reminding Marco of some country western dive bar in the middle of nowhere.....which seemed to fit with his current location. There were several patrons inside, all of which stopped what they were doing and stared at him intently. The bartender, a large African-American man with pupil-less eyes spoke in an unnaturally deep voice, "We don't want your kind in here. Get the hell out."

The old man's hand shot up from a booth, "He's with me, Zazzle." The bartender turned and growled again, "No one said you were welcome here either, Scratch. None of us want any part in your bullshit."

The old man put his hand down and spoke again, his tone was steady with an undercurrent of rage, "Your desires mean nothing to me. Remember who you're speaking to. Bring us a couple of drinks and keep your mouth shut for the remainder of my visit or I will have your tongue."

The bartender glared at Scratch but ultimately obeyed. Marco just watched the hulking mass of muscles deliver the beverages to the table, amazed that the old man wielded such influence....and fear. Marco walked over to the booth and sat across from his driver. He looked at the beer in front of him but didn't touch it, "You have to tell me. What the hell is going on here?"

Jim Scratch took a sip of his beverage and adjusted his dark sunglasses, "Yes, yes. Where to start? Tell me, Marco, have you ever heard of a Ghost Rider?"