Avenger Assembled

"I have been away for some time myself," answered the angel. He looked around the cemetery, glancing in particular at the weeping stone angels so popular on the elaborate 19th century graves. This area was taken well care of by the neighborhood, but even here the decay of the Fens was visible in the pollution that marred the marble, and the monuments left chipped and unrepaired. "It is good to know that those who died for a cause, righteous or otherwise, are remembered by those for whom they fought." He looked back up at the monument and added, "Heaven's position on war is a complicated one. Men and women on both sides, who pray to the same god and go to kill each other in His name the next day. The American Civil War is one of the few exceptions." He focused on Victory and said, "You wear the name of Nike. It's a proud tradition." He smiled thinly. "Though I am no friend of the so-called pagan gods, I can commend her for wearing the style and colors of an angel, and for being the best at what she was."

Okay, we'll start getting this wrapped up. Diehard Diehard spends his move action running, then attacks Wisp. 26 That hits. DC 28 Tou save, Wisp

Not where to find the Baron at first, Sharl decided to use a trick he'd been practicing in Gina's lab before his trip back to Tronik. He flitted around until he found a security camera in the hospital, then took an iPad out of his pocket and began pressing buttons. Gina had explained to him that the iPad wasn't real, it was just a visible emulation of his program interfacing with the security system's hardware: he wasn't sure he understood it, but it certainly did the job as he cycled through image after image until he finally found Baron Magnus. Without stopping to look where he was, figuring they were in an urgent situation, he flew through the halls then stuck his head through the door, hoping not to alarm any patients: there didn't seem to be any nearby. "Hey, Baron? Miss Americana says we're ready to proceed."

Hellhound PL: 10 (150) Abilities: 60 pp STR 30 (+10) DEX 16 (+3) CON 30 (+10) INT 10 (+0) WIS 24 (+7) CHA 10 (+0) Combat: 24 pp ATK: +6 (+10 Melee) DEF: +10 (+3 flat-footed) Grapple: +22 Init: +3 Saves: 3 pp TOU +10 (+10 Con) FORT +10 (+10 Con) REF +6 (+3 Dex, +3) WILL +7 (+7 Wis) Skills: 56 r=14 pp Intimidate 10 (+10) Knowledge: Theology and Philosophy 4 (+4) Language 1 (Infernal) (Base: English) Notice 13 (+20) Sense Motive 8 (+15) Stealth 12 (+15) Survival 8 (+15) Feats: 16 pp Attack Focus: Melee 4 Dodge Focus 4 Challenge (Fast Startle) Improved Initiative Move-By Action Quick Change Second Chance (Tracking checks) Skill Mastery (Intimidate, Notice, Sense Motive, Survival) Startle Uncanny Dodge (olfactory) Powers: 37 pp Enhanced Feats 4 (Improved Crit 2, Variable Descriptor 2 [any infernal]) [4 pp] Leaping 1 (x2) [1 pp] Immunity 4 (aging, disease, environmental heat, poison) [4 pp] Impervious TOU 10 (Drawback: Not vs. Holy) [9 pp] Speed 1 (10 MPH) [1 pp] Super-Senses 8 (Accurate Acute Analytical Extended Tracking 3 [full-speed] Scent) [8 pp] Super-Strength 1 (Heavy Load: 1.5 tons) [2 pp] Teleport 1 (100 ft) (Extra: Accurate) (PF: Change Velocity) [4+1=5 pp] AP: Dimensional Movement 2 (any hell) Drawback: -3 pp Vulnerable (holy) (uncommon, major) [3 pp] costs abilities 60 + combat 24 + saves 3 + skills 14/56 + feats 16 + powers 37 -drawback 3= 150 pts -------------------- Design Notes: The idea here is that this character is an infernal tracker and hunter: something like a demonic werewolf in terms of look and raw power. Tracked with bringing escaped demons back to the Hell from which they came (and indeed perhaps there are more than one!), or returning the souls of the worst of the worst, this hound has slipped his leash, perhaps thanks to spending time alongside superheroes either as uneasy ally or bitter foe. Now he fights to keep anyone from going to the place below that spawned him, saving lives and souls at once, and maybe if he’s lucky finding some measure of redemption for his lifetime of serving the powers of evil. In my mind, he looks like a normal man unless he’s unleashing the terrible power of the beast within. In a Freedom City setting, he’s probably a scion of the legendary Cereberus, servant and guardian of Hades himself. His Scent lets him track anyone without Olfactory Concealment for tremendous distances, and to do so at great speed: the Hellhound is indeed a mighty hunter! No Rage, as I don’t like the mechanics we use for it, but he could certainly pick up a few ranks without any change to the design concept. (OTOH, maybe he’s a hero because he’s lost his rage these days...) With his Leaping, Teleport, and Speed, not to mention high Stealth, he can stalk his targets like Jason stalks a randy couple of teenagers, chasing them through locked doors and through walls without too many problems. That also means that he’ll leave behind a very puzzling scene for anyone following his movements. No Attack on his Dimensional Movement: if you want that, stunt it off his Teleport array, using your HP from the Complication to power it. No Strike, as usual with claws characters: I figure using his Enhanced Feats is how he represents putting the bite on someone. No Fearless on him; abused animals may seem lethal, but ultimately most of them are actually very afraid. And there’s not much more scary than an angry demonic master! (He can’t have caught the guy all the time, right?) He’s very, very tough, at least not vs. superheroes: while hurting him with blessed weapons is an easy job, you’ll have to hit him hard enough to power through his Impervious otherwise. If he has left Hades, he’s got one hell of an Enemy complication, given the threat that terrible fellow poses to the heroes of Freedom and the relationship with the setting as a whole, not to mention former kennelmates who might have a grudge about him defecting and joining the enemy.

Grown-Up Sidekick PL: 10 (150) Abilities: 40 pp STR 20 (+5) DEX 20 (+5) CON 20 (+5) INT 10 (+0) WIS 16 (+3) CHA 14 (+2) Combat: 32 pp ATK: +8 (+13 Melee/+15 Unarmed) DEF: +13 (+4 flat-footed) Init: +9 Grapple: +18 Saves: 8 pp TOU +7 (+5 Con, +2 Protection) FORT +7 (+5 Con, +2) REF +7 (+5 Dex, +2) WILL +7 (+3 Wis, +4) Skills: 24 pp=96 r Acrobatics 15 (+20) Bluff 13 (+15) Climb 5 (+10) Craft (mechanical) 8 (+8) Gather Info 8 (+10) Intimidate 8 (+10) Investigate 10 (+10) Notice 7 (+10) Search 5 (+5) Sense Motive 7 (+10) Stealth 10 (+15) Feats: 24 pp Acrobatic Bluff Attack Focus: Melee 5 Attack Specialization: Unarmed Challenge 2 (Fast Acrobatic Bluff, Fast Taunt) Dodge Focus 5 Evasion Improved Initiative Leadership Luck Move-By Action Power Attack Set-Up Takedown Attack Taunt Uncanny Dodge (auditory) Powers: 22 pp Device 5 (Mentor’s Costume) (Hard to Lose) (PFs: Restricted 2) [22 pp] -Enhanced Feats 10 [beginner’s Luck, Eidetic Memory, Jack of All Trades, Luck, Quick Change, Second Chance 2 (Notice, Sense Motive), Skill Mastery 2 (Acrobatics, Bluff, Gather Info, Intimidate, Investigate, Notice, Sense Motive, Stealth), Well-Informed] [10] -Features 2 (Cellphone, Computer) [2] -Leaping 1 (x2) [1] -Protection 2 [2] -Speed 1 (10 MPH) [1] -Super-Movement 2 (Slow Fall, Swinging) [4] -Super-Senses 5 (Communications Link [Mentor] [radio], Analytical Vision, Darkvision, Radio) [5] costs abilities 40 + combat 32 + saves 8 + skills 22/88 + feats 24 + powers 22 = 150 pts ---- Design Notes: OK, the idea is that this is a former teen sidekick who has upgraded to the big leagues. Most of her feats are designed along those lines: her specialty used to be setting up bad guys for her mentor by means of flashy acrobatic kicks and taunts, but she's very good at that kind of combat debuffing on her own behalf. Her Leadership represents an inspiring speech from a young sidekick, but could just as easily be directed at other, younger heroes. She'd work really well as part of, or even leader of, a team; she's been part of that struggle her whole life! Her mentor is too old or too sick to fight alongside her, so instead she's back in the Cave, conversing with her protege turned successor by means of an earpiece built right into her costume. The idea is that her (unstatted) mentor constantly hears and sees what she does, and is able to offer guidance through their connection; it's that source of advice, plus a boost of confidence, that makes her so much more confident when she's wearing her mentor's old gear. Freedom City is, by some standards, more realistic than other comic book settings. We really don't want you having your character debut as an eight-year-old, even if now they're an adult (or at least an older teen), that would have gotten your mentor in jail and you gone to child protective services! But maybe you're the daughter or ward of a hero trained from childhood that way, one who finally got that costumed debut in their mid-teens after years of pressing for it (and maybe the occasional adventure earlier...), and is now in their mid-twenties and ready to assume a much more active role in their life. Think about history a little, given how much this character is tied to her new status and thus where she was when she was younger: a character who debuted at 16 in 2001 is 26 and ready to take up her own role now (god, that makes me feel old), and has grown up as a hero in a very different setting than a hero from an earlier generation might have lived through. The streets are a tough place, and this young lady has grown up in the heart of them, where her circumstances forged her into a weapon for her mentor's war on crime. But that's okay; she has a personal connection to the greatest crime fighter in the world, she's wearing the colors and costume of the city's great defender, and she's taking to the streets on her own now to defend the people she grew up fighting for. Her mentor's old friends, rivals, and bitter enemies are natural complications for her. (Who was her dad back in the day? The answer may surprise her!) She's the perfect choice to become part of a new team of young heroes (or perhaps a Claremont team, depending on exactly how long her training took), with her experience making her a valuable addition to any team of young people just starting out in the hero gig.

Some basics: The backstory as written largely looks good. You've got a clear concept and idea here, it's just a matter of working your ideas out mathwise. Other stuff: Make sure you watch spelling and such. You have a few extra hols in your alcoholism, I think. Speaking of alcoholism, make sure you get this one right: we're an optimistic, family-friendly PG-13 sort of site. Your character will not be having drunken antics; he will be going to AA meetings. (Which, if you are an Iron Man fan, has led to some great stories) Is this a PL 10, or PL 7 character (you go back and forth)? If you're new to M&M, you really should start at PL 10. The game and setting is designed for characters at that level. And if you do go that way, you'll have a lot more points to spend. You can start at PL 7, though, so keep that in mind. Your exotic saves (Fort/Ref/Will) should average out to somewhere around PL-2. Otherwise you'll be getting destroyed all the time. Avoid odd ability scores (take that point and buy up his WIS, this character, as written, should not be stupider than the average person). Similarly, you need to meet combat caps. Remember, that's your highest Attack+your highest Damage/2 and your highest Defense+your highest Toughness/2= both should average up to whatever your PL is.

Out-Of-This-World Adventurer PL: 10 (150) Abilities: 38 pp STR 26 (+8) DEX 14 (+2) CON 14 (+2) INT 20 (+5) WIS 14 (+2) CHA 10 (+0) Combat: 24 pp ATK: +6 (+12 Melee) DEF: +12 (+3 flat-footed) Init: +6 Grapple: +20 Saves: 16 pp TOU +8 (+2 Con, +6 Protection) FORT +7 (+2 Con, +5) REF +7 (+2 Ref, +5) WILL +8 (+2 Wis, +6) Skills: 17 pp=68 r Craft (electronic) 5 (+10) Intimidate 12 (+12) Investigate 10 (+15) Knowledge: Technology 5 (+10) Languages 2 (English, Grue) (Base: Lor) Notice 8 (+10) Sense Motive 8 (+10) Stealth 13 (+15) Feats: 17 pp Attack Focus: Melee 6, Dodge Focus 6, Improved Initiative, Move-By Action Power Attack Takedown Attack Uncanny Dodge (auditory) Powers: 38 pp Device 5 (Flight Ring) (Hard to Lose) (PFs: Restrictedx2) [22 pp] -Enhanced Feat 1 (Quick Change) [1] -Flight 3 (50 MPH) [6] -Immunity 9 (Life Support) [9] -Impervious TOU 8 [8] -Space Flight 1 (1c) [1] Gadgets 1 (Hard to Lose) (Extras: Action [Free]) [9 pp] Protection 6 [6 pp] Speed 1 (10 MPH) [1 pp] costs abilities 38+ combat 24 + saves 16 + skills 17/68 + feats 17+ powers 38 = 150 pts ------- Design Notes: Here is an alien space bat: a costumed adventurer type powered by super-science that's totally out of this world. He could be from the future, a member of a legion of heroes centuries hence, or maybe he's an alien and part of a guard of powerful individuals who protects the interests of the Lor government. Either way, he's an interesting blend of several different types of characters with enormous flexibility thanks to his Gadgets: 5 pp may not seem like much, but changing it as a free action (while still meeting his offensive and defensive caps) is extremely useful. Feel free to push the limits of Silver/Bronze Age super-science all you want: If he needs a scanner to detect the weaknesses of his enemies, a specially focused strike to hit them where it hurts, or just a warp drive unit, he can summon it up as long as it only costs 5 pp. His Flight and Space Flight are both high enough to get around okay in their native element, but if he really wanted to go faster, he should pump it up with some kind of crazy space jetpack. His Flight Ring (which could also be a belt, or spacesuit) gives him great mobility and makes him much tougher than your average costumed adventurer. Wherever he lives he's an interesting spin on the costumed adventurer, a man whose great brain lets him compete with a world where super-technology is available to just about everyone. Despite his high INT, he doesn't have Inventor. In my experience, that doesn't come up enough in threads for non-science types to bother with it. It's a natural way to shift his focus a bit, though, if you are interested. I figure his Speed, Protection, and high base STR are all a product of whatever version of humanity (Lor or future) that he comes from. His Charisma's relatively low; wherever he's from isn't quite like here, and he's having some issues relating to people despite his great brain. That's okay, though, that's what his friends from around here are for to help him with. It's up to you where he's from; being from the distant future could cause just as many culture clashes as being from the heart of the Lor Republic. (Though really, someone from the future should have some Knowledge: history if you don't want them to sound like a cretin) Is he stranded here by accident or politics, or has he consciously chosen to make this alien place his home? Maybe this is Midnight Infinity, or Raven Infinity, or Geckoman Infinity (or any of our other costumed adventurer types) come back to the past to investigate the origins of his ancient legacy (hopefully he'll be glad about what he's found!) or maybe he's part of the personal guard of the Lor Counsel, and he's come to investigate the heroes of Earth for his own and his government's purposes. (Or perhaps he's a good man breaking from a wicked master, like Star-Khan!)

Up above, Victory caught sight of a winged man in armor working on the statue on top of the Civil War monument: a few moments later, he recognized Freedom Angel, the so-called angel who was a recent inductee into the Freedom League. When he had finished his work on the statue, polishing the marble to gleaming perfection, the angel made a perfect landing on the walkway below, soon catching sight of the approaching man in armor. "Hello," he said, his voice warm with reassurance. "I am the angel of Freedom. I am sorry if I have disturbed your meditation here, I simply wished to make sure the monuments were well-preserved."

An orange shape, half-invisible in the room's dim light, jumped onto Rick's overturned desk and gave a firm mroar. It was immediately recognizable as Erin's cat. As everyone stared at Rick and the cat, even Mark thinking for a moment that his father had actually gone insane, Rick said, "I knew you would have trouble believing me. I don't blame you, after everything I've done. That's why my friend wanted to talk to you too." And then Oliver's voice sounded in their heads. --Good morning. Please excuse my companion's demeanor. While his great power has been essential here, his erratic behavior has been nearly as threatening to our mutual enterprise.-- His tail lashing, the cat gave Rick a searing look before addressing the others again. --The devices in question are cosmic bombs, placed in four separate dimensions by the Lord of the Terminus in order to bring about the destruction of the multiverse. They destroy not matter or energy, but the stuff of the universe itself. Indeed, they are made of the same stuff as Omega's own flesh.-- He began to lick his paw. --Disabling them will be within your power, I believe, since they had to be made within the reach of bipeds in order that Omega's own agents could place them.-- He gave a slight harrumph, eying the others for questions.

Memorial Day, 2011 Fens Veterans Memorial Long after the parades and families and school children were gone, the angel finally landed at the veteran's cemetery. It was late dusk, enough that not many people were out in the Fens, a neighborhood so poor that even most criminals spurned the streets unless in desperate need of gain. For the moment, the angel of Freedom had no eyes for that, for now he focused simply on the old Union war memorial that loomed over his head. The rather weather-beaten soldier there had been standing on guard for quite some time, long enough that even the angels in Heaven had taken notice. "You've done your duty well," said the angel to the silent watchman, thinking not of the stone but of the soul that had gone into it. "Here, let me help." He flew up and landed on the top of the monument and began working with the cleanser he'd brought: angels knew a great deal about caring for marble statuary, and he'd researched ahead of time. And like all of his breed, when he set his mind to something, he did all he could for it.

Murdock sat alone at the campsite for a while, long enough for the stars to come out overhead. He'd have to change into Caradoc to fly back, but the idea of pulling that silver armor on seemed reassuring after the difficult conversation with Fulcrum. He had very few emotional conversations with people, much less ones that erupted as that one had, and he pored over it as he would a tactical recollection. Had he pressed her too hard? It was a serious question to ask himself. Friendly gestures were rare enough that the idea of pushing them away was certainly an ugly thought, much less one from a woman who had been as kind to him as Mona. Could I have said something different? Would I have said anything different? He remembered, though, her painful naivete about the Terminus and what it meant, the plans for the future that would only mean her demise, and the obdurate look of near-anger when he'd told her the truth: that there was nothing good, nothing pure, nothing worth saving beneath the power of the Terminus. "No," he said aloud, surprising himself with the volume of his voice. More quietly, though there was no one listening but the birds and the bees. "No, let her find justification for the powers she wields and the colors she wears elsewhere. I cannot save those who will not be saved. But I will not be the party to an innocent's destruction in the fires of the Terminus. Never again." And with that, his armor erupting from his body, Caradoc disappeared into the night, a shining star riding a column of fire.

I don't get it. "I don't...oh, I get it!" said Mark thoughtfully. "It's weird because it's normal rubber. Yeah, I suppose that is pretty strange. I've never even seen a rubber molecule before, that's kinda cool." He touched the picture thoughtfully. "The things I make almost always stay together, unless I'm really in a hurry and pushing myself in some weird way. The biggest I made was a water tower for my UNISON interview. It was big, like the ones in suburbs. The hardest part was filling it; I couldn't make the water and the tower at the same time, so I had to make a ladder and climb up there to do it."

Rick looked away. "I didn't have a plan. Not at first. I told you, I thought I could find a way to reconcile living on Earth with all this power, if I could just figure something out. And then I thought I could find some way to build a life outside the Earth altogether, but that didn't work..." Mark released him at that. He looked back at the chalkboard. "And then, my friend and I, we figured out what Omega was doing. We couldn't warn you without betraying you to the Terminus when you were already its target, much less come there and be powerless to do anything to stop what was coming." He focused on Mark. "Please don't blame your mother for this, Mark. I persuaded her that we needed to leave, I told her that...she didn't realize how long it would be. Or that coming back couldn't happen until the end. Even if she's covered for me with you, believe me! I'm to blame." "I knew you'd be able to stop them. My son and his friends have saved a universe already, why not all the universes. I've always believed that." He looked away again, tugging at his ear. "So my friend and I, we made plans, and made more friends, on all the worlds Omega has been threatening, so you won't have to go in alone." He eyed them all, urgency in his voice. "You have to go there, and find them, and the devices Omega planted to pull down the walls of reality, before the disaster strikes! You can stop this! All this! This is no copy of my house, Wander; this IS my house! One of the last decaying fragments of Earth-Prime, pulled away even as everything else plunged into the Doom Coil. But we don't have much time. Even now, Omegadrones are popping the last of these soap bubbles, and when they do, the death of the multiverse will be complete." He looked Mark in the eye. "It's too late for me. It's too late to save the man I used to be, the father you used to see me as. But it's not too late for you, or for everything else." Mark eyed his father, his usually open face almost impossible to read. "Where are the devices? What worlds do we need to visit?" His voice shaky, Rick looked away, back to the chalkboard. "They're scattered through four worlds adjoining Earth-Prime. One in the past, one in the future, two in the present. Erde-J-Nazi-1 in 1953; Earth-M-Lucas-1 today, Earth-C-Future-2 in 2035...and the last in Earth-Z-Omega-1 tomorrow."

"Heh, you can just call me Sharl, Eira. I'm only sixteen, I'm just old enough to be your babysitter. Being digital is pretty fun," said Sharl with a smile. "Miss A has built a whole room for us to play in, and I'll be able to talk you to different places inside the computer, so you can ride, uh, pretend horses and things. The best part is: you'll even get your own room!" He smiled; that being a special prize where he was from. "I know things are a little scary right now, but Miss A and Dragonfly and Magnus are really great scientists. It may not be easy, but we'll get through it, and you'll be in a computer, and then in a robot body!"

Okay, you're a trustworthy guy! Only one way to find out if it doesn't work in play. APPROVED

"We...we need to get in there," said Mark, pushing past his mother and down the slanted corridor. "I'll talk to you later!" he said, sounding madder at his mom than he'd ever felt. But what could he do, yell at her? Hit her? There was work to be done, and grief and betrayal and terrible loss were work for later. How petty his own emotions seemed, when confronted with all this horror. Wander's punch to the wall-turned-floor had indeed gone right through, and peering through the gap revealed a thinly-scattered starscape dotting a field of wavering, eerie red. He led the way down the slanted corridor in what had once been his family home, carefully up the slanted flight of stairs, until they reached his father's upstairs study. Rick Lucas was in the middle of pulling up an old-fashioned green chalkboard when his son climbed his way into the room through the now-wall-mounted doorway, followed by some of his friends. His hair greying and clothes like a 50s father at the barbecue, Rick looked almost comically normal despite the cantilevered furniture, the remains of his superhero career scattered around his feet like the ruins of his reputation. The chalkboard was already written on, dotted by four perfect circles with names and places on them. "You're here. Oh, thank God, you're all here. We can do this." Mark walked over and grabbed his dad by the collar, his face contorted with anger and absurd shame all at once. "Where are we? What did you do!? WHAT DID YOU DO?!" Rick didn't pull away, instead he faced Mark, and the other kids behind him. "I know how this looks. You look at me and you see a selfish old man who lured your mother away, who let the multiverse burn to get a few more minutes alone. But that's not it. I...we're in the Terminus. Omega has destroyed four of the key universes that supported Earth-Prime, causing a domino effect that crushed all the universes that lay below. And so now..." He looked away for a moment, as if not wanting to dwell on that. "...But it's not too late!" he grabbed his son's hands, his eyes wide. "My friends and I, we saw this coming, but we couldn't stop it. Our power against Omega's doesn't work that way, and warning you would only have come too late. But we can send you, all of you, back to stop all this before it started! The multiverse can be saved!"

Continued from >Noise of Thunder Mark felt first a whiteness, pure and all-embracing, then terrible, all-encompassing blackness, as if a quiet non-existence had been replaced with the certain knowledge of absolute destruction. And then he was waking up, his face pressed to an unfamiliar wooden surface that it took him a bizarre second to recognize: he was pressed against not the floor, but the far wall of his mother's art studio, surrounded by the furniture, art supplies, and his mother's scattered colored pencils that had all evidently taken a hard spin to the left at some point when the local gravity had taken a hard turn in the wrong direction. Pulling himself to his feet, he gazed around a room cast sideways and lit with an eerie red glow from outside. He counted off with his eyes: Wander, Midnight, Cobalt Templar, Sage, Trevor's grandfather, even his mother, all of them cast askew by the warped gravity just as the room's contents had been. Ignoring the shuttered window for a moment, not to mention of seeing the whole world swept away into nothingness, Mark focused right on Martha. "Mom? Are you all right? What happened?" He couldn't quite keep the judgement out of his voice; he'd had good reason to be angry with his parents for a long time now! For her part, Martha was dusting herself off. "Oh, Mark..." She embraced him. "I'm so sorry it happened like this, and that I left the way I did...but I saw you'd be all right and I had to spend what time I could with your father. I don't know if you can forgive me...but because we're all here, it was for a good cause." She let out a breath. "Your father is waiting for us in the study. For all of us. He'll explain everything."

But it was all too late, as a curtain of black fire came erupting from the horizon, spreading impossibly fast. They could hear screams from the city as the obsidian flame washed over everything, all it touched vanishing in an instant as if it had never been there at all. Edge just had time to erect a shield around Young Freedom before the wall hit, its impossible black light blotting out the world, its deafening roar like the howling of an unstoppable wind as it whipped around Mark's blue and gold bubble like a hurricane. Mark felt the comforting wall he'd thrown up begin to fry beneath that awful flame that was neither cold-nor-heat, like a wooden ball beginning to burn in an inferno. But this was no fire: this was the all-destroying conflagration of entropy itself. All around them, there was nothing but that terrible burning nothingness, the world having vanished with neither a bang or nor a whimper, even the ground beneath their feet beginning to cave way. "It's slipping, it's slipping, it's-" Beneath the all-destroying wash of pure searing entropy, Earth-Prime collapsed into the primordial nothingness that waited for all life and all existence at the last, terrible end of all things. With the destruction of the universal keystone, the entire universe that had once held this particular third planet from Sol began to pour into the firey chasm that had once been the Earth like a bathtub flowing into an open drain, pulling with it first all of the nearby chain of universes, then the others, as all of reality began its inexorable collapse into the Terminus. END OF PART ONE Continued in >Worn-Out Places

Suddenly, someone else was there, stepping out of the air as if she was stepping out of a door, interjecting herself into the camaraderie of the group. Those who'd been there for the depressing saga of Mark's family instantly recognized Martha Lucas. She grabbed her son by the shoulder and all but spun him around, her face pale. She wasn't in the camping gear she'd been wearing when Mark saw her last, instead she was in a bizarrely incongruous polo shirt and jeans that made her look like she'd just stepped off a golf course. "Mark," she said urgently, "Listen to me! You have to be ready right now! Right now or it'll be too late!" She was attracting a lot of attention; even in this crowd people didn't just step out of nowhere and shout about it in the process. "Mom, Mom, what's going on?" asked Mark with equal urgency, his heart suddenly racing at the sight of his missing parent. He asked the first question that came to mind, unable to keep the suspicion out of his voice. "...where's Dad?" Before she could answer, there came a low tremor in the ground, as if of a distant earthquake, a wind from the southwest blowing up hard, and the sky began to darken as if in eclipse. But from the surprised exclamations from the crowd, there was no eclipse scheduled for today...

"" said Sharl, giving the little girl a shaky smile of his own and a little wave. He forced himself to master his own fear, though, since so many people were counting on him, and reached over to pat her lightly on her other hand, his electronic hand tingling. He was glowing slightly and was translucent, enough that even a little girl like Eira could see right through him. "" he said with complete confidence, ""

"Go over and talk to them," Quo-Dis urged Corbin, giving him a solid punch on the arm when she caught him looking at his Young Freedom buddies over on one side of the quad. "Star and I can finish up here just fine, and those are your friends and comrades in battle. Who knows when you'll have a chance to talk to them soon, as busy as they're going to be today and this weekend." She grinned. "They'll need me to do the sound check and height check for Alex Albright anyway, so I won't be going anywhere. I'll be here when you get back, I promise." Mark stared at Eve, tilting his head in incomprehension for a moment. "Hey...hey you can talk! You can talk!" He unthinkingly swept his little friend up in a big bearhug, a look of joy on his face. "Oh man, that's wonderful! How did that happen?" he asked, full of a million questions. "Was it Dr. Marquez? Because I've been seeing him a lot lately, and he does great therapy. Wow! That's great! I can't believe you can talk!" He set her down, looking really happy. "Man...do your folks know? Does Faith?"

"Uh, more of a gut thing, definitely. I was never very good in school," Edge admitted. "I mean, I got lucky when it came test-time, every time, and they asked about things I was expecting, or I just guessed all the way through and got good grades like I did on the SATs. All this science stuff...I never thought I'd need it, so I never bothered to learn it." He scratched the back of his head, a little awkwardly, before moving on. "Hey, are you really from Britain? That's neat. Did you ever work with Troy Griffin over at the Ministry of Powers? He's an old friend of my grandpa's and I met him a couple of times. He's a nice guy." Under the examination in the atom-smasher, Supercape found that the rubber ball was good old-fashioned latex rubber all the way down; it had even been vulcanized. Somehow the mass of that space had increased tremendously!

"Thank you, sir," said Mark with the sort of respectful politeness you used with your friend's grandpa. His awesome superhero grandpa, that is. "It's been a long road, but we're all glad to be at the end of it." He grinned, and clapped Trevor on the shoulder. "I know I wouldn't have made it this far if not for your grandson here." Truthfully, he felt a little better just seeing the elder Midnight there, knowing that the older generation hadn't abandoned them after all. "Hey Eve," he said with a little nod her way. "How's it going?"

Citizen was polite, and didn't comment on how primitive the hospital was. What kind of thing would that be to say, anyway? he asked himself, a little angry he'd even had thoughts like that about these nice people who didn't have anti-grav or tissue regeneration devices. They were doing the best with what they had. "And I'll want to spend some time looking at the computers," he said. "Miss A and I brought over the custom unit we'll be using for Eira, of course, but you can't be too careful. I've had to be stored in emergency places before, so I'll make sure we have spare storage media for her too."

"I have lived my life in the shadow of the black flame that gives no heat, gives no light, and can never be put out. When I see it burning in another, I know it." He listened to her plans and replied, " I tell you only what I learned on the streets, and what I heard at Omega's side. If you journey into the Terminus to destroy the Doom Coil, I encourage you to end your relationship with Viktor Archeville and to have a telepath scourge your memory of any recollection of vital access codes or security defenses of Earth-Prime." He certainly knew none of those, being what he was. "Or if you prefer, take him with you, so that you may meet your fate together." He fell silent at that for a moment, sussing out her reaction, before he said, "I do not say this to dishearten you or frighten you. If you undertake the quest of which you have spoken, you will be fortunate to die. I have heard it said there is sanctity in noble death, Mona, but I have seen nobility die in its millions alongside a billion others. Make your choices carefully."