Avenger Assembled

He seems a grand fella! The powers, and the look, make a terrible sense. APPROVED

"I am all that is left of those places. If I don't remember them, no one will." He lifted his pike for Miss A's inspection, snapping it open as the blade gleamed wickedly. It soon became obvious that this was much more powerful than the power pikes she'd seen in her high-level sciences courses: this was a weapon powerful enough to fight superhumans on even terms. And its power source seemed...to be absent, and yet it still glowed and hissed. "There are survivors of lost worlds in the Terminus," he added. "It's how beings besides Omega came to live there. But not every world has those who live."

"Yes. There can be no redemption. No atonement. It is too much." He thought of billions dead on thousands of worlds, hundreds and thousands dead and worse at his hand. Bloodscreamsbloodscreamsbloodscreamsandthesmellofash...The armor closed over his legs, first one, then another, then gradually over his torso. "But if I can live so that one innocent may live, my life can have a purpose that I choose for myself. And I choose to be free." The armor finished opening, and there was a faceless, souless Omegadrone on Miss A's table. "My heritage is entirely human. My parents' homeworld destroyed all those of alien ancestry, before they were themselves destroyed."

"The work is done," called Talos, calling all the teen heroes together onto the platform suddenly. He made them stand on the big flat gear of the great machine, each one on a tooth, with one even for Daisy by herself, while he prepared to throw the great lever. "Begone from this place, with my blessing!" he called as he threw the switch. "And remember, you are not guilty of the crimes you have seen here!" he called as the portal opened above their heads and began pulling them all in, the familiar, friendly shape of Claremont visible before them. "Live for justice, not for revenge!" And the portal reached out, and began to tug at them, but it soon became obvious that they weren't alone in the wormhole...

Hex put on a convincing show of sprattling and dying, even voiding himself and twitching as he hit the floor. But though the Blank had taken quite a few more lives with his bare hands (and blades, and bullets when he was practicing at range) than Hex had, the truth was Hex had _seen_ more people die. He liked to watch, and he made a good show of it as he hit the floor. It didn't take him long to figure out the Blank's game: the perverted lust the faceless assassin had so barely concealed around Singularity had evidently come boiling out at just the wrong moment for everyone. He ignored Thrash and the Prince in Yellow; if they were smart, they'd follow the top dog, and if they weren't smart, they didn't belong on his team. The trick was making sure you wound up the top dog. He knew he was dead if he got another good hit. But even now, he couldn't bring himself to fear that. Dying is for people without a card. Dying...I like that! "Hey, Blanket! Your weapon's too short for full penetration! Sound familiar? Ahahahaha!" And then suddenly black and whirling dots were lashing out right through the whiteout effect, enfolding Trevor and Erin, and...then vanishing up to the ceiling without actually doing anything. ...ah, nuts. Welp, been a good run. Guess Dad was right about seeing me in Hell! Someone was advancing on him in the white, and advancing fast, so he spoke quickly to get his last insult out. "Hah-hah, coitus interruptus! What can I say, your girlfriend really brings it out in-" And then all was still, and he's never even seen who'd done it. And then there was the sound like the great and terrible ticking of a clock, and the white, and all their other powers faded as suddenly Hex's no-longer bleeding body , Singularity, the Blank, the Prince in Yellow, and Thrash were sucked upwards into the whirling black portal of a temporal vortex, the energies inexorably drawing them all through the gateway, the familiar shape of the Syndicate's Academy beckoning above their heads! But they were passing someone else along the way...

For a second, Lance thought he wasn't going to get any response at all from the taciturn Omegadrone. But then Murdock spoke, his voice slow and distinct, as he replied, "I recall everything that I perceived during my time as an Omegadrone. It is the years before that fade, since they were unnecessary for the continued function of my neurological modifications." And with those words, his helmet erupted from his head, facial skin sliding away to reveal bone and tissue that just as suddenly gave way to a flat, featureless expanse of a face. "I can never forget." His voice was flat and affectless through the synthesizer of his armor, but even then the two could hear the emotion pulling at the edges of the mechanized voice.

"I estimate I was assimilated seventy-five years ago by your calendar." At the Omegadrone's words, the armor began slowly sliding out through and over his arms, clearly passing through the lines in his flesh without cutting, a terrible, beautiful origami snowflake of steel and death inside a too-fragile human flesh. "This is a guess. The Terminus uses no calendar but Omega's will. My parents were old enough to remember the date before their world was lost. I have extrapolated what I could since." Both his arms were now covered, the quiet of the lab making the slightly wet clunk-clunk-clunk of his armor unfolding all the louder, inside the fractally-folded metal in his bones opening like a flower as it slid through his skin and out. "I am probably a century old. Without access to the repair systems used for drones, I will likely age and die as a normal man."

"Ah, yeah, Eddie's a former student, but he's not with us anymore." Mark's mouth worked for a moment, but it looked like it was a sore subject. "Let's just say that if you screw up badly enough, you can get expelled from here the same as anywhere else. But let's talk about something else." Like a switch had been flipped, Mark brightened. "Hey, you like Chinese? We can get out of here, grab some Chinese, and I'll tell you about the school. Yeah, let's go get Chinese!" Mark, it was already clear, had a very strong personality.

"Uh, no sir," said Mark, shooting a look at Travis Hunter. "She takes Valium before bed," he confessed quietly to the old man, "sometimes...sometimes a lot, but the pharmacy was closed yesterday and I don't think she was able to make it there before we got here..." Martha was sitting quite contentedly by herself, having politely thanked Travis for the offer of tea, but she reached up to give Mark a big hug. "I love you, Mom," Mark murmured to his mother. "I'm sorry I couldn't stop this before it started, or keep you safe at home." "It's all right, dear," said Martha seriously, looking up at her tall son. "Mark, I know that your work is very important to you, and to the world. You and your friends will save the day, and you'll save the city. Just like you'll save Mr. Hunter and I. Don't blame yourself for any of this." She took her son's hand and focused on him as if by sheer force of will. "You go with your friends," she said. "I'm in good hands here." "Okay, Mom," said Mark, bending down to kiss his mother's cheek. "I love you." Passing Travis, he murmured softly, "Thank you for watching my mother, sir. You're still a hero to me." He went over and joined his friends, pulling his mask down over his face. "Okay, people," he said, flexing his fingers. "Our city's in peril. People are suffering. Let's go save the day."

Editing Mark/Edge 13 pp to spend 1 more rank of Luck [1 pp] One more rank of Luck Control, for a total of 4 [3 pp] You can spend one of your hero points to negate someone else’s use of a hero point or a use of Gamemaster fiat (see Gamemaster Fiat, M&M, page 124). This also eliminates the setback of the fiat, so no hero points are awarded for it. 6 pp added to Reality Warping Array, producing the following changes [6 pp] BP: Probability Control 10 (Extras: Fortune, Area/Burst [50 foot radius]; Selective Attack, Flaws: Limited [Fortune only]) (PFs: Precise, Subtle [requires magic senses]) (62 pp) AP: Blast 14 (Extras: Area/Burst [70 foot radius]; Selective Attack, Flaw: Touch Range, PFs: Indirect 3, Progression 5 [500 foot cubes, 35000 square feet]) [unlikely accidents] and Immunity 1 (own powers) [50 pp] AP: Blast 14 (Extras: Autofire (2) [reduced interval]) (PFs: Improved Crit 2, Incurable, Power Attack, Precise, Reversible) (62 pp) AP: Create Object 14 (Extras: Duration-[Continous], Moveable) (PFs: Innate, Precise, Progression 2 [14 25 foot cubes], Selective, Subtle) (62 pp) AP: Move Object 14 (Heavy Load: 200 tons) (Extras: Damaging, Perception Range) (PFs: Indirectx3, Subtle) (60 pp) AP: Transform 10 (inanimate to inanimate) (1000 lbs) (Extras: Affects Objects, Duration-[Continous]) (Flaws: Limited [Objects]) (PFs: Innate, Reversible) (62 pp) Add one AP to Mark's reality warping array [1 pp] AP: Teleport 18 (anywhere in the Galaxy) (Extra: Accurate) (PFs: Easy, Change Direction, Change Velocity, Progression 4 (2500 lbs), Turnabout) [62 pp] Teleporting seems a natural power for a reality warper, eh? With the descriptors: magic and Luckily, He Was Actually OK, respectively Immunity 1 (aging) [1 pp] Regeneration 1 (Resurrection 1/week [True]) [1 pp] Replace Mark's existing complications with: Allies (Heroes of World War II and the Silver Age) Enemy (Nazis) Friend (Midnight II, old chum) Reputation (Defend the family honor) Responsibility (Young Freedom, Martha Lucas) Rivalry (Rick Lucas) Turf (Claremont Academy, Lucas family house) Secret (The Lucas family has shaken many horrors from its closet) Secret (The Terminus is coming) And I think that's all. Doktor'd

...and what action (and trigger) would that be, Lone-Star?

"I have a knife," said Martha suddenly. "Do you need a knife, Erin?" she asked. Reaching into her ample sleeve, she pulled out a shockingly sharp, wicked blade (at least by the standards of what you expected to find up Martha Lucas' sleeve) and showed it to her. Mark stared at his mother, shock overriding the confidence he'd felt after blasting the zombies. "Mom...why do you have a knife?" Mark hadn't mentioned his constant worries about his mother's sanity to his friends much, but it was certainly on display now. No, no, surely she had perfectly innocent reasons for carrying that big monster around. "Well you know, dear, your father's gardening shears give me such a pain in my wrists, and I can't very well go cutting off daisy heads and go back and work at my easel," she said with a little shrug. "This might not help you much, though, it's not long enough to penetrate well." "I...I think it's probably best if we keep that here," said Mark, swallowing hard. "I mean, Erin's really strong, you don't want to risk her breaking the knife. Why don't I just make her something she can carry if Trevor doesn't have anything handy?" He was sure Trevor did from the look on his face, but he wanted to distract himself as much as his mom right now. Maybe Mr. Hunter will be able to get her to make some soup or something...or maybe have a nap... "Oh, very well, make her something," said Martha, "but make sure it's a shovel, a weaponized one, like that one your father brought home from Shamballa Vale." She caught her son's look and said, "A heavy blade to destroy the brain, but with one end sharpened for cutting and hacking. It's what you need in these situations." As a slightly shell-shocked Mark did just that, producing a Shaolin shovel for Erin, Martha confided to Trevor and Erin, "I've been very concerned about intruders in our neighborhood, so I've been doing research."

"You will _not_ appear together," rumbled Talos immediately. "That would cause them to appear in my fortress, and even with their usual in-fighting..." he gave a noise that was almost a laugh at the self-inflicted carnage on the screen. "I would prefer another solution." On a filthy map of the city glued to the wall, Talos indicated "They will appear in the Syndicate base, just as you will appear in the place that you left." He rose to his feet, his metallic face falling in a frown, and joined Trevor and the others at their work. "The work is nearly finished." Across the room, Mark winced as his double got what he was coming to him. He felt good at seeing a monster defeated, but seeing his own face twisted with mortal agony brought back so many memories...he rubbed his chest sympathetically, remembering his own 'death' and resurrection. He wondered if that other Mark had a father who cared about him. Remembering that face from the night before, somehow he doubted it. Well, I guess we know who won. The good team is about to go home, and the evil team is killing each other off. Next to him, Daisy had no such reservations: she was screaming in triumph as the other Mark collapsed, and shouting suggestions to the Blank about where he might use that knife again and what trophies he should take for her. Mark decided to busy himself with helping finish the machine, and leave her to the victory she'd seen.

Drained! Injured x2, Stunned He's now at an unhealthy +2 Toughness vs. lethal. He's dead all right. And Hex is out of HP. We'll argue later if he gets to have Complications. OK, I believe Thrash is up after the Blank finishes his actions.

Hex spends an HP to make her roll: he fails (3) Hex spends an HP on Ultimate Toughness (2) He is injured, stunned, and staggered. I'll say his attack still goes off, since he had a readied action. Hex spends an HP to reroll his terrible attack. (1) OK, that's a DC 33 Tou save for Wander.

Hex readies an action: To use Blast 13 (Extra: Autofire (2) ) vs Singularity when she appears.

"Hmmph." Hex slid down himself, not bothering to conceal himself as he slid into the broken office floor. Stupid cattle, he thought contemptously as he gazed at Singularity's battered victims. Maybe if the sissies who ran this place bothered to put the fear of supers in these zips, they'd have been smart enough to get out of Singularity's way. Never make a good freeman out of someone who should be a slave. He walked into the room, not bothering to conceal himself. It wasn't _just_ arrogance that let him be so obvious, though certainly his own faith in his superiority was absolute. But if Singularity was hiding from him, the Blank would be able to catch her. "Singularity!" he called. "You're beginning to make me angry! You don't want me to tell your friend Pathos, do you? She'll be angry too!"

While Erin and Trevor had their moment, Mark got his mother settled in one of the control chairs, sitting alongside Midnight I. With his mom calmed down, Mark was able to relax a little, and focus on the presence of one of the world's greatest heroes. Frankly, that made it a little difficult to talk, or even think, but he was willing to work through it as some of his recent practice sessions triggered something in his brain. I can see them, right? So I should be able to... "Mr...uh, Mr. Midnight?" he asked the elderly Travis, "can you get all these pointing to zombies? Sir?" he asked, pointing to the screens. Watching his grandson's interplay with interest, the old man nodded, his age forcing him to actually turn and watch the work before turning back. While the emotional moment went on, Mark stared at the zombies on screen: a good-sized mob of decaying corpses shambling their way past the locked-down First National Bank on Main Street. He began muttering under his breath "You don't belong here you don't belong here you don't belong here go away go away go AWAY!" At his words, suddenly the lead zombie exploded in a shower of black bubbles, startling the whole horde into immobility for a moment. A second later, he blew up another one. "Boo-yah...I mean, uh..." He shot a look over at Erin and Trevor, pulling himself out of zombie-killing mode for a moment, and said simply, "Hey. You guys are my best friends, and the best heroes I know. It's not my place to tell you what you should do, but I know you'll do the right thing. You're heroes. That's what we do." He looked back at the zombie screen and blew one up chasing a little kid. "I hate zombies!"

"Saying what?" Murdock looked at Lance, confusion furrowing his lined brow for a moment, before he focused again on the soothing lights and images. "I am capable of slowing the activation of my armor if you would prefer a longer exposure," the drone added for Miss A's benefit. "I am unfamiliar with your detection equipment's specifications." Miss A could just make out the incredible complexity of the larger units embedded at the base of Murdock's spine, with the suggestion of a treasure box of super-tech buried inside him...even if it was of course Terminus tech. "The only thing I cannot demonstrate safely in this spot is my self-propulsion system."

Eventually, with the machine half-built, they were able to get a view into their home dimension: a view of their counterparts and the mischief they were working. They wound up looking at Erin's double first, thanks to the unusual knot of emotions surrounding her. As Talos explained, the other Erin was an anchor in the space-time continuum, just like Erin herself. The first thing they saw was the wide-eyed face, the second the bloody hands and all-too-familiar purple pajamas, and finally the broken, moaning bodies propped up all around the girl in what looked like an office park. Some of the bodies weren't moving at all.

29 to hit Rerolled Grapple for a total of 15+33=48

Fusion did what she usually did in underwater battles: she swore violently and lashed out with her tentacles, doing her best to ensnare the beast before her in her powerful, nigh-unbreakable grip. She hadn't been hurt by the creature's surprise attack, but it could still have done some damage. _You're not fighting some air-breathing shrimp now!_ she spat through the water. _I'm the mighty Fusion! Back off right now, or I'll crush you like a surfacer in Atlantis!_

25, unhurt!

Murdock walked up to the observation table, his weight heavy on the floor just as Lance's had been, and looked at Miss A to speak three words. "In or out?" When she told him, he retracted his armor, storing his pike at his waist, and climbed onto the table. His heartrate went up, and he made a conscious choice to rest his hands on his chest. She will not attempt to restrain me. This is not the Happy Hospice. It soon became obvious that Murdock's internal anatomy was decidedly odd. His bones had been replaced with fractral constructions of impossible depth, Miss A's scanners showing her ever-increasing levels of complexity as far down as she could resolve. A particularly massive construction lay along his spine, while another occupied most of his head, but his entire body was permeated with the Terminus technology. His skin and human organs were more of a shell over an unfolding metal frame than a regular body. It was very little like earthly cyborgs.

"Mom, mom, you don't have to dust down here," Trevor and Erin heard Mark say, the twinge in his voice showing how often he'd had this conversation recently. "You can just look around, and see how nice the Midnight Cave is! Look, there's the giant silver dollar the first Midnight stole before the Aryan Ape could use it to summon a million silver apes, each more Nazi than the last!" Mark watched his mother, worried, as she relaxed and nodded, listening as her son gave her a tour gleaned from the knowledge of the Midnight Cave he'd gleaned from reading many, many Golden Age comic books. It had all been surprisingly accurate, too, back before about 1950 when Midnight had done his first renovations. _It was a different time_, Travis had explained once to Trevor about the now-repaired security breach. On the streets of Freedom City, the dead had risen and were voting Republican! Or at least getting into mischief, which some might say was the same. The security cameras revealed a city in chaos, but not quite in jeopardy, heroes and policemen and civilians rallying to fight the slow-moving, shambling hordes. But gradually, though, a closer look across the city revealed other monsters: there was a giant undead hurling cars, there one extended a long tongue, and there one particular horde ran fast as lightning! It took several minutes to pick out all the threats across the city on the old monitors, and they were not pleasant minutes either.