KnightDisciple

For a while, Cobalt Templar simply helped with the repairs, mostly by holding parts in place as the others reshaped or reattached them. Occasionally he'd mention something he'd noticed that would speed the repair; otherwise, he was pensively quiet. "How much do we need to wreck in Freedom City?" He was still watching the work on the bike, but it was clear he was speaking to Red Falcon. "To cut the Terminus connection, that is. Even if this place doesn't get reality-bombed, seems like a good idea to keep them from getting anything out of absorbing this place. Or whatever it is they do."

Cobalt Templar Horse of a Different Color AD 2525 Long ago, in a land far across the sea from the great Freedom City, there was a prosperous land beset by many enemies. One day, many of the wisest and most powerful mages of the land gathered together. Individually, they could call upon the primal power of creation, the fire that forged the world, and had equal potential to destroy, if necessary. They would equip a small group of champions with the power to face armies. Seven weapons they forged. Seven champions they chose. Each empowered in a different way, by a different virtue. Individually, they were powerful, but together, they were virtually invincible. Their Leader bore a Sword that burned with the Fire of Willpower, that harnessed the Holy powers of Creation and Judgement. But all good things come to an end. It came to pass that some of the warriors fell away from their mission. In one way or another, they were corrupted, and they fell to tyranny of one kind or another. Time passed, and their weapons were lost, buried for centuries, to be discovered by those who were worthy in the future.Until one day, a long time after it was buried, the Sword was found again. It was not discovered by a mighty warrior, a noble diplomat, a leader of men of any sort. Instead, it was a boy on the cusp of manhood, who was exploring an ancient site for the sheer joy of knowledge. He came upon the sword; it chose him. From that day forward, he was no longer a mere young adult. He was a champion of good, who took a champion's name: Cobalt Templar. An imposing sight he was, clad head to toe in enchanted armor that the sword could summon at will; it made him appear as a knight of old, yet was sleeker than any armor such knights had borne in the days of yore. The sword itself was a mighty tool, able to raise walls, or bring them down just as easily; it extended his reach with a ghostly hand of fire, and allowed him to strike enemies near and far. Even more amazingly, he could fly across the sky as he rode a horse of brilliant blue flames, its hooves leaving a terrible fiery trail across the clouds. For many years this Templar fought the good fight; he battled foes of all shapes and sizes, sometimes being applauded as a hero, but sometimes fighting battles no one ever really heard about. He worked with many of the other great heroes of the age, and together their fellowship was an unstoppable force. He even found love among his peers, with a woman of otherworldly beauty who he shared his inmost being with. Their love was subtle and powerful all at once, and it was a bond set for the ages. Through it all, he was a champion for the attacked, the oppressed, the innocent, the powerless. He was a true warrior-protector, and he never lost sight of his mission in life. But as years passed to decades, the Templar discovered a gift that could be seen as a curse: while many of his friends aged, and eventually died, he himself was forever young. He and his love sat and watched as the world changed around them. It took many decades, centuries even, but the day came where he knew his time on this world had passed. So it was that one day his sword was found driven into a stone in the wilderness outside Freedom City. The rock bore an inscription: "Only one who is worthy of the Fires of Creation will draw forth this sword. Only one whose Willpower is unbreakable can call upon this Sword." Of the Templar, there was no sign. It was as if he had vanished into thin air! To this day, the sword sits in that stone. Waiting, watching, for the day when a worthy person comes along to use its mighty power.

Marines typically don't actively fight underwater, but they are required to be able to do an amphibious landing, which may involve partial submersion. Don't take this as 100%, but I think guns would technically work underwater, but at a massively reduced effectiveness. Not because of "wet propellant" (that's what sealed cartridges are for), but because the water might present enough counter-pressure to impede normal functionality of bullet physics.

You are correct. Per Wikipedia: So at least basic swim skills are an early requirement in Marine training. Edrobot, if you feel that stretches your skill points too much, the US Army does not carry that same requirement in their basic training. And really, there's nothing wrong with being from the Army. :)

"Sounds like we just need to make sure this world doesn't fall." He frowned a bit. "I guess my one big question is...if they've got a beachhead here, what's to stop them from making another bomb and putting it here again? I mean, the other dimensions, they'll probably be on higher alert. Harder to get these things in. But..." He lapses into silence, glancing towards Erin. He didn't know the full depth of her story. He'd caught edges of it, and could infer this place was bad memories for her. But there was a lot at stake. "But it sounds like they've got a base or something here. Just how large are the forces of the Terminus in this place, right now?"

For his part, Gabriel had slipped into the kitchen when the bees started up their song; after all that flying and singing and voice-projecting, he needed a drink. Of course, he found a box of crackers, and had to grab a couple of handfuls to get back a bit more energy, too. All that sonic energy didn't come for free! Still, when it was time for visitors to come see the child, the hero in white came into the room, all smiles. "Congratulations! Both of you! A daughter! What did you decide on for the name, again? I think you told me earlier, but all the excitement in here and outside kind of pushed it from my mind." He reached down to gently poke the nose of the adorable child, humming a gentle tune as he does so.

Cobalt Templar stood there in mild shock for a couple of precious seconds; the war in the sky and the rapid transit between worlds had left him feeling a bit outpaced. And then a building tried to fall on him. Unfortunately, he wasn't quite quick enough on his feet or in flight to avoid it. He got a bit closer to the edge, but a lot of debris still fell on him. It didn't take long before his form was covered in rubble. Once the major debris had settled, the pieces of building around where he had stood started to shake, before they were punched out of the way by one of Corbin's arms wreathed in energy. He pulled himself out of the wreckage, floating just above it. The young man in blue grimaced as he rubbed his left shoulder. "I'm intact. Took some good bumps there, though. Guess it takes more than a building falling on me to knock my hard head out." His smile was a bit forced as he carefully made his way towards the others.

25. Ouch. I'd need a natural 20 to make that reflex save. This is not a natural 20. DC 30 Toughness? Almost doable. 27; that's only a Bruise, so I'll take it.

For long moments, Cobalt Templar stood there, his expression unreadable as he considered his possible future daughter; his only real movement was an unconscious fiddling with his blue ring. It seemed clearer where Vril Knight had picked up the habit. Then, suddenly, he took two big steps forward and enveloped her in a bear hug. It was surprising to realize she was within 2 inches of his height, though she didn't have quite as intimidating of a build. He spoke to her using the same psychic link. "I know she does. Even if she doesn't act like some girls do. That just makes me love her more. Did I mention I'm proud of you? Because I am. And I know I'm proud of you, too. I don't think he and I are that different." He released the hug and took a step back, keeping a gentle grip on her shoulders as he continued to mind-speak at her, a sad smile on his face. "You'd make me proud no matter what, but to see you being a hero like this, it's icing on the cake. I'm sorry he can't be here to say this to you. But you and I both know why he did what he did. And your mother loves you, I'm sure. She just handles grief in her own way. Don't forget to call her once in a while. I..." His eyes closed in pain for a moment. "Your mother was the last thing I saw when the dark fire took it all away. Right now, I'm not fighting to save the whole multiverse. That's too big, even for my inconveniently large shoulders. Me, I'm fighting for Quo-Dis. For my parents. For my other friends on that Earth. I'm fighting so that one day, I can see you grow up with my own two eyes, and be a proud father all over again." A single blue-tinged tear started down his face, but it dried away in an instant. Corbin enveloped his possible future daughter in another hug. "So you just keep doing what you're doing, and don't forget to enjoy life while you're at it. Or I promise, the other me will come back as a ghost and give you a lecture like your grandparents use to give him. Fare thee well, daughter of my possible future." He couldn't fight the smile that had crept onto his face. He released the hug and walked over to be with the other members of his Young Freedom. There was still work to do, after all.

Gabriel had been hovering a bit lower than the mighty chorus of bees, giving his voice a bit of a rest after coordinating what started as a nearly infernal racket. He turned to face Jill, confusion showing on his face for a brief moment before comprehension, and then joy dawned on his features. 'Man, I got lost in the song there for a minute.' He couldn't help himself with what came next; it felt as natural as breathing to him at that moment. He took a deep breath, and when he next spoke, his voice echoed out. Not to the edge of the forest, or the former boundaries of the state, or even the continent; no, Gabriel's words rang out to the uttermost parts of the earth. They sang in everyone's ears like a gentle wind, like bells softly ringing, rather than thunder roaring. "Lift your voices with joy, all people and creatures! Welcome this new life to the world! Witness the blessings of the Lord! Witness the birth of a child of Star and Forest!" The echo of his words faded, just in time for him to rocket up into the sky, higher and higher and faster and faster, until he was at the very edge of his flight ability. He hung there, where the air was almost dangerously thin, before suddenly rocketing back down. Within seconds, he flew right over the plant-house, his passage like a distant rumble of gentle thunder. He looped around and landed near the door of the cottage, a huge smile on his face as he caught his breath.

Gabriel's expression shifts from "mildly amused" to "annoyed" so fast the audience might get whiplash. "Did I not just state there are certainly examples at the extreme edges of magic that are influenced by their source? Would that not include the likes of infernalism and the darkest necromancy? Or is it a mark of professionalism to engage in selective hearing?" He calmly arched a brow at that question before pressing on. "As for Siobhan, I think there is a saying from a book I greatly enjoy that applies here: No good tree bears bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit. Each tree is recognized by its own fruit. People do not pick figs from thornbushes, or grapes from briers. A good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and an evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of. The Gospel of Luke. Chapter 6, verses 43-45. The point being, of course, that we need only look at the fruits of her life to see that she is surely not empowered by some wicked, malicious energy. And to head you off at the pass of "oh, but what about the fruit of evil mages", I'd remind you that it is, in the end, the choices people make that mark them as "good" or "evil" people. After all, I've seen technology work to harm scores of people, more often than magic, in fact."

Cobalt Templar nodded as the plan was formed, and he blazed a trail down into the complex until they reached the corridor with the hulking Gremlin. His face set itself in a grim line as Edge laid out the stakes. "Don't worry. I'll just leave him a few bruises and a killer headache." With that, he flew like a fiery comet through the air, a huge war mallet materialized in his hands, and he brought it down in an earth-shattering overhead blow upon his enemy's shoulder. "Let's you and me scrap, ugly!"

LLEEEERR-I'll stop now. Anyways. Move Action: Fly up to Gremlin All-Out Attack 2: Defense now +3, Attack now +11 Power Attack 2: Attack now +9, DC now 26 Standard Action: Strike/Melee Attack on Gremlin! 14; that is not enough to hit, so...Hero Point to reroll! 28 is much nicer, but I shall save his other HP for now. That will be a Toughness Save DC 26.

24, how about that! Maybe I'll get to go first this time! :P

Gabriel closed his eyes in frustration. So close, yet so far! But he couldn't give up yet, oh no! He stopped his acrobatics and zoomed to a position roughly in the middle of the cloud of bees. He took a stern stance, arms crossed over his chest, a slight frown on his face. Then he spoke, with power and authority, his voice catching the ear of all the bees, Freedom Angel, and Gaian Knight, but not bothering those in the house at all. No matter the volume of the bee-song, he would be heard. " Bees of Sanctuary, residents new and old! Please! While your spirited competition, and desire to joyfully usher in this new life is appreciated, what we need right now is some harmony. We shall sing one song, each of us doing our part, and the result shall be more beautiful than what we could accomplish on our own! Now! All of you larger bees, I'm giving you the bass part here; nothing to be ashamed of, just the way your voices are. Here, listen for the pitch." With that, Gabriel tonelessly sings a few notes in a strong bass voice, the lower-than-normal pitch straining his voicebox a bit, but still not outside his talents. "Excellent! And you lot, the ones that are a touch smaller, your voices pitch higher and faster. I'll give you the tenor section. Listen closely now!" He does the same for the robo-bees, his voice rising to meet the challenge, though he seems relieved when he stops. "I'll be doing baritone; Freedom Angel and Gaian Knight can join in where they'd like. Now, everyone, keep your pitch and warm up with me." He runs through a quick "do re mi" set, eventually as satisfied as he's going to get. He nods, then gestures for them to fly about once more. His voice is still audible to everyone it was before, even as the storm of wings continues. "One, one, one, two, three go!" Suddenly, his rich singing voice can be heard by those in the house with ease. In the worst case, he'll increase the volume a touch so it masks the bee-singing a bit; hopefully his 5-minute vocal lesson helps smooth things over. "Go forth to life, O child of earth! Still mindful of thy heav’nly birth; Thou art not here for ease, or sin, But manhood’s noble crown to win."

Magnus nodded at Miss Americana's question. He seemed thoughtful for a moment before speaking. "They might need three days or so to take care of some things here, but otherwise I think they're coming to America. I actually bought a house not far from mine in anticipation of such an event; they'll be able to live there, but I suspect much of their time will be at the Lab with Eira. Bernhard can teleconference when he needs to work, which shouldn't be too frequent. Let me bring them over to ask for sure." He stepped over to Eira's mother and father, apologizing to the little girl for taking them away for a moment, before guiding them back to the star-spangled heroine. They heard out Magnus's proposal on the situation, before nodding. "Yes, Magnus is correct. We will need to take a couple of days to make arrangements for our absence, but we will be moving to America as soon as we can. We thank you again, from the bottom of our hearts." "I'll make some calls after a bit, get the balls rolling on the move; my agents already closed the deal on the house two days ago."

Cobalt Templar returned the look with a pensive expression. "Hm." And then they were off, and in the blink of an eye, they were on the fusion plant platform. Before he knew it, the Wolfpack had surrendered and explained their reasoning for changing their minds. It made at least a degree of sense. He tensed when the footage of the beastly version of Gremlin was displayed. "That's bad." He glanced at the others. "I'm no good at disarming stuff. I'll try to keep this fella busy." He hovered into the air and started flying towards the building, before he stopped and turned to the group. His voice was sheepish when he spoke up. "...How do I get down to where he is without making a total mess of the halls?"

Gabriel A Life of Sacrifice March 19th, 2525 In this day and age, the church at the outskirts of Freedom City had seen better days. It wasn't precisely poor, but it was always tight on budget, and often this meant that things like the shingles or the paint were let go. Even with the constant presence of Doctor Metropolis, keeping the building from decaying to a truly unworkable state, the house of worship could easily be called “well wornâ€. Add to that the recent swell of popularity of the Unification movement, and it's easy to see why the old place is barely more than half-full on the best of days. Still, the people who do attend have a sincerity to their faith, a contentment to their personage, that many others might lack. The group who ministers to the needs of the congregation are devoted and energetic, which helps at least maintain their current numbers. Today is an interesting day; normally, Mondays do not see a full gathering of the church body, though there may be small prayer meetings or the like. But today, they are gathered to remember a saint from days past, one whose deeds had grown (and faded) into legend. The quiet chatter, especially among the children, faded as the minister took the pulpit wearing his plain brown robe that indicated his status as senior minister. He was a kindly man, somewhere in his 70s with thin gray hair and a great big bushy beard that framed a mouth that was almost always set in a smile. He cleared his throat, took a sip of water from a conveniently placed glass, and began to speak. “Brother and sisters, I know many of you looked forward to today. Each year, we gather here and tell the story of a great hero of the faith in ages gone by. Many have declared our faith outdated, irrelevant. That we can do no good. But each day, everyone one of us does good in some place, in some way. We look to these heroes of the past as examples we aspire to, as living proof we can make an impact on the world. Maybe we won't go around saving the city from the tyranny of some insane person in a gaudy costume, but we can still help others with our time and money. Today, I wish to tell you of one of our greatest saints and heroes: Saint Gabriel the Lesser. He grew up as one like ourselves, a simple churchgoing man who found himself called to greater things. He is called “the Lesser†only for the comparison of his power, for he was still ultimately a mostly mortal man, instead of a true Archangel like Saint Gabriel the Greater, his patron. It is said that centuries ago, Gabriel the Lesser was living a simple life, working to improve the life of his fellow brothers and sisters of humanity, when he was struck down in a terrible fight between roving criminal groups. Lying there in a side alley, overlooked by the frantic heroes working to quell the fight, his lifeblood flowed from his body. He cried, not because he feared death, but for the sadness it would bring his loved ones, and the missed chances to help more. He struggled out a simple prayer: “Lord, let me do more. Do not let me die this day with so much undone. Give me the chance and the means to help others.†And God answered!†The elderly preacher pointed his hand skyward, and the congregation clapped and cheered for several long moments. When they quieted, he continued. “God sent the Archangel Gabriel! One of the Three Princes of Heaven! Leader of the Hosts That Sing Praise! Gabriel appeared to this mortal man, and offered him a choice. He could stay as he was, and pass to his reward in Paradise. He would be with God, with the saints of old, and there would be no more pain! Or! He could stay, and be transformed by a fragment of the Archangel's power. He would know hardship, and mockery, and see many horrors that most mortals should praise God they never witness. For this humble servant of Christ, there was no choice at all. “I accept your offer, mighty Gabriel. Give me the power to protect the innocent and save the forgotten.†With that, the Archangel placed a hand upon the man's wound, and he was healed! Power surged through him, and when the light faded, he was alone in the alley, standing on two strong feet. And what a change he had undergone! He wore resplendent robes of white, which he somehow knew would protect him and resist damage and dirt alike. In his right hand, he had a shofar, made not of animal horn, but of brightest silver, shining with heavenly light! His head was hidden beneath a hood and a halo of light, so that all who looked upon him saw only an angel, not the man underneath. And upon his backs were wings as white as snow! More than all this, he now held within him part of the Song of Heaven! He knew some of the notes that had helped sing creation into existence! The Song that even know is sung before the very Throne of God! It was like a fire in his bones, one that would have made Jeremiah proud! He could not help but sing for joy and blow a note on that heavenly instrument!†By this point the congregation alternated between soft clapping, shouting “Amenâ€, and leaning forward in their seats to make sure they didn't miss a word. “So it was that his words were infused with the power of the angels, so that all mankind would stop and consider, and so that the wicked might know the fear of the Lord's Justice! With a gesture the servants of darkness were sent to their knees! With a shout, the dark towers of the Enemy were toppled! With a blast of his shofar, he struck down armies! With but a thought it would be a great and terrible spear, that instrument modeled after the Horn of Gabriel, to strike at the foulest of foes! He was a shining light on a hill! He was a watchful protector! He spoke for those who thought they had no voice in the world; he defended the rights of the defenseless! He fought criminals, alien invaders, dark armies, the walking dead, terrible sorcerers, and even demons from the pits of Hell, the soldiers of Lucifer the Fallen! Take heed, brothers and sisters; Gabriel the Lesser was not simply a hero against such enemies! He was an example for us all. He showed us that disagreement over our theology did not excuse us from the call to love everyone just as God did. He extended the hand of friendship to many. He championed the reformation of those who had previously committed crimes, for he knew we are all sinners before God! He strove to be a careful representative of the faith, never wavering in his beliefs, but always doing so with the utmost of love. For countless years he stood in the gap and fought for all mankind, no matter their beliefs. He stayed a beacon of the faith, a Saint in the truest sense of the word. He fought against the darkness large and small for all the rest of his days. It is lost to time what his life was fully like; all we know is that he finally gave his life against an invasion from Hell, against the armies of the Devil! He gave his life that others might live, and that Evil would be turned away! So it is that I challenge you. All of you, young and old, rich and poor, male and female, to be shining lights! We may not have the power of angles. But we have God's love. We have our own talents and resources. I implore you all, go out and do what you can. Change the world, even if it's for only one person!†There was another round of cheers, amens, and clapping, before the minister closed the meeting with a prayer and dismissed the congregation for the evening. They all filed out of the church, their spirits lifted, their minds whirling with possibilities. Individually, they were all simple men and women. But perhaps one day their efforts, put together, would change the world. One of the people leaving the service was a young teenage boy, perhaps 17 years old. He'd come into the church on a lark, and had nearly left in the first 5 minutes. But something about the sincerity of everyone there had captured his attention; then, as the story continued, he'd become fascinated with it. Now he walked along, kicking his feet at the dirt as he traveled back to his home, one even further to the outskirts of Freedom City. “Man, that would be kind of cool. Being able to make a difference on that scale. Sure the whole “make a difference where you are†thing is cool, but it'd be incredible to fight super-villains and save the day! But I'll never-oof!†He grunted as he tripped and nearly fell face-first onto the ground, only just managing to catch himself. He looked down to his feet... And saw what looked like a half-buried musical instrument. A strangely curved horn made of somewhat dulled and tarnished silver sat there in the dirt. The boy's eyes widened, and he reached down to grasp it... Sometimes, we're called to higher things in life.

Gabriel hadn't been singing the entire time they'd waited, but every so often he'd broken out a song to help keep himself occupied, and perhaps calm nerves throughout the house (it was trivial to sing loud enough that all could hear him). Of course, that wasn't to be. He heard the squabble outside and followed Freedom Angel and Gaian Knight at a slightly more sedate pace. When he saw what the commotion was, he stiffened for a moment, working to overcome his natural fear of stinging insects. He saw GK trying to placate them, and rose on a column of sound to hover near his fellow hero, holding his hands up in a peaceful stance as he spoke. "My friends, please! Why do you fight? Because some of you are metal, and others are chitin? Don't all of you have the capacity to think and feel? Neither of your groups is 'better', you're just different! Should not you who have been here already rejoice that your brothers in steel have been given their freedom! That they too can come to this place where they can fly free with no fear? Is that not already cause for celebration? And even more, our host, Fleur de Joie, is giving birth even now! A new life is coming into the world! That is cause for joy, not posturing! Who cares who told who, why are you not rejoicing on this happy day!" He flies higher, fighting the grimace that wants to sneak onto his face. 'I am insane, and everyone is going to owe me so much for this.' He waves at the bees, encouraging them to follow. "Come, sister bees! Insects of flesh and of steel! Come fly with me in celebration! Let us give this new child such a show when he enters the world! Let all who are near know our joy on this day! Let them rejoice with us! Fly with me!" And with that, he shot into the sky, using only a fraction of his speed, but nonetheless beginning an exaggerated set of aerial maneuvers. 'If this doesn't work, I'm giving all of these bees the worst headache in existence.'

Gabriel couldn't help but smile at Derrick's nervous energy. He quietly walked over to the counter to "place his order". "I'll have some Earl Grey. If you've got it. If not, I'll take what Heyzel's having." He sedately walked around the room a bit. But it wasn't long before he was humming softly to himself. That humming unconsciously built into singing, until finally the others in the living room area could hear his crystal-clear baritone voice. "Go forth to life, O child of earth! Still mindful of thy heav’nly birth; Thou art not here for ease, or sin, But manhood’s noble crown to win. Tho’ passion’s fires are in thy soul, Thy spirit can their flames control; Tho’ tempters strong beset thy way, Thy spirit is more strong than they."

Corbin had been in a near-daze most of the time they'd been walking into the building and traveling down. Nukes going off? Midnight and Sage dead? Him stopping a super-nuke and saving the whole state? He glanced down at his ring with more than a little amazement in his eyes. 'I did that? I...Wow. I guess I need to keep training hard. In case-' He clamps down on that thought with a frown. 'No. Too much focus on the "maybe", not enough on the "now". But, I have to know...' He looked over to Vril Knight, concern on his face. He spoke softly, though it was all but guaranteed everyone in the elevator heard him. "What about Ultiteen? Or probably Ultiwoman, by this point? What happened to Quo-Dis?" ******************** Cobalt Templar was, once again, not fast enough. Oh, he was quick on the draw, but he was still barely forming a construct to try and trap the villains when they were gone. "Γη επιστÏωμένος σκυλιά δειλός!" he shouted in their wake. He let the others work on tracing them, or explaining the very basics. He took a moment to close his eyes, take a few deep breaths, and center himself. He opened his eyes, his face implacable, and his eyes actually glowing with a faint blue light. He climbed into the elevator with the others, working to prevent them from being pushed around too much by his bulk. When the elevator started moving at high speed, he calmly manifested a soft field of energy to help cushion the lot of them, reducing bumps and bruises (not that they were huge concerns for this group, but it was a matter of principle). "Handy feature."

Gabriel calmly followed Gaian Knight through the portal, rolling his neck a bit. His mood seemed much better than what it had been in the prison pit. "Not like they won't scrub the place down anyways. We took care of the important part of the business." He twitched his head towards the bedroom. "Any idea how it's going yet?" He was clearly concerned for his friend, but the fact that Jill O'Cure was here meant it was fairly mild concern. After all, if someone could heal with but a touch, most birthing concerns were rather moot.

Gabriel smiled as Dark Star landed with a woman he guess might be Fleur's mother. Having her husband there would hopefully ease the stress of the day for the plant-controlling heroine. Alternatively, she'd focus all her frustrations on him, leaving the rest of them under much less risk. He hoped. He gestured for the others to go through first. "I'll help Gaian Knight smooth things over. Between the two of us, it'll be fine. Shouldn't take long." He was saying a silent prayer in his mind as he watched the other go through the rocky portal. 'God go with them, and let this be a healthy, joyous occasion. Let the birth be as easy as possible. Let mother and child be healthy at the end of it.'

Gabriel shakily nods at Heyzel's logic. "That works too. I just figured Jill could concentrate on something other than "don't let her fall off the bee", but that works too. I'm just trying to be helpful, instead of panicking. So. Yeah. Time to ride a bee..." He gave the robot bees a slightly nervous look; he didn't begrudge their existence, so much as he wished he didn't have to cross paths with bees, or bee-like creatures. Still, desperate times. He moved to hop onto one and help Freedom Angel up onto it. "Alright pal, let's get you up there. No need having you fall off and add a bump to the head to everything."

Corbin gave his future-daughter a smile as he pinned the beacon on (or rather, willed his armor to simply encase the beacon). "It's fine. We've been having a rough ride of it, so I can understand where you're coming from. I guess it's just different from the last time I saw you. Or another you." He shook his head with a hint of a grin on his face. "Moving across both time and dimensions makes my head hurt." He lapsed into silence as they entered Freedom Hall, his historian's mind taking in the general tone of the building. Mdinight seemed on the right track; it had all the hallmarks of a posthumous monument. But why were Edge and Wander not pictured? He tried not to contemplate the more obvious question of how some of these future heroes came about. Frankly, that way lay madness. "Midnight has handled the last two bombs just fine. I have faith he'll do just as well this time around." He frowned a bit. "You didn't run into any Terminus troops or anything, did you? We had some trouble on the last world..."