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Invasion! - Danger Mansion (IC)


Cyroa

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Stalking the halls of the mansion, Razorwing took a head count of able-bodied people, both costumed and civilian. The numbers were less than he was hoping for, but they'd need everyone that was willing to fight to do their part if they had any hope of beating back the demonic army. He spotted a group of police officers and emergency medical technicians in the parlor, huddled together, most likely formulating their own plans. Walking towards the group, hoping that his reputation as a violent vigilante would be overlooked in these times of tumult, he addressed them. "We're making our last stand out on the lawn," his spoke grimly. "We need everyone to do their part."

The men and women looked at the young hero, nodded and murmured their support. The people of Freedom City were haggard and frightened, but they were not beaten yet. "Also, has anyone seen Dr. Archeville?" he asked as he double-clicked his commlink once more.

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"Young Freedom," Phantom said, shoulders squared and her feet braced against the ground as she named off the youngest group of super heroes active in Freedom City currently. She lifted her chin a notch and coolly surveyed the group. If there was going to be an outcry, better now than when it really hit the fan. "They have the best shot of closing that gate down."

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As a man keenly aware of appearances, Jack quickly acted to change the subject. "Hey, everybody!" When Jack shouted, the air popped, the sheer force of personality that he kept bottled up around humans when he wasn't wearing the mask suddenly boiling out. "My name is Jack. Some of you know me as Avenger. This is my city! If you want to join me in keeping it free of demons and other unsavory elements, listen up!" Drawing on his combat experience from the Knights, as well as his fairly extensive experience in ripping dangerous supernatural entities apart to bear, Jack began issuing orders. If people didn't listen, well...he couldn't exactly make them do it. But he had to do something, and if it kept them from hassling Phantom, more power to them.

"Flying people, I want you in the air! Hit anybody who breaks through that line of trees Fleur de Joie gave us; don't give them time to form up for a charge! Anyone with any kind of reach, get behind the front line and reach past their heads. You're our spearmen in this. Atlas, get yourself a bat. I think Fleur de Joie's kindly provided us with a few hundred. Marksmen; stealthy types, kill their commanders. If you've got something that can hit a large area, put yourself in the front line: same if you're a hand-to-hand fighter. I want them running on the backs of their own dead by the second wave. And beyond all that..." He trailed off for a moment, then shouted, "This is FREEDOM CITY! This is the Centurion's city! This is August Roman's city! We can beat anybody, anytime, anywhere if we work together. Let's show them how heroes fight!"

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Fulcrum sighed and slid a hand down her face. She stared scowling at the ground for a few moments, eyes flicking about intensely as she listened to Avenger. The fellow did have a tremendous charisma despite his appearance. From her body language, he had affected her thinking on what bothered her. Particularly the mention of Centurion, which had caused her to tense up.

When she looked back up, a neutral expression crossed her face and the stress eased. Several deliberate strides brought her up to Phantom. Knowing time was of the essence, Fulcrum gazed down at her for but a moment before kneeling down to eye level. She offered a handshake to the mystical hero.

"You believe in them, and I believe in you. Let's buy them as much time as we can," she spoke, nodding, "My name is Fulcrum. Pleasure to meet you."

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A small flying creature, apparently some sort of frightened bird, was making a beeline for the barrier surrounding Danger Mansion; for some reason, it was being followed by a pack of demons, most of them bearing vicious bloody claw marks across their faces and chests. With a final burst of speed, the creature zipped through the golden wall, leaving the denizens of Hell howling on the outside. Once safely inside, the bird zoomed this way and that, apparently confused; suddenly it stopped in mid-air and then balloned into the form a battered and bruised long woman, wearing a black and midnight blue costume, who abruptly fell to the lawn with a resounding thud.

"Ohhhhh God...this flying thing is a lot harder than I remembered."

After lying on the cool grass for a few moments, Grimalkin staggered to her feet unsteadily; even though her costume seemed intact, her stiff movements suggested a lot of damage hidden beneath the surface. Dried blood was caked around one nostril, and there were burst capillaries in her eyes. Peering around, she saw a number of familiar faces, all of which showed signs of the ongoing struggle; she spotted Taylor and Jack, and wobbled over in their direction.

"Hey guys. Sorry I'm so late for the party; I had lousy directions."

About ten feet away for her former teamates, she stopped and sniffed the air.

"I smell cowboy."

Then Grim dropped to her knees, staring blankly into space as the shock of the day hit her all at once.

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All-Star descended slowly from the skies. No one was sure how many times he had come and gone. He had arrived at Danger Mansion several hours ago bearing a large group of huddled civilians then without speaking a word had flown back into what was once Freedom. Always he carried more survivors. Always he carried fresh wounds.

Now he flew across the border carrying the shovel from a large Bulldozer. He lowered the shovel to the ground. Several panicked men and women spilled out. Claws had rent the majority of his costume. His cape was a blue rag that flapped around his neck. The flesh around his eyes was bright red and inflamed; too much of his own energy vision. Black ichor had congealed on the split knuckles of his large fists. Gone was the bold challenging look in his eyes. Anger now only smoldered beneath the ashes of horror.

His behavior could easily have been written off as more of the same. His usual stubbornness. Maybe that was right. For All-Star his powers had been the greatest gift he had. Hands that could crush coals into diamonds, blasts of power that could reduce a building to a smoking ruin. He had never thought of the other side. Ears that could hear two dust motes collide, couldn't help but hear a father and daughter trapped beneath the rubble of their house. A body that could move at the speed of thought, could easily take him to man hiding in his office while demons prowled the halls, if that is all he could think of. Today he had heard more last breaths, more cries for help than even his body could take him to in time. Today his gifts weighed down on him like a curse. Today his hands had found a foe they could not crush, and one he had no hope of outrunning. Helplessness. And now he heard nothing. Only the perverted lusting of demonic snouts, and the crackle of a world set on fire.

It took him a moment to see the gathering on the grounds. When he spoke his voice sounded strange to him. "Whats going on?".

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Dark Star nodded. "Their fliers are not that agile. I'll knock any of them out of the air and turn to ground support when I can. If a section or group is being overrun, someone grab my attention if I miss it. I'll clear their area for a few moments. Other than that, my main focus will be on those tougher demons with powers. I suggest letting our toughest and most durable go right in front. If you have any kind of area destruction abilities, that would be a good place for you as well. Especially if you can't keep from hitting a teammate. Those who aren't as durable, take the flanks or third line perhaps. There will be so many, the creatures will wash over and past. The fallback is the mansion itself. If we're forced to the doors, Fluer and Phantom should pull back and take in everyone not fighting as well as the injured." He believed they would be victorious at the end. That they wold prevail. But that didn't mean it wouldn't get a little worse before then. There were too many civilians to not plan for that event. "If we have healers, keep then in the second group assuming they aren't fighting. Whatever weapons and defenses Ace and the good Doctor can arrange for the civilians, it'll give them a fighting chance and core location to work from. We'll prevail; we just need to hold out a little longer."

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"Reckon I need ta find a priest'er somethin' what c'n bless these bullets'a mine..." Colt had been talking shop so to speak with the other gathered heroes about what he had to offer to the fight when Grim finally made her appearance.

"Hey guys. Sorry I'm so late for the party; I had lousy directions."

About ten feet away for her former teamates, she stopped and sniffed the air.

Colt smiled when he saw her, fully relieved that she was okay "Hold that thought," He said to the group as he broke off and began walking towards her, slowly so she would see him.

"I smell cowboy."

Then Grim dropped to her knees, staring blankly into space as the shock of the day hit her all at once.

"Grim!" Colt blanched. He had been managing to hold his composure together so far, but seeing her in trouble brought the pressure of the day crashing down on him all at once. He dashed towards her and slid through the last few feet of grass on his knees when he reached her. The color gone from his weathered face and the strain of the day suddenly made him look much older than his 22 years should have. "Yer okay, right?" He asked, holding her at arms length, "Tell me yer okay!"

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The heroes stood around the once finely landscaped lawn. It was still mostly nice too, though the sheer amount of traffic certainly made a few marks. A massive ring of trees, looking like overblown Sequoya tree had mostly encircled property as the plant controller slowly blockaded the place. It wouldn’t keep out the fliers, and would likely only slow the demons until they hacked the trees down, but it would buy them some time.

As the heroes gathered, several dozen citizens came out of the house. Men and women that, while scared and exhausted, were not willing to let the heroes fight the hordes alone. Equipped with a truly wide variety of weapons and devices from Ace’s accumulated adventured and whatever devices the resident genius cobbled together, they were a sorry sight to behold. But they had fire and determination in their hearts. They had friends and family inside to protect. This was their city and they weren’t going to go quietly.

The ‘tree-wall’ had only the front area by the gate left to do. But as Fluer started to work on the last 30 yards or so, the golden-white light of the barrier flickered. It actually winked out for a second before returning, the light a faint glow compared to before. It was obvious the ward was coming down, and it was coming down now…

The light of the wards finally died for good and many things happened all at once. The wave of fear and terror that they had been shielded from, the same that they had felt before out in the ‘city’, came rushing back and crashed over everyone ten times stronger than ever before…

On the heels of that fear came the demons. A veritable cornucopia of hell’s denizens. Horrors of every possible descriptor, thing no human had ever seen or would wish to see, pour through that small opening. The roar of hunger and anger was almost a physical force as their screams reverberated amongst the limitless hordes. And it truly was a horde without limits. Those flying above could see that the numbers of demons stretched on and on and on…in fact there no longer seemed to be a city out there. Just the ruined landscape of Hell on Earth.

And this horde charge forward with one purpose. With one target. To crush and destroy this last bastion and hope of humanity. And the Heroes of Freedom City moved to greet them…

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Ace had known the blessed barrier wouldn't last forever and had been prepareing for its fall since the first survivors straggled into the small bastion. He had seen those able to fight were armed as best he could and organized them into a ragtag line backing up the costumed heroes.

As the ward flickerd and began to fade Ace smiled a somewhat mad grin. After all he was no stranger to apocalypse. 'Inumerable demon army spouted forth from the very maw of hell? No Problem' he thought as he almost joyfully jumped atop part of a makeshift barricade. Here with impossible odds and no hope Ace was in his element.

He addressed the last of freedoms defenders eyes shining with zeal, "This is Freedom City!" he intoned pouring every ounce of his potent personality into his words he bolsterd the defenders will to fight, "We have faced the onslaught of Nazi super soldiers, mad men bent on world domination, unspeakable cults, the armies of hades himself and not faltered. We faced down Omega and pushed him back to his fell abode. We will show these demons why Freedom has never fallen. Each one of you today is part of history. Today we show the legions of hell that when things are darkest our will is strongest. Now is the time for each and everyone of you to fight for your City and for your world. Lets show these demonic bastards what the people of Freedom can do. FOR FREEDOM!"

Ace lept towards the oncoming horde calling out directions here and there as he led his small force to meet the enemy. Many may fall but it woudl not be for naught, the demons would pay dearly for what they had done to his city. He fell among the demons weavign out of the way of horrid claws and gouts of hellspawned flame. His strikes carefull and sure almost surgical. He drove his antique blade into nobby demon flesh where it woudl do the most damage as the demon hoard pressed on against the tiny group of defenders.

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Ace's words rang in his ears as the group of defenders ran to meet the demons. But it did little to assuage the fears nestled deep inside Colt's heart.

Colt set himself behind the barrier on one knee. Both Jericho and Marlin were fully loaded and ready for combat. Jericho hung in the holster at his hip, and Marlin rested, cradled in his arms. He set the barrel of the rifle on the makeshift barrier to steady his aim, and made ready for the inevitable wave of horrors.

For a few seconds after Ace Danger's speech ended, Colt heard nothing but silence. He was dimly aware of others around him talking and making noise, though he found he couldn't process anything other than his own fears which were rapidly growing inside of him.

When the barrier ripped loose and the demons charged through, Colt began firing. His hands moved as fast as lightning, taking aim, firing, reloading, and cocking the rifle. He could repeat the rote motions all day long if he needed to, as long as none of the demons got past his line of fire that is...

His shots did much to support the group of fighters that Ace Danger had led out onto the front lines. Whenever there was a demon about to deliver a blow to the back of one of Freedom City's bravest citizens, it quickly found a bullet in the side of it's head.

But there were simply too many of them. Soon enough, Colt found that even with his rapid firing skills, he could not fire fast enough to stem the flow of demons coming through the barrier which was now hemorrhaging like a lost limb. One by one, the demons began to make it past his line of fire, and it was then that the fear truly hit him.

Colt went white. In the middle of reloading his rifle, he mis-loaded it and the shell dropped to the ground. The hiccup threw him off, and more demons began rushing the barricade. Colt continued reloading as he rose from one knee. He began firing as fast as possible as he backed up away from the barrier.

"Too many!" *Blam* "We ain't winnin' this fight!" *Chk-click* "There ain't no way. There's just too many!" *Blam*

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Phantom's throat closed up and she settled for giving Fulcrum a small nod a shaky smile as those used to mobilizing people set to work. As Avenger had begun to shout out orders, picked up by Ace, Phantom was examing the glimmering ward. Even as she approached it, she knew they were out of time. It would have taken minutes, if not hours, to rework the holy sigils and it was simply time they didn't have. The ward flickered under her gloved fingertips and without waiting for it's determined resurgance, Phantom teleported back to Jack's side.

"I'm going out into the middle. Tell Dark Star to center his attacks around me. The best I can do now is neutralize their abilities while someone pounds on them." Phantom spoke quickly, but her voice was steady. This was what she'd trained for, and that training blunted fear and focused adrenaline into something she could harness and use. She caught the sides of his face up in between the soft leather of her gloves and pressed a bittersweet kiss against his lips. "I love you, hero."

Phantom blinked away from the front lines and out into the first crush of the horde. Spreading her hands wide, she focused. Black energy formed in her hands and expanded outward with a soft whump, stealing magical powers from the demons within the radius of its fell light. It was fitting, Phantom thought in the small portion of her brain that was cool and remote, that she be out here to make a last stand. This was her responsibility, and she would be no place else but in the very teeth of hell.

I hope you choke on me.

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Fleur kept working on the line of trees until the last possible moment, her heart in her throat as she watched the white light flicker and fade. Twelve seconds a tree wasn't so much, really, but it seemed like an eternity now. So close, so close... Brambles and vines intertwined and wove themselves through the trunks of trees while she worked, hastily extending the barrier that, for all it was wider than a man laying down, seemed so flimsy against the horde. Before she could finish, though, the white light sputtered and died, and with a scream of triumph, the demons poured through that last fifteen-foot gap. Instinctively, Stesha teleported away, putting her back up against the house and going to work from there.

This wasn't the sort of fight she'd ever expected to find herself in. It certainly wasn't a fight where she seemed likely to do much good. But there were people out there with no powers at all, willing to fight and die to protect the city. How could she do less? She activated the defenses she'd sown earlier, doing what she could to create confusion, at least. The topiaries around the property suddenly bloomed with big red flower mouths, eating and swallowing the demons that came too close, their stamens moving like hungry tongues. The vines in the barricades bloomed with pollen-filled yellow flowers, knocking some of the small demons unconscious as they tried to hack their way through. It wasn't much, but each demon she took out of the fight was one less for someone else to handle. It had to help somehow...

When Phantom teleported into the midst of the fight, Stesha turned her attention fully in that direction, snaring and pocketing all the demons she could. Her head began to pound with the hours of continuous effort, but if now wasn't the time to use everything she had, when was?

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Jack kissed Taylor back, watching as she disappeared into the thick of the fighting. "I love you too, Taylor," he murmured softly. And with that he was a monster again, an easy, terrible transformation that he'd tried so hard to avoid for so long. A vampire is ultimately a predator, a killing machine that gains power from the blood of others. And so Jack was in that last terrible fight, falling among the demons like a hyena among lions, ripping and tearing at their vulnerable parts, pulling them down and ripping open their throats, hissing madly as he drank their foul blood, his sheer presence startling enough to focus the horde around him on the invisible predator that gave bad deaths to all their number without so much as showing himself for a fight. This was a battle for survival. For _all_ of them.

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Fulcrum knew the time had come without even looking at the barrier. The flicker of light alerted her, but the look on Phantom's face told her everything she needed to know. As the others readied themselves, Fulcrum stood up full and straight and turned to face the horde. Calmly she replaced her gloves and flexed her sore hands. Vaguely she heard the others, particularly Ace, rallying the troops and she felt somehow lightened. She wasn't good with words. She would lead by example.

The barrier came down and her heart skipped a beat. The wave of supernatural horror washed over her. She stared ahead unflinchingly, fists at her side and cape waving. All the trauma of the day flashed before her eyes. The screams of the dying and the howls of the monsters. Sinister red eyes mocking her. The longest moments lingered on her family and friends, all missing or dead in this place of ruin. No way out. Nothing holding her back.

She finally gave light to a recessed part of her personality that she worked hard to master. The part of her psyche that not only enjoyed fighting but reveled in the sheer carnage and destruction. The side she likened to Omega. A relentless ambition for victory or death. All that fear and horror and terror she had numbed herself toward was transferred into pure will. If the end of the world was nigh, she was going to fight the long defeat her way.

Her expression set in iron, Fulcrum took off at an angle and slowly gained speed as she ascended. As the infinite hordes lay stretched before her, she spoke softly, "So this is how he felt."

Black dust specks coalesced into flying monstrosities. She leveled off, accelerated and slammed into the first wave, disappearing into the sheer numbers. Alone there in the dark, she drew them to her and crushed bone, dismembered limbs and tore flesh with her bare hands. Mauled corpses rained out of the sky like black snowflakes.

Dark Star said the toughest should go up front. Sounded like a good idea.

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Samael wasn't so hot with the words. There were others far better at it than he was, so it would be rude of him to interrupt. When the fear washed over him, it felt like a shot to the gut. It was that same feeling when you lose all feeling in your limbs and you can't even muster any strength. It made you feel helpless. But sometimes, when the abyss roars at you, you just have to roar back. That, Atlas could do.

I don't know if you've ever seen a BIG RED MAN rip a 200ft tree out of the ground and proceed to use it like a giant base ball bat on the endless Horde, but it's really a thing of beauty. Atlas' method of fighting was basically causing as much chaos in as wide a swath as possible. As you watched him work, you got a weird feeling that this is exactly what Atlas was designed for. His "bat" was destroyed after 2 or 3 swings at which point became a javelin. After which point Atlas contented himself with weilding some of the smaller demons like fleshy boxing gloves before they poofed out of existence or were reduced to a fine paste. He immediately leapt at any large demons that made their presence known, and then used them like a club. But there were too many, this couldn't last.

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"Yer okay, right?" He asked, holding her at arms length, "Tell me yer okay!"

Grim shook her head to clear out the cotton balls, and then her eyes focused on the ruggedly handsome face of Colt.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay; I mean, it's obviously the worst day of my life, but at least I'm not alone, right?"

But then the smile left her eyes as she watched the barrier go down, and she felt a cold fist of fear wrap itself around her heart. The black cloud of demons began pouring through the trees, and she heard Ace's voice ringing over the field of battle.

I don't want to die to today, not now; it's too soon. We just met, it's not fair...

But her opinions didn't matter anymore, because the only thing that mattered now was survival.

"Freedom cannot die."

Did she just say something? Nevermind. No time, no time. As she rose to her feet, she gave Colt a quick peck on the cheek, an obscenely brief moment for the man she loved; if somehow they both lived to see tomorrow morning, there would be time for so much more.

Without even realizing it, she found herself running, legs pumping furiously as she blurred her way towards the front line, her heart pounding impossibly fast as she leapt head first into the fray.

Ever since the morning she'd woken up in a dark alley some three years ago, alone and afraid and confused, she'd doubted herself, doubted her abilities, her motives, sometimes even her sanity. But now for the first time since she'd be transformed, there was no doubt, because there was just no time for it. She leapt, she danced, she twisted, feet and claws and even teeth tearing into an endless stream of enemies, like a screaming wall of flesh. If it was soft, her talons found it and ripped it out, over and over again, until the steaming blood ran up her arms all the way to her shoulders.

Yep, this is how we do it in Freedom. :twisted:

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Geckoman stood trembling as they waited for Armageddon to come and kill them. His friends had to still be out there... otherwise what was the point? "Dammit, Mark," he mumbled to himself, "Do your damn job and save us all..."

As the horde burst in, his nerve nearly broke and he started firing his zappers wildly as the demons rushed at him, the wild shots hitting simply due to lots of targets, not any accuracy on his part. He saw Arrowhawk firing the last of his quiver, shots taking down the leaders before he grabbed for an arrow that wasn't there. The last Geckoman saw, the archer had drawn two battered antique sabers and whirled into the melee screaming in incoherent rage.

Geckoman kept firing and backing off until he managed to realise there was nowhere to back to. Throwing a smokebomb before him, he lunged with his strike knuckles into the smog, electrically augmented blows throwing demons around even as they crowded about, enhanced reflexes only barely saving him from death at their claws.

"MARK!" His fist cracked a demon's skull even as its claws tore the G off his costume and left a thin red line across his chest. "ERIN!" A kick tossed him rolling across the ground, leaving him to frantically dodge stomping hooves and raking hellforged axes. "Eddie... Mike... guys..." He headbutted a charging monster, cracking his goggles. "HURRY UP AND STOP THEM!!!!"

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Dark Star rose above the battle, fly only a few dozen feet above the carnage, settling in relatively close to Phantom's position. He never wavered, never doubted they would be victorious. But that didn't mean he wasn't worried for the heroes and the civilians fighting below. The cost for this would be high. He just had to hope and pray that it wouldn't be too high and that the cost would be worth it.

He saved his graviton blasts for the larger demons, those throwing energies of their own. He held nothing back, unleashing everything he had into those blasts. Even if it didn't kill them, it certainly sent them far from the battle field. But mostly, he concentrated on flinging large groups of demons into the 'sky' and then launching the odd blast here and there. He doubted the sudden fall afterwards was going to kill the demons instantly. But that wasn't the point. There were simply too many demons. The creatures were just overrunning people, burying them in enemies. He focused most of his energies on sending hundreds and hundreds of demons that were bearing down or already overruning his allies high into the sky. The fall wouldn't kill those things outright. But it gave the heroes, powered and civilian alike, some breathing room. Time to keep fighting. But despite his power, he couldn't get to everyone...

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He had exited the mansion as soon as the golden barrier fell, a wave of helplessness, dread, and loathing washing over the heroes that stood valiantly against the onslaught. He saw the powerhouses take the fight to the front lines, his teammate Colt unloading round after round into the rushing horde, a giant red man battering and skewering demons wholesale, and for the first time in a long time, he felt as if there was nothing he could do to help. He was a competent fighter and tactician, but when it came to exchanging blows with the forces of Hell, he found earlier today he was lacking. Hesitating for a moment, he took a deep breath to steady his nerves and let his mind formulate a plan of action. Maybe he couldn't stand toe-to-toe with the enemy, but he could harry them, unbalance them, make them easier pickings for his comrades in arms. Charging into a small pocket of demons, Razorwing used his stealth and agility to duck, weave, and tumble between furious claws and gnashing teeth, blindsiding the infernal host, distracting them to the best of his ability in hopes that he could lower their defenses and give a more powerful hero a shot at taking them down.

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Roaring, All-Star light the darkness with a flash of scarlet as the air before him ignited with the heat of his energy blasts. The powerful blasts gouged a wide swath in the wall of oncoming demons. He rocketed into the tide of horns, and talons. The impact rattled the teeth of on lookers. AS quickly as he had struck a wave of demonic flesh swallowed him up.. The writhing, seething horde scrambled over their peers to get to the Mansion. Then there was a flash as scarlet energy once gain seared demonic skin. The young hero broke loose. He swung fists faster than the human eye could hope to follow connecting again and again. Where he connected bodies shattered, like rotten wood. When his arms squeezed, inhuman shrieks of pain followed. Where he glanced unholy warriors were cut down in cascade of brilliant energies. And when a demonic limb came too near his face, he bit down with murderous fury, even as he sought to tear the limbs owner apart with his bear hands. He was mindless destruction; anger's pure form. He battled with the relish only someone who had surrendered the possibility of victory could know.

And he was right. For every demon he felled. Six more took it's place. Ebon claws, found his flesh again and again. Leaving jagged furrows in a body he had once thought invisible. Stronger foes moved to engage him as the chaff tired to give him a wide berth. His strength was now tested. And it failed. He had made the mistake of thinking about his situation for a brief moment. The hopelessness swallowed him, and another pile of demonic bodies bore down on him. Is this all I can do?

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That day, on the side of the hill at the Danger Mansion, there were heroes big and small. Whether they took out dozens of demons singlehandedly in a flash or distracted a demon or two to let a single soul get back on their feet and preventing them from being dragged down, everywhere you looked you could see the courage and heroics of Freedom City’s people.

But you could also see an endless stretch of demons as well. And those actions, while stirring, were just not enough to save everyone. There were snippets of the fight, just glances people saw as they fought to survive. Doctor Archeville being dragged down and buried even as he struggled with one last invention. Tarantula, bounding and leaping and throwing her webs everywhere blasted by waves of fire, falling to the ground and lost. Tempest, despite his control over the elements, was dragged down by twin demons of terrifying demeanor. Ionica swatted out of the sky to crater into the ground unmoving. Quark and River Rat, buried and gone from sight in the blink of an eye. Dead Head, still swinging his shovel, was crushed by massive demon simply falling on him. Angel, blasted from her flying board to fall into the horde, lost in a moment.

But not all the heroes fell in the onslaught. Many managed to keep fighting. Force back and back until they were against the sealed manor. Backs to the home that contained the weak and defenseless, there was no where left to fall back to anymore.

At the core was Ace’s group of ‘refugees’, still fighting. Less than a third of their number, they still fought gamely on, following the immortal hero despite their fear. Around them, the other heroes made their stands, batting away demons that tried to get past them, protecting their charges to their last ‘breath’. There was no longer room or even energy for quick dodges. People were shoulder to shoulder, wielding whatever weapons they could get their hands on. In Atlas’ case, that just happened to be more demons; he had a plentiful supply. Fulcrum, the recently return student, punched demons with abandon, loosing track of who she was, just to keep fighting and protecting her home. Nearby All-Star used everything at his disposal to fight the hordes from his energy beams, to super strength, even his teeth when required. Whatever let him take down just one more demon.

Despite whatever issues they had with one another, people fought as one. Ace and Avenger, never the most cordial to one another, stood shoulder to shoulder, killing anything that came close in a vain attempt to stop the horde. Grimalkin’s shape changed and flowed as her claws flashed, whatever helped her move and fit the gaps where she was needed. Geckoman, his battered ‘G’ still visible despite the multitude of rents in his costume, punching and blasting away just wouldn’t go down. Despite his fears and the numerous wounds, the demons piled on and forward but never managed to drag him all the way down before his regenerative body got him back into the fight.

Those with ranged weapons, like Colt, stood on make shift barricades, shooting over their companions shoulders. Even though the fear gripped their hearts, the shots flew true, dropping demon after demon. Of course, given the sheer number of targets, almost any shot was bound to hit one of the hellspawn. Or Fluer, her belief at not being up for such titanic battles such as this, stood shoulder to shoulder with others, using her power to capture demon after demon that was too slow to avoid the gasping plants.

One didn’t have to stand on the front row to fight demons; nor was even the ‘second line’ safe from demons attacks. The sheer number of demons would spill or leap over those lines. Someone had to fight those that got through. Arrowhawk was there, bow and arrows long gone. Instead twin sabers flashed, cutting down any demon that sought to get into the house or attack someone’s back. Razorwing was right there with him, saving people who never even knew he was there. Utility belt long since exhausted, the vigilante used whatever was at hand, from blaster to sword to clubs. Whatever got the job done.

Floating above the small not of defenders, Phantom struggled to block the demonic power. Licks of flames, mental control, rivers of acid, and every other hellish power would likely have destroyed the defenders, crushed them so the hordes could roll over the good people without challenge. Whether people knew it or not, she was giving them their chance to actually fight those hordes. Beside her, Dark Star kept the people from literally being buried by the demonic armada. Sending demons flying upwards and away when they came to close to overrunning the ‘lines’ when needed, he unleashed his graviton blasts at targets pointed out by Phantom as needing immediate removal.

It was an mishmash of heroes and civilians, a last stand. But they fought as one. Professional hero or regular citizen, today, they were all true heroes. Despite the wounds inflicted on them and impossibility of their situation, they fought on. What else could they do?

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The heroes were falling back, forced back by hordes of demons. Geckoman punched and shot as the semi-circle formed, and then it happened. He saw Quark go down under the tide of demons. Time seemed to slow, and Chris just stood there, helpless against the sheer weight of numbers. He'd never get there in time. He could hear himself shouting as if from outside his own body...

... then four demons crashed into him at once in a snarl of teeth and claws. They were small, vicious things, like red scaly dogs. They were on top of him, tearing his flesh and gnawing at limbs. Geckoman swung and struggled against one even as the others worked at maiming him. In a sudden surge of fury, he managed to headbutt one onto its back while springing up atop the mass of demons assailing him. "C'mon, you want this city, you gotta go through me!" he jeered, swinging to deliver a hammer blow to one of the dog-demons pouncing at his head. "You kiss your mother with those fangs? Bet she had to throw up afterwards." He rolled to avoid another attack, sending two crashing into one another. "Too slow, too stupid, just too rubbish. Grade F, maybe D for effort." A demon fell to the floor as a green boot swept its feet from under it. "Demon horde! Stop trying to hit me and hit me! So speaks Lawrence Fis-" A slash tore his skin off his ribs. "Ok, ok, Neo, less of that!" He mustered the effort to blast the demon in the leering, gnashing face. "COME ON!"

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It hadn't taken long for Stesha to stop worrying about the idea of being in her first really big fight. That had been wiped away by sheer, numbing fear as the first waves of demons had swept down on them. She could see Dark Star out of the corner of her eye, fighting next to her, and there was Phantom over there, and Ace, and the others, so few others, all of them surrounded. There was nothing to do but fight, so she fought, until even the fear was replaced by a hollow sort of dread. They were never going to get out of this. No one was coming to save them, and her family wouldn't even know what had happened to her. Why hadn't she told them? It seemed so stupid now.

The nets of vines and brambles she put up didn't hold the demons back for long, and soon the enemy was upon her and the others, clawing, ripping, and tearing. Stesha used every self-defense technique she'd ever been taught to try and fight them off, even as her flowers valiantly tried to help, but it was like trying to swim out of a riptide. She knew she was bleeding, but couldn't even pinpoint from where, knew she was dizzy, but couldn't think of the word concussion. Her fights with the Beekeeper suddenly seemed very far away. Irrelevantly, she wondered where he was now. Had the villains tried to fight as well, or had they run away, or been overrun?

A momentary break in the fighting left her doubled over with exhaustion and nausea, trying to work up the strength to do anything, even teleport away. She dimly though of the civilians behind her, of the children on the upstairs floors, but couldn't quite decide what to do about that. Stay, go, did it make any difference anymore? Where would they go?

Stesha never even saw the scaly hands that reached out for her, snatching her by an arm and a leg and jerking her back into the masses of demons. "Derrick!" she screamed, reaching out instinctively for his arm. Her hand passed through the darkness of his body, and in an instant she was gone, lost in the tide.

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When the demons came, Jack fell among them like a fiend, ripping and tearing and being torn himself. There was nothing human in how he fought here at the end, and the monsters ripping at each other were almost indistinguishable from each other. His world was a red haze of blood and death, the screaming in his ears both his own and from a thousand other lips. At the end of things you find out exactly what you are; and at the end of things, Jack was a vampire. A monster. But he was one fighting to protect the innocent, battling alongside those he loved for the sake of those who needed him. So he fought onward as flesh tore and bones broke; his face a mask of pain, his lips ripped away to reveal hideous fangs dripping with the blood of the damned. A demon's banner struck him through the chest, and he staggered...

Suddenly, from out of the depths of Hell, a terrible familiar face came pouring out of the horde. Melinda was all fangs and claws now, her face and skin a demon's red, her eyes glittering with malevolent hate. "Well well well, Jack," she said, a laugh in an inhuman voice that pulled at the very edges of reality, "now we see what your humanity gets you. Dying in the dirt while the real monsters rip away the old world and bring out something new and beautiful." She bent close to him and whispered seductively, "It's not too late, you know. The master doesn't punish those who did his work on Earth. And you know you've done his work, Jack. Come back with me and join the winning team. Be at my right hand. You can even bring your little blood-whore, after you make a few changes to her..."

Jack spat up demon blood, the foul fluid sizzling on the grass below. "Don't...don't call her that," he growled. "And my name is...AVENGER!" And with that he spat a terrible curse and leaped at Melinda, his fangs digging into her neck as he tore out her throat in a wild cascade of infernal horror!

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