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Between Walls of Steel

#1
The Imperial prison, a home for Coruscant’s lowliest of low life. A festering pool of the fearful and evil, a holding place for criminals and worse the Avengers were in it, and for God knows how long. The Team was pushed into single file line, having to march through the dim light narrow corridors of the prison. Graffiti littered the metal and concrete walls and prisoners held in their cells only by an orange ray shield shouted and raved like madmen.        

"Alright! Move it, move it! Get your ugly masked asses on that gravity lift, don't make any sudden moves unless you enjoy getting your guts stomped in,"  a grizzled, rough looking Imperial officer with scars patterning his shouted behind the team. The Imp officer kept them moving, keeping each member moving, minus the unconscious Centurion who was being dragged across the metal plated floor by two stormtroopers.

"Hey! Get back here with my stuff! How am I to blame for anything, I was fucking unconscious!" Angel complained Dick pushing her to keep moving. 

"Quiet up there!"

“You better be right about this Marc. I don’t want to spend another lifetime in jail.” Marcus said slightly turning his head toward Spector, his eyes narrowing and voice only wavering only a bit. 

“And neither do I.” Marc shot back, sighing. “I’m sure Jarvis will pull in.” 

“You’re crazy.” Angel chimed in. 

“I’ve been told.”

“How do you know Jarvis has us covered? he could have bailed on us, Ratione what do you think?” Angel said sneering at a passing trooper. 

“I agree with Moon Knight.”

“Of course you do!” Angel said rolling her eyes. 

Member by member the entire team was shoved into the gravity lift. Stormtroopers piled in as well, surrounding them at every corner of the lift. Their guns pointed at each member as if they were going to do something. With a Jolt, the lift came alive bringing them upward until they entered a dome-shaped building with prison cells patterning every inch of wall.  

“Prisoner D667B AKA the Moon Knight you and Prisoner D773F currently unconscious are the first to be dropped off.” The Imp officer said pointing at an empty cell as he piloted the lift. 

With a giant mechanical click the lift connected with the prison cell. The orange ray shield instantly shut off. The two troopers carrying Cade quickly rushed into the cell, throwing the kid on an empty bed connected to the concrete wall.  

“Alright your turn moon man!” A trooper shouted, punching Marc in the back of the head before being shoved into the cell causing him to collapse hard onto the floor. 

“Welcome to Hell inmate.” The officer said disconnecting the lift from the cell and directing the lift off to another cell. 

Sighing, Marc picked himself up and stepped away from his Cell’s ray shield. Making his way to his own bed he shifted to his back and laid down folding his arms behind his head.

“Khonshu are you there?” 

Of course my son.

“Do you think Jarvis will come back for us?” 

I do not know my son, you mortals are so very unpredictable. He could just leave you and the others. Sell the Quinjet and make off doing something else. 

“I doubt he’d ever do something like that.” 

Who knows Marc, who knows? I have to say, we’re not doing so bad as Captain America’s replacement. You know that leadership stuff is all me right? 

“To be honest Khonshu, it disturbs me that Cap could change like he did, and it’s even worse now that Hydra is here in the Omniverse. I know one thing though, when I get my hands on Baron Zemo, he will pay.” 

Oh, of course, Marc my son. I want you to make him scream. Make him suffer for the pain he’s brought to those who are under our watchful eyes. We will bath in the blood of Hydra! Zemo’s face will be nothing but a sacrifice to me! 

“No.” 

You cannot refuse your destiny, you will not deny your god. Is this how you repay me for the great gift I have given you? My son, I have given you life again, the ability of a second chance. WHY! You are a mere child, thrown into things he cannot comprehend. Your mind has always been fractured and you are lucky that I even made you my avatar! Is this truly what I deserve for saving you? 

“No…”

Then why will you not do what I ask? 

“Because is this killing needed?!? Does it truly bring justice to the world? All I’ve ever wanted was to redeem myself from the sins I committed in the past and what you ask me is close to what I was before I took your mantel.”

Marc, you are doing what’s right. Sometimes an evil must be made to do what’s right. You are my blade of vengeance, a force merely here to bring forth a balance in this world. Now silence, the boy rises from his slumber, such as the Nile will rise from its shores.

 Quickly, jumped off of his bed rushing to the kid as he got up. 

“Stay still, kid,” Spector said holding Cade’s shoulders keeping him in place. 

“Where... where am I.” 

“An Imperial prison and I am... Sorry for what I- the team did to you. It was all a misunderstanding. The Empire wanted the Avengers in handcuffs.”
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#2
The line seemed to split from one spread out line where Moon Knight and the unconscious stranger was thrown in with each other. The terminator’s trip and his reluctant girlfriend’s trip would surely be pleasant the way things were going.

“Prisoner D324, Marcus Wright and Prisoner D224 Blair Williams are assigned a cell together”. Enjoy your time here, scumbags.”

Blair was grabbed by her hair and pushed in. “Hey lady, good luck with the guys. You’ll need it.”

Marcus growled “Let go of her, right now.” His growling was one warning.

Blair gritted her teeth as she pulled her own hair out of the stormtrooper’s grasp and almost was about to kick a stormtrooper when the orange blocker went up preventing the two’s escape from their cell.

Marcus sat on the lower bunker’s seat his face filled with aggravation, a hand on his face “Fuck! I feel like I’m back in Longview State.”

Blair moved in closer, sitting next to him as she placed a hand on the man’s shoulder “This won’t last forever, Jarvis will come through for us.” She said taking a moment to think. “I’ve seen him in action, Marcus. Now soldier boy, come on. I believe we have to make up lost time.”

Marcus stiffened up for a second, around Blair. She knew he was tense, but was it a wise time to try and comfort him. They have been dating since they reached the Omniverse, and the tension was biting both of them.

The stench of technological wonders were now used against the Avengers instead of for them.

Blair scooted comfortably close to the hybrid and placed a hand around the man’s shoulder, placing a sweet kiss on his cheek before turning toward the other cells.

The cell across from them had Spector and the stranger man talking to each other, while the other Avengers were being placed in their cells as well.

Marcus muttered something under his breath “Blair, next time before trying to kick a stormtrooper, make sure the orange door is down. I can tackle him.”

Blair couldn’t help but smirk from her unlikely boyfriend’s advice. “I can handle myself, Marcus.”

The terminator gave a small smile and then placed his hands back on his legs, shaking off the shock of the cuffs placed on his arms, not to mention they had been uncomfortably tight to say the least.

Marcus turned toward the other cells, eyeing the others as they got comfortable, if they could. The last prison he had been thrown in was fair enough. He had seen himself tried, convicted and killed and even he thought that was fair for his first lifetime.

This time? Marcus’s sense of justice was still there, buried deep, he didn’t believe the Avengers deserved to be thrown in the same hellhole he was supposed to be in.

Marcus sneered as he punched the wall, leaving a mark. “Well guys, Welcome to my world.”

“Let me tell you my last visit to a Maximum security prison was not pretty.”

His face turned stone cold and he got up, passing Blair standing in front of the orange cell.

“The place was Longview Maximum Prison. Some Doctor who was dying from cancer wanted me to sell my body to Cyberdyne research for a kiss. Turns out I never knew I wouldn’t be coming back alive after all here.”

Blair felt herself, tapping her foot on the ground. “The empire’s got some fucked up sense of morals. Topsy-turvy even. We can’t even defend ourselves. Feels like we stumbled back into the nuclear wastelands, huh, Marcus? I should of done more to stop Hydra, they just overpowered .. m- us.”

Blair turned “If we are stuck here for a long time, Marcus. Let it be known that I’ll stick it through with you.”

The machine man nodded “I’m sure MK will help you fight better.”

Blair turned “He did a good job.”

Marcus’s eyes were now focused more on the cell’s distance from each other, trying to see just how far the stormtroopers were focused on keeping the Avengers away from each other.

Every step of the stormtroopers pacing the halls, placing a new pair of Avengers in cages made the man watch each step and what cages they were in case they were a farther distance than he thought.

The sparks of the orange door flickered and flashed back into place as Marcus tested his luck on the door in front of him.

“So the wave of the future, not cell bars but electric shields to keep us in, huh.”

A loud voice blared through the cell.“Prisoner D324, stop punching the electric door.”

Marcus looked up “Grrr!”

Blair pulled him back.
[Image: marcus%20wright%20sig.png]

[Image: ytLTikp.png?1]
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#3
Pressure weighed down on the groggy boy's shoulders as his eyes scrambled to make sense of the small room Cade was in. A hazy voice spoke to him, apologizing for something, and the young man blinked blindly. His body ached, like he had been tossed through a meat grinder. Sore muscles cried out in rebellion as he struggled to sit up. The weight on his shoulders was gentle, but a primal instinct within the still semi-conscious young man triggered a violent reaction. Thankfully, he was not strong enough to do anything more than wriggle and push at Spector's arms, mumbling for the man to let him go. Marc stepped back, allowing Cade to gather himself.

  The young Hawaiian sat up and put his hands to his head. Running his fingers through the sandy brown mop on his scalp, Cade started to remember. The fight, the city, Angel, those costumed characters... His ass had been royally kicked.

"Y-you guys... you're one of the guys I fought in the city?"

"One of many." Spector took a seat on his own cot, leaning forward with hands clasped and placing his elbows on his knees

"What ha-... Oh God, Angel!" Cade shot to his feet, frantic, but his equilibrium failed him. Spector jumped forward and provided the young man with support. Carefully, Cade lowered himself back to a sitting position. Marc patted Cade's shoulder and returned to his own cot. "Is-Is she okay?"

"Safe, albeit a bit flustered. She has quite a mouth on her."

"Yeah, she does..." Cade smirked, but his mild happiness was squelched by the humming orange barrier blocking off their cell. He looked back to Spector, still confused. "You were talking to someone earlier, when I was still out?"

"Yes."

The Hawaiian glanced around the otherwise empty room. "Who?"

"I was speaking to Khonshu, God of Vengeance and the Moon. I am his arm, extended out into this world to dispense justice upon the unrighteous. I am the watcher, the guardian, the protector of those who trek under the lunar glow. I am the Moon Knight, his faithful servant."

"...Oh."

  Cade, now fully awake, forced his painfully sore body to rise to its feet. He glanced down at his hands and at the shimmering orange wall. He approached it and held out his right arm. Wordlessly, he summoned the Centurion Apparatus. The nano-machines buzzed beneath his skin, rushing through his veins to coalesce in a silver carapace over his limb... but nothing happened. Cade tried again, knitting his brow with focus. Much to the boy's chagrin, the Apparatus failed to respond. Suddenly, a sharp pain spiked on the side of his neck and he shot up his other hand to feel a thin metal disk resting on his skin. Like a systemic shock, the disc released a heart-fluttering pulse and Cade could feel the Centurion Apparatus melt back into whatever cavity in his body it hid in.

"Ow! What the actual Hell?"

"Some sort of inhibitor disc," Spector mused. "It must be designed to prevent you from deploying your suit, whatever it is."

"Sonofa..." Cade clenched his fists with frustration and punched the barrier. A painful shock drove it's way up his limb, using his bones like a highway, and Cade's arm was thrown back by the electric wall. "AGH, mistake!"

  He nursed his stinging knuckles and glared out at the domed cells surrounding them. Storm Troopers peered intimidatingly from rotating gravity lifts and isolated watchtowers. Intermittently, a lift would deposit one or two prisoners into random cells or retrieve a prisoner from a cell they occupied. 

"What's with the plastic spacemen?" Cade asked.

"Stormtroopers, Imperial foot soldiers."

"Imperial?"

"You're new here, aren't you." It was more of an observation than a question.

"Fresh off the boat."


"Welcome to the Omniverse, kid. Imperials own this Verse. Their soldiers walk the streets and run the prisons. After our scuffle earlier, the Stormtroopers tossed us in here as penance." Marc pointed at the watchtowers. "They're dangerous foes, but I wouldn't stress it. The Avengers have clout with the Emperor, and backup is on it's way."

"We're busting out of here??
" Cade spun around, excited.

"No. Our butler will handle the red tape."

Visibly thrown off, Cade sat down on his cot again. "You were the guy in white, yeah?"

"Yes."

"You have a hell of a dropkick, you know that?"

Spector smirked and adjusted himself on the cot. "As Avengers, we do our best to be the best."

"Avengers, what's that? Like a... superhero team?"

"Precisely. Like minded individuals, dedicated to defending the innocent. A conglomerate of the mightiest heroes this world has to offer."

Cade nodded in understanding. "That's... pretty badass actually."

"You know," Spector began. "We could use someone like you. We've recently... lost a few members. New blood could go a long way in our crusade against injustice.'

  The young man was taken aback by the offer. He glanced out at the prison cells lining the walls, not able to recognize the world he was in. Cade Faulkner was lost, floating unguided in a new universe with new rules. Home was far away, so far he could probably never get back there. Maybe roots wouldn't be so bad. However, the boy had qualms with settling. It carried with it an air of acceptance, of defeat. It was like he was accepting this reality as his own, like he could never get home. He didn't believe that. There had to be a way back, a way to see his family again... to see Gwen. The thought jogged his memory and he frantically searched his prison jumper for her hat. Nothing. The green beanie was nowhere to be found in any of his neon orange pockets. Panicked, he stood up and rifled through the cot, hoping maybe it had been lost in the sheets. He tossed the flat pillow, the thin blanket, and even turned over the mattress to find nothing.

"Is something wrong?" Marc peered at Cade curiously.

"The hat! Her hat, it's gone!"


"Angel's hat?"

"NO! No, Gwen!" Cade sat back down, gripping his head with a tight grip. His knuckles went white as he squeezed his scalp. "My best friend, I had her hat!"

"Likely the Stormtroopers took it, along with your other clothes," Marc said.

"No! I need to get it back!" He ran up to the shimmering barrier and glanced frantically around the dome. "How do I get it back?"

"Relax, hero. Relax." Spector stood up and walked over to Cade, placing a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. "We'll make sure you get it on our way out."

  Only mildly calmed by the man's words, Cade nodded and returned to the cot. Marc watched the gravity lifts for a moment, allowing Cade to burn through his thoughts in silence. After some time had passed, he looked back at the boy, shoulder leaned up against the wall next to the barrier.

"I'm Marc. You?"

Cade looked up, his eyes red and strained, but no tears allowed to escape their ocular prison. His face was set hard, resisting the emotion welling up inside. "Centurion."

"No, not your moniker. Your name."

The boy paused, staring at Spector. He thought hard before relenting. "Cade. Cade Faulkner."

"Good to meet you Cade."

Cade just nodded, obviously still lost in his own head. Marc looked back out through the orange window. 

It would seem we have ourselves a child in a man's uniform, Marc, desperate to play the hero he can never be.

"That seems harsh. And uncalled for." Spector whispered, keeping his voice low as not to disturb Cade.

But accurate. Look at him, trying not to cry.

"He's far from home."

So are we. My son, now is not the time for weak links. You have no reason to trust the boy can handle what is coming next. More than likely, he's never experienced anything like this before.


"All due respect, Khonshu, but I can handle this myself."

Very well, the God scoffed. But when he breaks down when he's most needed over some girl back home, don't come crying to me. I warned you.

Marc closed his eyes and focused as Khonshu's biting words faded away. He turned back to Cade and walked to his own cot. Taking a seat once more, the man leaned forward.

"Are you alright."

"Fine." Cade's voice was strong, unshaken by his emotions. Any trace of what he had been feeling before had left his face, now replaced with a cold and distant anger. "Just looking forward to getting out of this dump."

"That may take some time."

"Then let me get this DAMN thing off my neck so I can..." Cade started pulling at the disc on his neck. "GAH, what the HELL!"

"Cade, relax."

The boy stopped tugging, wincing at the shock it had administered. The hissing of a gravity lift sounded outside the barrier and a pair of troopers with a prisoner slid across their cell. A speaker crackled in their cell.

"Prisoner D773F, refrain from touching the Inhibitor."

"GET THE STICK OUTTA YOUR ASS AND MAKE ME, SPACE NAZI!" There was no response and Cade simply sucked his teeth in annoyance and flopped back on the bed.


"Antagonizing them won't help, Cade."

"But it makes me feel better... kinda."

Marc smirked and nodded. "Maybe. Just be patient, Jarvis will be here soon."

"Okay..." Silence followed, and Marc respected Cade's space. After a minute of quiet, the boy spoke again. "The Avengers. Tell me more?"

"Kid, I could tell you some amazing stories, some real tales to astonish..."

Cade was listening.
From Hawaii, With Love
[Image: W4PxwDv.jpg]
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#4
There was a lot of commotion going on around Dust, a lot more than one man could honestly commit to memory. Except this was Hokori Hoshi aka SW-808. Contractors, they were great at what they did.

Dust’s emotions had flooded him the moment he came to the Omniverse, like you would imagine six years of suppressed basic feelings would crash upon a man whose been ripped from time and space to be some man’s puppet of entertainment. Except, maybe not with the full knowledge of what is going on. He felt a great deal in all his days so far, all of them positive. So far, his experiences were good. Only recently when he lost Hoseki did he experience worry.

Now, as the man in his plastic looking armor bravely walked up to a subject that towered over him with cuffs that may not fit the thinner wrists on a man Dust’s size, there was a disturbance. Dust was unable to express his pain properly when he’d been 15. Captured with so much complacency that matched a lost child by the Russian government, Hokori had been lifted to his feet and pushed in the direction of the car. He went without judgment, with little thought if any. He’d sat down on the hard leather seats of the nicely cared for or new vehicle, blank stares and without feeling. He barely noticed the head had been removed from his lap, sparsely remembered what significance the woman’s expression meant to him. But now his red eyes pierce the armor of the man in front of him as easily has his claws could have.

A warning growl came from his throat at the officer’s approach, one not even he’d known would come out. He was swiftly elbowed by his fellow avenger’s, and quickly put back in place. He was not happy, but Wolf offered his hands just the same, glare set in the stone of his face. The stormtrooper that was tasked with putting cuffs on the largest man of the group didn’t even look up at him. If he did, he’d see a man with defiance flashing through his blood red eyes. Something he hadn’t been able to feel during his first or second time of capture. He held no amount of fear.

---

Behind Lycan was a past full of abuse, as the trooper’s pushed his companions into their new homes and locked the doors behind, it was taking enormous amounts of restraint for the contractor to not bash their heads in. For the most part, his scrunched up nose went without notice by all but one person. Angel. She was enraged, and not ready to shut up. Even if her heart thumped crazily by the idea of all these hero’s she knew fact after fact about within arm’s length. She had been too busy freaking out at the black and white situation forced upon her for the time while they were being transported to fangirl, but when he heard the large man suck at his teeth in a very defiant way she had to stop.

Angel’s long blue hair moved as she looked up into the angry face of the usually emotional neutral vision that normally sat on contractor’s faces. She has long since confirmed this was Hokori Owari Hoshi, Star Dust the Russian Werewolf from his stand alone Darker than Black series. She has memorized his body, for cosplay purposes of course. All but one scar on his body matched perfectly with the various posters she had available to hang on her wall for buying all the special editions of his series. “SW-808?” Her voice came out in a whisper, soft and hesitant. And yet, as soon as her word’s left her lips, his eyes snapped to attention on her. Her heart began to flutter faster. “It is you!.” Her voice still hushed, but her excitement uncontainable.

“How do you know that name?” Dust’s Russian accent was fain, much fainter than Jakob’s. It mixed with the Danish in his blood, the Nipon in his tongue...

Angel looked down, blushing. Opening her mouth up to answer, only for the guard to grab her by the hair. She cried out as he began. “D869F, D834K, and DA389!” The guard got rough, yanking at the young girl, irritated that she was not paying attention. Unknown to him, Dust’s blood began to boil over, his claws showing signs of reforming at his fingertips, his mouth full of sharpened teeth snarl as he threatens to snap.

The young woman’s eyes widened fearfully. “COMRADE, NO!” She cried out, reaching for him. Dust’s blazing eyes came back down on her specifically, causing her to almost fall under the weight of his intimidation. She felt her shoe slid from under her and causing her to trip up, but she saw how it did not affect him the way she’d seen it several times in his series. But she got his attention all the same. She didn’t know what to follow up with however, and just followed the guard’s pushing.

The weight of the man they thought the could man-handle through the gate shifted and made itself known as he took a dry step closer to the appointed cell. Dick, D834K according to one of the many people they’ve been paraded in front of today, stepped up behind the larger man. His hand placed on the man’s shoulder. “Easy big guy, it is much wiser to go along with these things.” He tried.

Volk’s eyes narrowed down on the one who yanked Angel’s hair but walked past him and the other men. They would need all of the present to stop Dust if he had any nature in him to be more defiant than just stubborn. He bowed his head finally and followed Angel into the cell, no one pushing him other than the older man’s guiding hand. If he could take down a building by being thrown, on his own he must have scared those around him.

After all three were in the confined space, the bright orange lines stop them from escaping or changing their minds about their agreement of going into the cage on their own accord. Again, it very well would have taken everyone present on that hover disk for them to stop any number of these Primes, but the smug voice that mocked them said none of them understood that fully yet. “Have a nice stay.” He said, laughing with them as they rose higher.

Dick was the only person who seemed to be paying them the respectful attention they demanded. Inside, Angel was being corned against the back wall by Hokori’s mere look. “Who are you?” He asked he demanded. It shook her core.

“Angel, Angel Fisher.”

“That name means nothing to me.” Dust said, bluntly, looking more like his wolf than his man.

“You don’t know me.” Angel stuttered.

“But you know me?”

“I know of you.” Angel said, offering something more than just a back and forth. “I know you are a contractor, that you become a fearsome beast for the price of a kiss.” Dust looked more alarmed than usual about this information, the fact that emotions weighed on his face so freely alarmed her. She tried to look at his chest instead. His.. Naked chest. His arms and legs shook. “And I know that if you don’t make out with someone soon, you're going to be in a bad place.” She said, pointing at his legs. “Look, you can barely stand!” Her voice suddenly grew more bold. The terrified has vanished. “How many kisses have you skipped!?”

Dust’s eyes glance backward at Dick without looking at him. There was a long moment of silence despite the angry banging on one of the cell doors, then he turned back to her. Admitting with honesty. “Too many.”

“I flippin’ bet!” Angel said, sounding more and more like herself. “Now you come over here and we can talk about it after you are taken care of.” She pointed to the bed in the corner, her other hand finding purchase on her hip. She looked very stern and very serious. “Sit.” She demanded.

Dust stood there, then took a long breath through his nose before buckling under her pressure. He moved over to the bottom bunk, the prison-issued springs not strong enough for the likes of the werewolf prime. He struggled between leaning back and looking like a douche, and leaning forward only to look uncomfortable. He decided to just sit forward and hang his tired head, rubbing the heels of his palms into his eyes. She was right, he was on the verge of breaking down, he knew he couldn’t stall that long without repercussion.

Angel nodded triumphantly. “Good boy.” She said, then turned to Dick. She wanted to say something equally as impressive or smart to him, but came up blank. Instead, she just turned hot in the face and ducked off into the bottom bunk with Dust. For a bit, her bravery was put aside as she realized what position she put herself into. It was a bit late to stop and think about things though, wasn’t it? “C’mon. I don’t know what happens when a contractor doesn’t complete his payment, and I don’t want to find out this way.” She said, giving him a soft smack on the bare shoulder. She then swallowed hard before continuing. “It's just a kiss.”

The much taller prime looked up and back at her as she pushed further behind his shadow. Dust looked back at Dick, ashamed of himself, but the older Prime has taken the clues to look away and inspect the device that was ‘holding’ them here.

Ookami sighed, shook his head and tried to ignore how different this felt. He twisted as best he could in the lower bunk, the wimpy springs straining under his weight. He had to curl his back and neck to come closer, hover over her practically. He watched her cautiously as he positioned himself close enough, she seemed nervous despite her demands. Normally - before the Omniverse - he wouldn’t be able to hesitate the way he did. He wouldn’t be able to care the way he did. “You tremble like a child…” He said, not exactly sure of her age.

“I’m fine.” She said, without thinking again, her voice quieter than before. She sat back, against the railing in the head of the bed, looking up at him, hands in her lap, sitting stiffly.

He didn’t believe her, but he had to in order to kiss her like she told him to. He reached up to touch her cheek gently, cup it to hold her in place. She pushed her face into his hand and closed her eyes, striking him with how trusting she was a stranger like him so close. However, Angel sounded like she understood completely what and why it had to happen. Maybe he was just overthinking things.

With the thought of how he should just do as he was told, a familiar thought mind you, he finally leaned down and touched his lips with her’s. Brushing against them, he could already feel relief at the edges of his mind. This is how he imagined drug addicts felt when they finally are able to take a pill or a hit after being too long without their fix. He pressed harder.

He thought he would just be kissing her, but after a moment he felt her pressing her lips to his. Relief pooled towards the base of his skull, the point where the neck and head meet. Every second of her kissing him brought on more and more relaxation to his muscles. Instinctively he twisted his head and wrapped his arm around her, kissing her more passionately. She did nothing to stop him, and he only barely noticed. His fingertips dug into her soft flesh, stroking her shoulder absently.

If anyone timed it, it would have still seemed really long. Kiss after kiss adding up to the payment he owed. When it felt less like an obligation, more like a pleasure, and more empowering to him specifically, he realized he should pull away. He hesitated to do so, but finally was able to will himself out of it. When he did, they were both breathing just slightly heavier. He forced himself to withdraw gently, not wanting to rip himself from her grip when she’d been so helpful.

He noticed the soft blush on her cheeks, reached up to brush it off before realizing it wasn’t that easy. “How do you know me…?” He asked again, whispering so Dick didn’t have to listen.
[Image: source.gif]
"Centurion: I'll leave you to your work then Dust. Thanks for chatting!
Me: no problem. stay awesome!
Centurion: It's more of a passive ability"
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#5
"...And then as if it were some tale of suspense Captain America shouted at the top of his lungs 'Avengers Assemble!'" Marc explained, his gleeful smirk from spanning the story about the mightiest heroes vanished, instantaneously. His face's merit replaced with a downpour of sorrow. Slowly Spector lowered his upper body leaning off his cot and bowed his head giving a low sigh. 

"What's wrong?" Cade asked cocking an eyebrow. 

Quickly Marc shoot his head up bringing his hands to his face slowly rubbing them downward. His eye's were blood shot red and sunken. He fought hard to keep the warm sensation of tears from bursting out of his brown eyes. 


"I... I try so hard to do better. I try to bring good to all that I'm around. To cope with my past sins and atone with them." He said bringing both his hand slightly into the air clinching his fists tight. 

"I want- need you to understand something. I am a very bad man I've killed many people and done somethings I'm not very proud of. I- I killed Captain America. I should't have but he turned evil, he was not the man he used to be. Cap was a man who could walk into a room and you would quickly come to liking him. He brought the best out of everybody. And I killed him, I took his head clean off, he was a sick joke of what he originally was. His face sunken in forming some joke of a Red Skull." Marc clasped his fingers together on top of the bridge of his nose. His eyes still fought to hold back tears. "I keep telling myself that what I did was self defense, that I was Justified, that Khonshu was right. But it all comes back to me biting as if it were some bad old dream but what do you know? You're just a kid."

Spector tilted his head peering back out the orange force field that blocked them into their cell. Quickly another lift scurried by dropping off a prisoner.  

Quietly, Cade stared at the floor, absorbing the impact of Spector's words. After a moment, his shaky voice broke the tense silence.

"I know exactly what it's like. I still have nightmares about the lives I've... taken." 

The boy ran his hands through his sandy hrown hair, every muscle resisting an emotional discharge. He stared at his palms, his mind's eye watching the blood they were drenched with drip onto the floor. He knew.

"Sometimes I'm afraid to sleep. I wake up in cold sweats, screaming, and I have to explain to my mom or my friends that it was just another bad dream. I mean, how do you tell them you've murdered people? That their faces visit you at night? Even when it's for a good reason, it's never right... never..."

Marc slowly brought his head to face Cade once more. 

"You're afraid that because of these terrible deeds that they'll come bringing some revenge. You're afraid that your loved ones will be harmed. I never want to be loved by any one. The ones that have are already burdened by hurt and pain. My life has always been a downwards spiral to the mad house."

 Marc took in a heavy breath collecting his thoughts. 

"You'll go far kid."

"Thanks." It was an empty response, burdened by doubt. Cade was finding he had more in common with this Moon Knight than he expected to.

-

"I'm telling you it's a total disgrace Doctor Walter."

"And I completely understand Warden Ellis." Dr. Walter retorted following the Warden into the prison's evidence room. 

"Masked vigilantes roaming the streets? What has our Empire come to? If I had my way I'd hang em in the streets." Ellis said both men stopping beside a display case holding the black and white armor of the Moon Knight. Walter stepped close to it observing the suit closely. Curiously he placed his brown hand on the chest plate his fingers feeling the crescent emblem before yanking his hand back. 

"Can we question their leader and the one who caused the riot?" He asked turning back to the grizzled warden, rubbing his hands and scratching his trimmed beard in thought. 



Marc sat on his cot in silence occasionally taking glances back and forth from Cade to the outside of the cell and then back again. He took the moment to collect himself and think. It felt great to finally talk to someone about the death of Captain America. It was a feeling he hand't felt in a while. A feeling he only had when he was with Marlene. Marc's heart ached at the thought of Marlene, it was like he hadn't seen her in a hundred maybe thousands of years. The love for her was still as fresh as that terrible day. The day Marc Spector died and the Moon Knight was born. 

"It seems fair seeing as you already asked a question what is it like to be the Centurion to be the hero for you?" Spector asked turning his gaze fully at Cade.  

"I don't feel like much of a hero right now-" Cade stated before being abruptly cut off. 

Stormtroopers pilled into the cell snatching Marc and Cade up ripping them from their cell and shoving them onto a lift. 



Marc sat blankly in the lounge chair he was forced into his hands gripping the chair's arms tightly. Spector's brown eyes darted in a directions scanning the room he was moved into. He could tell that this was some kind of interrogation and physic ward all together. Quietly a tall broad shouldered black skinned man with a trimmed beard wearing a tan suit with khaki pants entered the room. Placing a note book on the table in front of Marc he took his seat. 

"Prisoner D667B may I ask what your name is?" The man asked folding his hands together.

Marc blinked tilting his head forward. "I am the Moon Knight and you?"

Breathing heavily through his nose giving a low sigh the man took out a pencil and started taking notes.

"I am Doctor John Walter, the prison's physic warden here. Are you or are you not the leader of the Avengers?" Walter asked looking up from his notes. 

"...No, The Vision is the team's real leader." 

"And where is he?" 

"He's off fighting Nebula or something." 

Walter took a second to jolt down some notes before looking back up. 

"And exactly how long have you been... Crime fighting?"

"Years." Marc said soberly. 

"Uhuh, Moon Knight I've seen the crescent emblem on your armor what does it mean?" 

Marc sat up in his seat clasping his hands together kneeling forward. 

"It is the mantle of Khonshu, Khonshu the traveler, Khonshu the protector, and bringer of justice. The god of vengeance and the Moon." 

Walter continued to put down notes whispering to himself about multiple personalities. 

"And how long have you known this Khonshu? Better yet can I speak with him?" He asked putting down his pencil starring back up at Marc.  

"Why not find out for yourself?" 

"What?" The doctor asked cocking an eyebrow. 

Marc Jumped from his seat his eye's glowing yellow. Bringing both his hands he smashed them onto the desk. Paper's were sent flying in a cyclone blocking the man's vision. As the lose paper began to settle standing before him was no longer the man Marc Spector. Standing before Dr. Walter was a tall humanoid figure  wearing an all white suit and an over sized bird skull for a head. Walter to shot his head back startled by the surprising sight. 

"You mortal's are weak and puny, you all call to one thing and that is power. My dear Doctor John Walter I know your kind, you claim to know and understand things that others cannot. You claim to a weak Emperor with a weaker Empire. You say that madness is a disease but truly you don't understand. I see through your facade, so listen for I have something to tell you. There are things in this world better yet left alone, things in this world that make your Empire look as if it were only sand in the Eastern Desert." 

Quickly as he appeared Khonshu slammed in the desk once more before jumping back in his seat. As if he switched in a blink of an eye Khonshu was no longer there. The moon god was replaced back with Marc. Spector flinched into his seat raising his head shouting at the top of his lungs. Still frightened Walter his eye's opened wide in horror, shot up from his seat pointing at Spector.

"Put this man on a gurney and get him out in the hallway!" 

Guards burst thought the door their hands gripped tightly on a gurney as they rolled it into the room. Without wasting time the guards struggled with Marc before strapping him in. Taking turns beating at him, they rolled him into the hallway before snatching Cade up dragging him into the interrogation room.
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#6
"Cade?"

"Mm..."

"Are you still sleeping?"

"Mhm..."

"I wanted to ask you something."

Cade rolled over, rubbing his eyes against sleepiness. He glanced up from the floor at the alarm clock on Kirby's desk: 3:34. An unholy hour, but who really sleeps at a sleepover?


"What's up?" Cade could feel his hair sticking out in every direction as he begged his eyelids to stop weighing a ton and a half.

Gwen was sitting up, knees hugged to her chest, up by the window of Kirby's room. The blanket and blow up mattress she had been given was made and looked as if she had nevr even slept in it. Her red hair hung loose around her shoulders and down the back of her loose white shirt. The dim light of the night created heavy shadows, her face mostly hidden. However, the slightest glistening of tears on her cheeks instantly snapped Cade awake. He glanced at the bed behind him, Kirby snoring quietly. Satisfied that he and Gwen were relatively alone, he spoke with a hushed voice.

"Gwen, are you okay?"

"N-no..." She forced the words past a tightened throat and welling tears.

Cade sat up, tugging his shirt to cover his stomach and watching the girl with concern. "What's wrong?"

"I..." She started to speak, but went silent. Her shoulders shook in the dark, the quietest sniffles breaking Cade's heart. He just watched and listened, letting her cry. Eventually, the girl took a deep and shaky breath. "I don't want to go home in the morning, Cade."

The boy closed his eyes to maintain control, anger welling in his chest. "Did he hi-"

"No. No, he just... I don't want to go home."

"You can come with me if you want. I don't have work tomorrow."

She didn't respond


"Gwen?"

"Do you hate me Cade?" Her voice was almost inaudible.

"What?"

"Do you hate me?"

"No, Gwen, you're my best friend. Of course not."

A moment of silence passed and Gwen turned to stare out of the window. "I hate me."


Cades heart was sliced in two by the words, each half burning up with anger and sadness. He pushed his way out from under the blanket Kirby had given him and moved next to the girl. He held out an arm invitingly. She looked at him, eyes red and tears streaking down her freckled face. The blue light of the moon cast harsh shadows over her. He smiled reassuringly and Gwen leaned into him. She rested her head on his shoulder and her wrapped his arm around her. The moon watched as she quietly grieved.They stared out into the night, Gwen sobbing quietly. He didn't let go until she finally fell asleep. He watched her for a moment, her face finally peaceful. Heartbroken, Cade gently lowered Gwen to the floor and covered her with his blankets. He sat by the window, in case she woke up again.

"I don't hate you," He whispered. "I promise."

The night stretched on, Gwen's quiet breathing a constant salve to the boy's aching heart. He stared at the floor, lost in his own memories.

"But I know how you feel."


-

A gurney crashed into the cell accompanied by a team of angry Stormtroopers. Spector was restrained on the gurney, eyes wide and manic. Cade leaped up from his cot, snapped out of his thoughts, and moved towards the gurney. A trooper shoved him harshly back down onto the bed. Two others grabbed Cade, restraining him.

"Moon Knight!" Cade shouted, appalled.

Cade raged against his captors, the troopers gloved fingers digging into his skin through the prison jumper. Both Troopers grabbed him roughly by the arms and hoisted him up. Dragged out of his cell and into the hallway to the interrogation room, Cade snarled like a wild animal. He struggled for footing as he was forced down the hall. Arms restrained, he resorted to more creative methods of resistance. Cade kicked off the wall, slammed one of the troopers into the railing. With a curse, the Stormtrooper rammed the boy back into the opposite wall and barked incoherent orders. The troopers resumed the trek, grips tighter than before, and arrived at the Interrogation Room. Tossed into a lonely chair, across from a man in a white coat, Cade could feel his adrenaline pumping. It took a good amount of his self-control not to lash out at any of the troopers nearby. Cade sneered at the man across the dull metal table.

"Another one for you Walters. This is the one that started it all." The trooper Cade had shoved squeezed the boy's shoulder harder than necessary before backing out of the room.

The doctor was an older man, older than Cade at least, with dark skin and thinning hair. His hands were well kept: the cuticles were trimmed and the nails cleaned. Overall a specimen of cleanliness, there was something inherently uncomfortable about the doctor. He had a notepad and pen in one hand, the other spreading out documents and folders in a show of intelligence and control.

"Hello, Prisoner..." Dr. Walters rifled through his folder and nodded. "Prisoner D773F. My name is Doctor John Walters, the prison Psychiatrist. I'm hoping you can give me your name?"

"Yeah, I can." 

Silence. The doctor furrowed his brow. Another difficult case. "Then what can I call you?"

Walters' patience cooled Cade's temper a bit and he allowed his glare to ease. "Centurion."

"Is that your name?"

"When it needs to be."
Cade kept his tone professional and curt.

"I see." Dr. Walters jotted down a note in his book and carried on. "This Avengers team, are you associated with them in anyway?"

"No sir."

"So this altercation in Coruscant, it wasn't an internal affair?"

"No sir. It was entirely my fault."

"Witnesses say that it was the larger, wolf-like individual that started the fight."

"My fault, sir,"
Cade insisted.

Walters nodded and wrote a few more lines in the book. For a newcomer and a firsthand victim of the Avengers' more violent talents, the boy was surprisingly loyal to a team he claimed no linkage to. Nonetheless, the Doctor carried on his string of questions.

"How did it begin?"

"There was a lady, she had been disrespected. I had to stand up for her."

"Noble. You are aware those three men you fought with preceding the brawl with the Avengers have all been hospitalized?"

"She was also my friend. That's two very serious lines crossed sir. Where I come from, we don't stand for that."

"I see." Dr. Walters watched Cade sit in his chair, the boy barely fidgeting. It was almost as if he had been trained against interrogations. "How about your suit, Centurion. We had to try a few variants of the Inhibitor frequency before we found the right one to scramble your suit. It's rather fascinating."

"Trade secret."

"So you can't tell me where you got it?"

Cade paused, eventually shrugging. "Space."

"Aha." Walters noted it. "I feel as if you're avoiding any lengthy explanations, Centurion, care to explain?"

"I'm still not convinced you're not the bad guy here,"
Cade responded flatly.

"Ah. What can I do convince you?"

Cade simply stared.

"Hm. I understand, Centurion. How about we talk about this girl. Are you in love with her?"

"Excuse me?"
Cade flinched, breaking his consistent record of stoicism.

"The girl you defended, with the blue hair. Was it because you love her?"

"I've known her for barely a couple of days." The young man seemed agitated by the suggestion, leaning back and crossing his arms defensively.

"It's just surprising you'd go to such great lengths for a girl you barely know."

"You must not know how being a hero works."

"So that's a no."

Cade glared at the doctor, vehemence coloring his gaze. "Yes. That's a no."

Dr. Walters nodded and started to write again. This time his pencil danced across the notepad for almost a minute straight, laying out lines of notes and annotations. Cade simply watched, his blank exterior regained. The quiet humming of lifts buzzing by outside the door randomly provided an empty ambience to the room. The young Faulkner watched the doctor's face as he wrote, absorbing every detail. Finally, Walters finished his notes and looked back up at his subject.

"So, tell me about the hat."

The reaction the doctor's request elicited was instant but undefined. Cade's eyes widened, but his jaw remained set. He uncrossed his arms and folded them on his lap. He could see the hat in his mind's eye, that green beanie with its loose thread under the brim and soft material. However hard he tried, he couldn't picture it without imagining it on Gwen's head: Her red hair peeking out from under the hat, a big smile on her face. The Hawaiian sun gleaming through her auburn locks and highlighted the most perfect smile in existence... Cade had to force himself to focus as he caught himself drifting. 

"It belongs to a friend." He swallowed back memories.

"Is that why you fought our guards when they tried to take it?"

Cade didn't remember that. He had likely been more unconscious than conscious. At the very least, the boy derived some comfort from knowing he had tried. The doctor noted Cade's vacant expression and nodded, recording his observations on the pad.

"I'd like you to open up to me a bit more, Centurion. We don't have a lot of time left before I have to move on to the other Avengers."

"There's nothing to open up about, sir."

"Obviously this 'friend' meant something to you. Do you see her in the blue-haired girl? Is that why you were impassioned to protect her?"

Cade narrowed his eyes and stood up. "You're right doctor, we're running out of time. I'd like to return to my cell."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible. We'll be moving you to an observation room where we can moniter and study you."

"Excuse me!?" Cade clenched his jaw and his fists.

"Your suit poses an interesting research project that the Warden here is interested in exploiting. Besides, seeing as you aren't associated with the Avengers you won't mind being separated, hm?"

The young man jabbed a finger at Dr. Walters. "I am NOT a science project! The suit stays with me!"

"I'm sorry, but that's not my decision to make. As long as I deem you psychologically fit, it's up to the Warden what happens to you here."

"If your tin soldiers touch me, I'm gonna show them firsthand what this suit can do!"

"Centurion, you're powerless." Walters leaned back and picked up his notebook, scanning the annotations. "Just as powerless as you seem to always feel. Don't worry, we can work on that."

The doors opened as Walters pressed a small button under the interrogation table. Two Stormtroopers entered and grabbed Cade by the shoulders. He tried to shake them off, glaring at the doctor. Walters stared at his notebook, enthralled in his own recordings.

"I look forward to getting to know you, and your suit, much better Centurion."

Cade opened his mouth to retort but a swift strike with the butt of a rifle caused a burst of light to overpower his vision. The Troopers dragged him from the room, kicking and shouting. He pulled and bucked like a wile animal as the Stormtroopers forced him into the hallway. Desperately, Cade mentally screamed for the Apparatus to encase him. The nano-machines stood silent, overpowered by the disc on his neck. Cade passed his own cell and watched as Spector was aggressively shoved back to his own cot. Cade pulled towards his cell, tearing free of the Troopers and running for anywhere that wasn't there. He made it a few feet before his whole body locked up, searing pain shooting through every nerve and muscle. He dropped to the catwalk, too agonized to scream. Heat radiated from the Inhibitor Disc as it unloaded an electric shock into the young man's body. After what felt like hours, the Disc started to cool and his muscles were no longer screaming. 

Panting to catch his breath, Cade didn't have enough strength to fight the Troopers as they took him past Marc and to another cell a few columns over. The two men locked eyes for a moment, the younger of the two still hazy. Spector simply watched, unable to do anything from behind the wall. He gave Cade a tight smile to reassure him. Cade stumbled as he was pushed in front of the opening to the cell. He stood just outside where the barrier would activate once he was inside, staring at the blank room. One of the Stormtroopers jabbed Cade in the back with his rifle.

"Get inside."

"Bite me."

A boot slammed into Cade's ribs and he collapsed into the room. The energy barrier burst into existence, shimmering and humming as it closed Cade off from the rest of the prison. The Troopers carried on, leaving the boy to lay on his stomach and breath. Eventually, he pushed himself to his knees and dragged his body onto one of the empty cots. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. It was hard not to cry, partially from the pain and partially from fear. Gwen, Kirby, his mom, they were all gone. Cade would likely never see home again. He would never ride a wave with his best friend or go to the movies with his mother. He was alone, cut off in an alien universe and surrounded by nothing he recognized. The ceiling of the cell started to shift as his watery eyes overflowed. Cade felt his chest twitch involuntarily, sobs breaking his resolve.

As the crying intensified, Cade rolled onto his side, hoping to hide himself from sight. Curled up on the cot, he had never felt smaller. He wanted to close his eyes, to dream of home... to dream of Gwen. Instead he just stared at his hands. He was too afraid to sleep. He knew he wouldn't have dreams, just more nightmares. This one he was living was nightmare enough. His heart burdened by despair and anger and heartbreak, Cade Faulkner clenched his fists to fight his own emotion. It was a long and arduous battle. He lost.
From Hawaii, With Love
[Image: W4PxwDv.jpg]
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#7
Marcus swore he could hear them like howling in the wind. Screams tore through his head telling him, no damning him to this empire hellhole: a fowl reminder of his crimes. He stared bitterly through the barred windows, his life seemingly flashing before his eyes.

If the empire prison wasn’t a literal pithole in itself, his life was never the greatest. His family didn’t live the greatest life either. He grabbed the bars on the windows and squeezed as he gritted his teeth. He was reminded of his brother. Him and his brother running around outside, watching the cars go by. He and his brother loved cars. The speed, the drama, the adrenaline, everything about them. His brother even fixed the first car him and Marcus worked on together.
Everything seemed to going alright until a few days later.

A scream of a lady, Marcus and Sam’s mother and a scream of their father screaming back.

“YOU ASSHOLE!” Marcus’s mother tried to defend herself.

“You WERE CHEATING ON ME!” Marcus’s father screamed back

“WHAT?! HOW DARE YOU ACCUSE ME OF SUCH A THI- Marcus’s mother was pissed

Marcus’s mother stepped back as his father stepped forward to try to punch her as Sam and Marcus stepped in front of the father.

“Boys stay BACK!”

The boys were thrown back as they screamed as the father took out his rage on them instead.

“MARCUS, Sam!” “GET UP!”

The little children took a breath as the mother ran to the car and screamed “GET In THE CAR!” The boys did what they were told and hopped in the car with no second explanation as his mother pulled away while their father tried to chase them away “There’s no getting AWAY!”

The creepiness of the situation didn’t go away just like that as the family would have to move away from their house, to a new school district, a new area far away from the abusive father.

His father...

The first one to damn him when things went wrong in his childhood.

Another memory plagued him. During his teenage years, despite trying to live that new life with others, gang life plagued him, along with petty crimes.

“Come on, Marcus… I got a job for ya, you and your brother can run for a “job” for us, right?”
He accepted for the cash.

Himself

He damned himself for falling into the same crimes his petty teenage self. He worried he would fall into the same pattern as his father someday.

Then he fell into his own hole later on.

“Hey, guys. Listen to this. There’s a nice car out there waiting for you guys if you take this job.

Obviously they were lying when they said that.

There it was, the car was a beautiful shiny blue as his brother tempted him to steal it. “Do it Marcus, we need a new car.”

But the man took the offer.

Marcus was the only one alive, his brother dead and two cops dead later.

The sirens were blaring throughout the roads as the car screeched to a stop. Marcus screamed, holding his head as blood of his brother dripped from his head lying him on him.

Nothing but silence until “Rooster” came on. From that day on, that song blared in his head like a iron coal.

The cops stopped the car and told Marcus, the only survivor to get out and place his hands on the car.

His brother, two cops

The screaming of his brother and two cops ran through his head as he felt his arms, him being jolted out of his staring by Blair.

Ah yes, Blair.

His savior, bringing him back to reality. Just one reason why he was still alive and fighting. She kissed him for a second as she placed her hands on his shoulder “Marcus, are you alright?”

“I am alright, Blair. You know me.” Marcus muttered out a annoyed response.

Blair frowned “Bullshit, Marcus. You do this whenever you are trying to drive yourself around a problem.”
The terminator hopped on the second bunk “Not very often you return to the place you died, Blair.”

Blair climbed up and held a hand around Marcus’s neck “Shut up and kiss me, Marcus.”

The hybrid smiled “That’s why I love you, Blair.”

They shared a quick kiss before the commotion started.

Marcus pinched his nose “Deja Fuckin Vu’”

There was some sort of screaming which made Blair turn her head toward the commotion outside the orange energy shield.

“Psssst, Marcus! Over here.” She gritted her teeth as she tried to get the terminator’s attention.

Marcus immediately turned his head, annoyance clearly sounding in his voice “What?!”

Blair pointed “Look, there’s MK and that other stranger.”

Marcus frowned and instantly ran to the the energy field. The odd stranger was being “forcibly” dragged toward the interrogation room and the man was fighting back.

“Don’t tell THEM SHIT,” Marcus tried to rile up the man in the stormtrooper’s arms to fight back.

As Marcus screamed loudly, his words must of been lost to the echoes of the prison itself.

As the screams echoed, the prison speaker went off in Marcus and Blair’s cell.
The orange energy field whizzed down and four stormtroopers prepared to grab Marcus and Blair as Blair fought back against the plastic toy soldiers as Marcus tried to grit his teeth, and take being grabbed himself. and Marcus went quietly but watching as both were dragged away from each other into separate rooms.

Interrogation room #2

The metal plaque said on the door as they dragged Marcus inside, as the terminator was remarkably calm and didn’t fight back “Walters, this one didn’t fight back. This should be a easy case.”

Marcus gritted his teeth “Fuck you.”

The stormtroopers and Dr. Walters both shared a sigh of exasperation.
Dr. Walters tapped his notebook “So, Prisoner #773EB. Hm, alright, let’s get started.

“So what is your name. I meant your real name. Can you tell me it?”

“...” Marcus spat

“The terminator.”

The doctor seemed a bit impatient. Were all these Avengers going to make his life absolutely miserable. “Your real name, please.”

“The terminator, I said it.”

The Doctor typed a few things up. I think I can dig up something on you.”

“Let’s see here, by your face ID. I dug up a few things on you. Marcus Wright, murderer donates his body to science, Cyberdyne Systems.

Marcus stood up as the stormtroopers forced him down was almost furious at that point “HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET THAT INFO?!”

There was a brief pause in the doctor’s voice “Let’s see here, if you won’t talk, The Empire collects all sorts of stuff.”

“Says here you commited previous crimes, murder, car robbery and much much more.”

“SIT … DOWN.” The stormtroopers were forcing Marcus to sit down as he tried to force his way to Doctor Walters.

“Hmm? Project Angel by a Mrs. Serena Kogan? Interesting.”

Now, Mr. Wright, please tell me more.”

“Fuck you, I told you no.”

The doctor looked like he had a poker face and looked over at the stormtroopers “Boys.”

They held Marcus straight up so he wouldn’t push down.

“You are part of the Avengers, am I right?”

“Yes, sir.”
“Would you know the two members I last saw named Let's see, Moon Knight and Centurtarion. Would they be of any connection to you?”

Marcus gritted his teeth “Yes, they are.”

“Then you wouldn’t mind telling me why you helped in this fight against let’s see this Centuration and blue haired woman. What purpose does a man of your likes have in this Avengers team?

Marcus frowned “Something better than myself is out there. I’m a hero, that’s what they do.”

The Doctor frowned “Hm? Oh yes, can you tell me what Skynet is and why it’s connecting to you of all people?

“....” It’s a long story.”

Mr. Walters nodded and said “I have a lot of time. Please explain.”

Marcus frowned “Enough questions, i wish to go back to my cell.”

Mr. Walters nodded “I’m sorry, Marcus but i only do the testing. The warden tells us what we do next.”

“So what are your orders? The stormtroopers saluted.
[Image: marcus%20wright%20sig.png]

[Image: ytLTikp.png?1]
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#8
“Uh…” Fuck, Angel should have been prepared for this question after the last time, and yet, she wasn’t. ’I really need to stop getting distracted by cute boys.’ She pouted to herself as she tried to think of something. “C-could we talk about this when we’re alone?”

Dust read her like an open book, but couldn't say he wanted to continue a sensitive conversation like this in a prison no less. "Sure."

“Thanks…” The Blue haired girl slowly stood up and straightened her clothes before talking like the kiss didn’t just happen. “Now we just wait for the prison riot to break out.”

“How do you know there’ll be a riot?” Dust said, turning around and sitting up to face the child that ordered him to kiss her.

“Because the hero's never have to wait for bail to escape prison.” Angel seemed so sure of herself that is was almost impossible not to doubt her.

“Are you saying this type of thing happens often” Dick intervened, supposedly hearing the conversation. It made her go red with the thought that they may have been kissing loud enough for the man to hear, but she momentarily pushed that aside to answer his question.

“Not where you come from, no. In fact, there are are so many villas there I wouldn’t be surprised if there wasn't even any law enforcement there to begin with.” Before Dick could let out a retort, the sound of boots clanking along the floor interrupted him. “See?”

An awkward silence surrounded the group as a second past, and then another second… Then Angel finally remembered what that sound was. “CADE!!” Without thinking the weeb full force shoulder charged at the force-field that was keeping them in the cell. Only to be shocked and pushed back down on to the ground, the butt sore from the skidding and her hair now a frizzy mess. “I don’t know what I was thinking would happen there…”

Dust and Dick, shocked by what just happened, both got to the girl’s side as quickly as possible, the wolf man hitting his head on the way there in the excitement. “Are you okay?” The other one said.

“Yeah, I’m fine…” The girl lied… until she realized she was fine. ’How the hell am I fine after that.

“Are you sure?” The show of emotions still seem unusual, alien to her when paired with that voice it was shining through right now.

“I guess there’s only one way to find out.” She smirked slightly at him, trying hard to hide her uneasiness, though all that went out the window as she tried to stand up, her legs to wobbly o keep her up for more than two seconds before falling into Dust’s chest. “I also guess that’s means you’ll have to carry me.”

"Uhh.." Dust said, obviously thrown off by the request. "Happily, miss....?"

“So, how do you want to do this? Piggyback? Fireman? Bridal?”

Dust glanced up at Dick, before finally looking back. "To the bed?"

“Y-Yeah, that will do.” Angel firmly put her arms around the man's strong bare chest as he levered her up by her knee joints and back, both him and Dick exchanging awkward looks brought on by the girl snuggling into the wolfman like a Dakimakura. “Bridal it is then.” She was enjoying this way to much…

Not that it lasted for very long with the size of the cell, she was put down on the bed almost as quickly as she had been picked up. “You couldn’t have let me stay there a bit longer?” The girl pouted, letting her hands slip slowly from Dust’s back to his chest, when he moved back from this she pouted again, this time less audibly.

“So… ah… you mentioned a name when you tried to force your way through that… ah, forcefield. What was that?” Dust asked, trying to make the tension in the room less awkward.

“He’s my friend. The guy in the orange suit from space. The one you decided to beat up.”

"Is it orange?" Dust asked, thinking out loud. He was never really good with colors. He quickly shook his head, that wasn't what was important. "You mean the guy who was trying to abduct you."

“What? Now you are protecting the people? Did you tell him to do that?" She said, looking at Dick. She seemed a little more than mildly annoyed.

Dust tried to divert the attention back to himself as Angel’s anger flew in all directions. “Look he had nothing to do wi-”

“THEN WHO DID?!!” Angel suddenly shouted back, not even sure what the original point of this conversation was about anymore. “Cause as far as I know you're meant to be a emotionless killing machine! Your emotions were one of the things you lost that day, so how do you have them back?!”

Another long silence entrapped the group, Angel slowly realizing that she had overstepped the boundary, Angel could almost swear she heard whimpering, but couldn’t tell whether that was actually happening or just her imagination making her feel guilty.

“Look. I’m sorry. But you have to face the truth sometime. And as for your question? He wasn’t abducting me, he was looking out for me, so maybe you should find out the real situation before running into battle like you normally do, maybe then you wouldn’t end up in so much perilous situations!“

That was the last thing she said before turning her head away out of Anger and spite, her eyes staring lasers at the wall at the wall as she tried to calm herself down.
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"Who cares if your not the Hero, That's not what's good about you."
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#9
Dust and Dick barely had time to process what was coming out of the girl’s mouth when they heard a voice behind them. “DA389.”

Dust knew that number especially well, from his past. It was tattooed across his neck so everyone knew exactly who they were addressing as well, in big thick bold text. Dick glanced back to see that there were about for troopers waiting for the werewolf prime outside. This conclusion coming because they only addressed the one man. Perhaps they assumed they needed multiple men to contain the tallest Prime of the group. Dick concurred, he did not believe that a mere four would do though.

Hokori slowly turned around and approached the door, having to look down at them. He said nothing in response.

-

The doctor waited patiently until they guards had fully bound the youthful man to the metallic chair which has already been previously bolted to the ground by the largest screws available at the moment. This was done in one of the corners in the interrogation rooms. While the young man appeared to be already impressively strong, it seemed this was his weakest state. It was best to bound him now with all the precautions they would use for a very dangerous Prime.

The good doctor watched as the contractor merely stared back at him with a focus as strong as the last man. He had broken Cad, and he would break this one just as well. However, this Prime didn’t have a hat to latch on to and throw in his face. Instead all he had to go by was what was available on the various media that surrounds this particular Prime.

“Hokori Owari Hoshi.” He said but did not offer any introduction of himself. “Since you seem so eager to start, let’s.” He took a seat at the table that was roughly on the other side of the room, opposite corner.

There were several recording instruments in the room including a camera in the corner that taped Dust being locked into the seat by various means: Locked chains that netted across his strong young muscles, the cold metal rubbing along his mostly exposed flesh; Padlocks on either side of his wrists to keep his noted relaxed arms down; Finally, his legs lifted by a steel foot stool to keep him firmly planted in the chair as well as comfortable through all of this.

Wolf just stared at him longer, in silence. The doctor imagined he was steeling himself for the conversation. “One moment, I am sure I read it somewhere that you prefer the translation of Dust, The Dying Star.”

“Dust.” He grunted from between his clenched jaw, only his chest moving to exhale the breath that was needed for the noise of his voice. It came out like a short bark.

“Dust.” The man repeated, then went to his papers again. “Your debut in Dante’s Abyss was, from my understanding, impressive. Apparently some of even the Emperor’s followers have taken a liking to you. Fans, as they seem. Infatuated with you they all seem to be…” He trailed off, some of the confiscated fan fiction in his hand. He tossed it to the table and looked Vok back in the eye. “Attention like that can be fleeting, but you’re popularity has seem to only grow.”

He was met with silence.

“As I remember, you were friends with Gildarts by the end of the event.”

Dust nodded.

“Last time I heard Gildarts was escorting you about in Vasty Deeps according to a stray report made by one of our female ‘troopers.” He commented, not really looking away this time. “It’s a bit far from Costa del Sol. What’s brought you all this way?”

“Hoseki.” Three syllables.

This word meant nothing to the doctor. Mostly because he didn’t know Japanese. If it were a name he’s never heard it, if it was a place it wasn’t important. “That is why you are prowling about with our resident ‘heros’ and destroying parts of our city?”

He asked, trying to get some kind of reaction from Dust, but it failed.

“The footage shows that you were thrown by the man I spoke with earlier. Cade, Centurion as he liked to call himself. With the orange glowing outfit.” He said, pulling out screen shot of the man who’d been carrying Angel. “This one.” He said, trying to keep Dust’s memory on the even at hand. “Given that you ranked pretty high in Karl’s game I imagine that being thrown through a building by a man half your size can be embarrassing.” He held up another screen shot. Dust’s transformation was in mid punch. They caught it perfectly at the point where Wolf’s jaw left the grey fist that was young man’s suited hand and on his way to some poor guy’s shop. The wolfman’s face twisted upon impact. “Not to mention painful..” The doctor added.

Dust glanced at the pictures but made no reaction.

The interrogator remained silence in hopes he’d get more of a reaction but received none. It would seem he has much more conviction than Cade, more resolve. The doctor had no idea that the contractor before him not only was immune to these tactics due to his nature, but that he’d been treated to much worse than this and trained to resist talking. Lycan, however, was being as cooperative as he thought was needed.

“The building is barely salvageable.. We were lucky no one important was hurt.” The man continued, pulling the papers back and putting them in seemingly random stacks. “You seemed completely unphased as well. If you suffered against anything you don’t show it. I noticed that all the scrapes and bruises you did receive are now gone. You must be resilient to all kinds of damage.”

There was still no response.

“Too bad your records only consist of trouble making and making out with your colleagues, or else there might have been a great deal of use for a Prime like yourself to our cause.” He noted verbally, lifting up more papers and glancing at the contents. “I think we’d be able to excuse all of that given the right information. Maybe you would like to work under a power that isn’t scrambled apart or lead by lunatics…”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Dust responded, eyes still staring him down.

The doctor looked up at that. He was surprised mostly by the fact that the boy could talk, but also that he’d say something responsive. “Do you like working with the insane and rash?”

Ookami returned to the silent treatment.

“Are you aware that they make hasty decisions based on emotions and lack of logic?”

Nothing, though the doctor though he saw a flicker in Dust’s dark red eyes.

Then the man at the desk smiled. “That’s right. From my understanding, you attacked first.”

Still nothing.

The doctor decided that maybe he should return to this one after he’s gotten more information from the other’s. The other girl, the one with blue hair. She may be more useful to talk to sense the bounts of fights managed to center around her. “Perhaps you are just in a spoiled mood because you are hungry.” He said, nodding to the guards. “We should have another conversation after lunch.”

“Does that mean we are done,” Dust asked as the guards adjusted his legs to pull out the stool, freeing his feet for leverage to stand.

“For now.” He admitted.

“Thank you, sir.” Dust said, standing up.

The chair strained and groaned, cried out from the strength of its assailant. The chains which were bolted to the ground also cried out as they snapped right off the tall prime. The locks would have followed suit, but the thin steel flaps they held on to broke first. Everything fell off of the kissing prime like water out of a pool and he stood there boldly. He then turned to the guards, wordlessly asking if they would escort him if they would so kindly. This display of raw power left everyone in the room and the observation room speechless. As the two guards began to take Dust to the chow room, the doctor scribbled some notes.

Ideally the chains were not broken and escape was not made out of respect for our authority. Hokori Hoshi should be watched for candidacy and approached with caution. He is indeed a ‘good boy.’.


-

All of the Avengers navigated the crowded floor that was the mess hall and united as a group in the corner but among several other groups of people. Plenty of prisoners tested the patience of one Marcus by winking and cat calling at Blaire. Another portion dared to challenge both Dust and Cade by whistling at Angel.

It was actually the first time Cade and Dust met face to face, eye to… Well Cade had to look up for the eye to eye. He made a mental note that the werewolf had been especially intimidating on his own, but the man under the fur was just as much. He swallowed his fear though and puffed out his chest just the same. The two fighters stared each other down so intensely that even the world around them noticed the fierce rivalry.

It was a rivalry that calmed crowds and called to the ocean for sweet waves that crashed against cliff sides for atmosphere. It made their comrades nervous and enemies - if any - cheer internally for their blood. It demanded silence, and it was given that silence. Only the echoes of radio messages to superior officers out of fear that something may go down between the two could be heard.

Then at the same time, they fist bumped. Dust’s normal teeth flashing in a friendly smile while Cade’s relief lets him do the same.

They sat down together, Cade clapping him on the bare back like they were already good friends. “Hey man, great fight. Except, did you have to be so rough?”

Dust smirked. “What about you? That was one hell of a punch.”

“If you two are done, we need a plan.” Moon Knight interrupted their good time, letting the sounds of multiple people in a small room suffocate their words so that the only people that can hear is his crew.

“Weren’t you the one that said we should wait for Jarvis.” Asked Angel.

“My recent experience leaves me with the strong impression that we can’t wait that long.” Moon Kight offered but no more.

Cade nodded in agreement. “Same.”

Dust wasn't sure what that meant, but from his own experience he gathered he wasn't the first to go into that room. Especially when he was expected to know Cade by name. He looked around at everyone, wondering who else was subjected to that kind of questioning. It was even only then that he realized he had no idea what they wanted other than wanting to know who they were. But the doctor in that room knew who he was.

He very quickly understood.

“We shouldn’t stir the pot.” Dick mumbled, stirring what he’d been told was soup.

“I don’t like it here,” Marcus growled his body tense.

While staring at his food Dust spoke up this time. “This prison isn’t so bad, but it’s not supposed to be fun.” The mood hadn’t been any more gloomy than when this started, but the ever-smiling Prime now wore a serious look. The people around him shared confused glances at his words, except Angel. And Marcus.

“You don’t think I don’t know!?” Marcus raised his voice. Target acquired.

Blair was quick to try to stop him, grabbing one of his impossibly strong arms. “Marcus do-”

“D324.” The passing guard warned.

Marcus was on the verge of exploding, and everyone but the newest members knew it. That gave Moon Knight his idea. He waited for the room’s noises to reach the appropriate roar. “Okay Team, I have a plan.” He said, tossing his mashed potatoes to the table and beginning to use the spuds as playdough to explain his quickly thought out plan. They would start a riot, then escape in the chaos. It was hastily thought up, hastily explained, and in no doubt would be hastily shut down…


-


“That’s it!” Marcus’s hands slam down on the potatoes which splatter across the faces of his allies before he stands up and just punches Dust flat on the face, knocking him back onto the floor. Blair cries out again in an attempt to stop the angry war machine. Marcus was already climbing over the table, guards were beginning to converge, The Avengers already attempting to pull him off their new friend.

Dust’s feet lifted up as Marcus came down on him, the shoes he’d summoned somewhere on an island as far as he remembered. He didn’t even hesitate as he launched him up in the air. To everyone’s genuine surprise, the terminator was launched high into the air by the contractor; Guards on the catwalks were even stunned as they watched the battered machine lift into the air and then fall into another table and breaking the 30 manned table in rough halves.

Meanwhile Hokori got to his feet and began the stance of his transformation. Angel cried out: “Stop him! He’ll kill ‘em!” Despite knowing Dust couldn’t transform without a kiss. And just like that Centurion and Moon Knight double team to drag the werewolf back to the ground. Their weight combined was enough to throw him forward, right into the tables of more prisoners. The wrong kind of prisoners.

“HEY FUCK HEAD!” One bald and tattooed mean looking man screamed at Cade before trying to take a swing at him. For the sake of the plan, the auburn-haired hero took it. He then returned it, as lightly as he could and blaming his lack of strength on holding down Dust who bucked and struggled all the same.

Very quickly the gangs of men both good, evil, and neutral dog piled on top of Wolf. The entanglement of prisoners and guards left Marcus alone to fight a few stray people before rushing for one of the doors. Blaire was at his side and attempting to help him as they stumbled through hacking the keypad.

Angel and Dick were left both in their seat, stunned. Or at least pretending to be. Something between slamming herself into the forcefield cage and the fight caused her to be paralyzed from the hips down. It wasn’t really a concern at the time, but now she had to watch helplessly as all her favorite men beat the snot out of prisoners and guards alike. Dick had to stand by to pick her up when their escape was evident. While it looked like the three were on the losing side, Angel was feeling confident that this might actually work

In the background as an impressive feat Dust lifted himself from the piles of men and grabbed two at random before snapping their skull together like a high school marching band member clanging symbols together. The sound was less of a high pitched brass chime and a more of a hollow thunk of two skulls cracking together. They fell unconsciously to the side while he began to wade through the other’s. Moon Knight and The Centurion hand branched off themselves and were taking out groups in their own way.
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"Centurion: I'll leave you to your work then Dust. Thanks for chatting!
Me: no problem. stay awesome!
Centurion: It's more of a passive ability"
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#10
Cade's cheek stung only half as much as his pride. As the entire cafeteria devolved into madness, he felt the familiar thrill of adrenaline pump its way into his veins. The rest of the violence dissolved into the background, Cade's vision narrowing. The bald man in front of him became the only problem for the few seconds he was left standing. The man had struck Cade with poor form, relying on his size and weight to carry his shoddy stance and weak follow through. He had fought before, but not like Cade had. The man had broadcasted his first punch, much like he was broadcasting this second one. A hook, aggressive but loose. It was the wild swing of an untrained convict, kind of undisciplined swipe you would expect on the street. Cade easily leaned away, weight on his back foot, and let the fist sail by harmlessly. Then, like a coiled spring, the hero did his old mentor proud. He exploded forward, momentum carried through his leg, up his pivoting hip, and into his clenched right fist. Cade's knuckles slammed into the bald man's jaw, a distinct crackle of surrender noting the criminal's near instantaneous loss of consciousness. The young man followed through, just as he was trained, ending the punch with the same grace and control as he had started and not once dropping his guard. Everything moved slow as the first precursors of adrenaline made their full rounds and the hero's body adapted to his heightened state. This included the bald convict, who seemingly melted to the floor. The instant the arrogant skinhead hit the ground, the rest of the world came roaring back to Cade. Shouts, curses, and the crackling of electric batons accosted his ears, a terrifying cacophony of violence. He'd seen worse.

  He absorbed the most important aspects of the battle: Dust tearing through men half his size a few tables away, Moon Knight leaping madly into a swarm that any sane person would take as too large to fight, Marcus ramming into a pair of rather angry thugs, and Dick keeping himself between the raging brawl and Angel. Cade had to respect the older hero's resolve, keeping himself in such an important position. It wasn't until now that Cade had realized how much danger he was really putting Angel in. He had half a mind to fight his way to her, if only to apologize for what was happening, but it registered in a flash of red and searing agony that he had more pressing matters to attend to. Cade screamed hoarsely, more a growl of anger at not paying attention than real pain, and stumbled into a table. Hot pain shot along his spine, emanating from a single point on his lower back and agitating the yet raw furrows dug into his body by Dust in their previous encounter.

  The buzzing vibrato of a filtered voice shouted threateningly for Cade to drop and surrender. Stormtrooper. Better yet: something worth hitting. Cade spun around to face the armored guard. The man gripped his shock baton tightly, the weapon lifted at the ready. Cade dove forward, snarling through the harsh burning along his back, and tackled the Trooper. Using his shoulder as leverage, Cade aimed for the man's diaphragm. A satisfying "Ooof" told the hero he had done something right as the guard's breath was knocked from his lungs. Gasping, the trooper tried to jab Cade with the baton, but the young man slammed down the hand holding it. His weight distributed across the writhing Trooper, Cade focused on prying free the baton. The soldier's grip was unbreakable, fueled by anger and fear. Aggravated, Cade lifted his fist, ready to slam it down onto the Stormtrooper's faceplate. Suddenly, he felt his body lift up from the ground, ribs barely holding together, as he was blindsided by another guard. Cade slammed into the hard cafeteria floor, his vision blurring as the back of his skull cracked the concrete. 

  Feet stomped too near his head for Cade's comfort as the riot continued to rage around him. The trooper who had rammed him pressed his cold, plastoid forearm onto the prisoner's throat, cutting off his air flow. Cade clawed at the forearm, really wishing his Apparatus would listen to him. The discordant sounds of violence started to fade into obscurity and the world became dull. The edge's of Cade's vision began to fade into black as he gasped for what oxygen could press past the Stormtrooper's weight. In his thrashings, Cade felt his leg press against something attached to the trooper's leg. Hope flooded the boy with strength and he reached down, grabbing what he knew to be a shock baton. With a tug, it dethatched from the Trooper's thigh-plate easily. He felt the urge to say something clever, but he could wait until after breathing was no longer pay-to-play. He stabbed the baton into the Stomtrooper's armpit, in the gap between his breastplate and bicep armor. With a flick of the switch, Cade felt the Trooper's body tense up, feedback and tense cries signaling the success of his attack. The young man shoved the trooper away, the sudden release on his throat and the rush of oxygen to his brain likely the most amazing thing he had ever felt. With a gasp, Cade rolled off of his back and onto his hands and knees. Someone crashed into the table beside him, Marcus' foul mouth giving away the culprit. The young hero trusted the Terminator to handle his target, but if he was gonna be part of this team it was time to act like it. Cade stood up, still savoring the taste of fresh air, and threw the baton to his companion.

"MARCUS! CATCH!"

  The Terminator's hand snapped out on command, catching the baton and ramming it's business end into the neck of his opponent. The man the Terminator was tangling with spasmed and dropped with a whimper. The two soldiers locked eyes, Cade's thrill and passion offset appropriately by Marcus' anger and intensity. Nonetheless, there was a moment of understanding and the two launched back into the fight. Cade threw a hard elbow into a man's temple, then ducked under a wild swing of a food tray. He countered with a hard uppercut and a loud "HA!" as his excitement got the better of him. The now recognizable crackle/shout combo sounding out from behind him told Cade that Marcus was making quick work of his own opponents. Cade parried another lazy and unfocused punch, spinning the man around and locking his arm around the convict's throat. He squeezed, cutting off the man's airflow.

"I know brah. It sucks. Just let it happen." The man kicked and bucked for a minute, but eventually succumbed to the quiet song of unconsciousness.


  Cade dropped the man and snapped his head around for the others. Dust was still handling it all with uncanny ease, but the savage nature of his combat was bleeding through the controlled exterior. Marc was almost definitely insane, swinging madly as he was dragged back by a mass of Troopers. Cade took a hasty step, ready to run to Moon Knight's aid, when he heard Angel scream. His head snapped around and he caught sight of Dick grappling a massive brute. Other men were accosting the older hero, challenging his wit and reflexes as he dodged and countered. However, that left Angel unprotected. Whether it be adrenaline or fear, she had found her way out of her chair with wobbly legs. Despite an unsteady gait, the girl clambered over a table and kicked food and trays into the faces of a pair of Troopers. They reached out for her, potatoes and greens splattered on their white armor. Cade felt his nose scrunch up in a snarl, his attention switching between Angel and Marc. Then he remembered: team. How could he forget how well he melded with his family back home. He had to trust. Cade turned away from Marcus' writhing mass of limbs and sprinted for Angel. As he ran past Marcus, he shouted and slammed his shoulder into a prisoner that made the foolish mistake of getting in his way.


"Marcus! Get to Moon Knight!" The Terminator snapped his head around at the callout and refocused his progress.


  Cade pushed through the dense ocean of bodies, many unconscious, and fought towards Angel. He saw her jump to another table, the Troopers scrambling to keep up. Cade couldn't help but smirk. He joined her on the tables, using them to make his progress. He leaped over the heads of convicts and guards brawling madly on the cafeteria floor. Food was everywhere, making for what could have been a hilarious spectacle were the stakes and circumstances not so serious. Angel was just a few more tables away, and Cade leaped to his next destination. Then, he felt something yank on his ankle and drag him back down. With a shout, Cade collapsed onto the bodies of semi-conscious criminals. The skinhead from earlier, bloody teeth bared in a mad grin and his jaw tilted unnaturally to the side, pulled harder on his leg. Cade growled, using the heel of his other foot to ram into the man's fingers. The bald prisoner lost his grip, yelping, and Cade hopped to his feet. He didn't have time for this. The young man stalked briskly towards the skinhead, fists clenched. The man and his bloody teeth smiled and he lifted his hands for a fight.

"Ha! Round two motherfu-" Cade didn't skip a beat, doing with his left what he had done mere minutes ago with his right. The man dropped mid-sentence, body limp, and joined his lawless comrades on the ground.


  Obstacle removed, Cade was able to refocus on what was important. He turned back to where Angel was kicking at the guards from on top of yet another cafeteria table, Dick not far behind still struggling against the absolute mass of criminals. The older hero spun away from the crowd, tripping up one of the clumsier members, and backed up for a breath. In that instant he caught sight of Cade. A glimmer of recognition flashed in Howland's gaze and he glanced at Angel. Cade nodded, understanding, and Dick readied himself for the next onslaught of rioters. The young man sprinted for Angel, screaming at the Troopers to leave her alone. One of the guards turned, baton in hand, and pointed with it.

"Stop right there! Surrender and return to your cell!"

  Cade didn't stop. He kept running, sweeping a tray off of a passing table. The Trooper repeated his order, following it up with "Final warning!" like that was scarier or something. Cade let his body flow, following the step of his left foot with the twist of his hips. He slammed the metal food tray into the side of the Stormtrooper's helmet, eliciting a sharp crack and a cry of pain. He heard Angel squeal again, and Cade snapped his head around to see the Troopers finally grabbing hold of her legs and dragging her down from the table. Cade dropped the now dented tray and ran towards her. He grabbed one of the Troopers and tore him away, tossing the guard to the ground. He punched another, his form deteriorating from fatigue, and felt two more guards grab his arms. Cade struggled like a wild animal, a harsh twist allowing him to use one of the men holding him as a battering ram against another. 

"GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HER!" Cade flipped the other Trooper over his shoulder, grunting from the effort, and slammed him down. 

  The young man stumbled back, motioning for Angel to hide behind him, and watched as a half-dozen Stormtroopers of varying wooziness gathered in front of him. He reached out, into his soul, searching for that old familiar heat. He could feel it, so close, fighting to reach him as well. The apparatus hummed with expectation, desperate to be called upon. Cade flexed his hands, desperate for the nano-machines to encase his skin in fine mesh and silver plating. It didn't oblige. Driven away by the Inhibitor Disc the armor retreated back into the recesses of Cade's mind, almost as angry as he was. Cade glanced back at Angel, the blue-haired girl obviously scared and smeared with potatoes. He locked the image of her face in his mind; A small scrape on her cheek and bruise on her chin told him she had not had an easy time running. That was what he would protect. Cade lifted his hands, spreading his legs to shoulder-width and leaning forward ever so slightly. Perfect form. Janus would be proud. The Troopers closed in, the riot behind them a forgotten mass of flesh and rancor. Cade trusted Marcus to get to Moon Knight, he had no doubt Dust was kicking ass, and there was an unspoken respect for and confidence that Dick was not having as much trouble as one would assume. For now, he had to focus. He had a damsel in distress to save.
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#11
Moon Knight spat out blood from his mouth, wincing at the pain of recently being punched. Slowly he raised his fists close to his face keeping a tight boxers stance, his body was ready for the violence to follow, his mind cleared for pure and brutal combat, and his soul plagued by Khonshu was filled with the rage of madness. All around him the entire cafeteria was a boiling pot of brawling and thanks to the Avengers planning perhaps at the right moment they could slip out of the prison. Marc’s eyes narrowed to his close surroundings. His face grew into a sneer as imperial stormtroopers with stun batons at the ready closed in on the Avenger.  

“Alright, moon man lets see what you really got.” One of the troopers said waving his baton as they began to make their collective move. 

“I’d gladly show you first hand,” Spector said gritting his teeth.

Like a literal human bullet, he lunged in grabbing the guard’s arm holding the baton. With a quick heave Marc landed his knee into the trooper’s armor-plated stomach giving a slight grunt and like second nature the hero yanked the offender’s arm over his shoulder snapping the guard’s elbow breaking it in the process.   

“Advanced military training, boxing, and a few other-” 

Spector shouted at the top of his lungs as a guard laid a hit with their stun baton. With both arms reaching out for anything to grab to make the pain go away he pushed with all his strength trying not to collapse to the floor. It was a lucky hit. Small voltages of electricity coursed through his body causing every muscle to ache and burn making him pray to Khonshu to make the pain go away. For the short Brief moment the pain lasted, it came close to putting the Moon Knight out. Without taking time to recover Spector reacted through pure reaction. Flipping to his left at the same time lifting his leg, Marc landed a precise and yet powerful kick into his assaulter's helmet. The force of the blow cracking the guard’s helmet into pieces causing him to come crashing to the tiled floor of the cafeteria in a spasming fit. 



There are too many of them, perhaps a new tactic would be best.

You think?!

I mean there are two of us in this bod- Incoming Marcus! 

Rolling out the way, Marcus charged in for the stormtroopers. Anyone from a mile away could feel his anger. The Avengers knew that he used to be a former convict but what level does it have to be to purely hate anything remotely close to confined space? Rushing in the Terminator slammed his stun baton, he had acquired earlier from Cade into the chest of an unsuspecting guard sending volts of electricity in their body. Shouting as loud as he ever could Marcus then tossed his baton and lifted them into the air with both his android hands using the trooper as an armored human battering ram. With a now familiar set of raw strength, Wright smashed and bashed the last of stormtroopers out of the way before throwing his human weapon away. 
“Cade… Cade thought you could use the help. You don’t understand how satisfying it was to do that.” Marcus said taking the time he bought to get a breather, the Stormtroopers he had beaten down moaned in agonizing pain.          

“Actually I do,” Marc replied taking a moment to gather himself as well. “Do you think you handle yourself for a bit?” 

Marcus shot a smirk getting himself back into a fighting stance. 

“Yeah definitely, I know for a fact the guy can handle things but Dust might need some backup.” The Terminator said picking up another stun baton. "I'll be close doing what I do best. Staying angry."

Spector gave a nod in response taking the queue to do what needed to be done, to be the leader. Quickly turning Spector leaped onto a nearby table and darted knocking food and trays left and right as he made his way for the team’s local werewolf.

“Dust!” He shouted lunging off the table landing a hard dropkick into the face of a convict. Dust shot back his right arm wrapped around the head of a criminal while his left proceeded to beat their face in.   

“Marcus insisted you use some help,” Marc said landing a series of powerful punches into a charging criminal’s torso and head.

“Uh… Roger?” The Wolfman replied tossing the criminal in his arms aside.

"Yeah, he said he said you were probably handling yourself fine but besides that point remember the plan, we're the ones the Empire wants to be focused on."

"Uh... I don't think I need help doing that. But sure."

“Good.” The Night Protector replied holding his ground as more convicts came pouring out after the two Avengers. 

Rushing out of the thick out of the fighting the large Novan Furtumin dashed out in front of Marc and Dust. Swiftly the alien landed a solid right hook into the face of a nearby crook knocking them to the ground. Turning to another thug he wrapped his entire right arm under the convict’s legs lifting him over his back and then swiftly crashed the criminal out to the previous one laying on the ground.

“The Hell was that!?” Dust chimed seeming surprised by the Novan warrior. 

“Ratione.” Spector retorted. 
Turning to his comrades Ratione made his way towards him. 

“Sorry I’m late-” His words were cut off by an explosion that rocked the entire room.   

Marc cursed turning his gaze to the main entrance to the mess hall. Guards carrying with seemed to be a form of electro staff came charging in carving a path through several prisoners. Trooper in more heavy armor coming marching in as well firing smoke and tear gas bombs in all directions. Those troopers were then followed by larger ones, these being encased in black armor with some sort of sword attached to their right arms while a shield attached to the other. 

“That seems to be the guard's reinforcements.” Marc shot back at Dust uppercutting an incoming thug. 

“Looks to me, I guess this is part of the plan where it’s just me and you versus these guys.” Dust replied back handling two of his own criminals. 

“Correct, Ratione meet up with the other team members are alright. This is the part where everything gets worse.” 

Giving a nod to his leader the Novan darted out back into the crowd of fighting in search of the others. 

Physically and mentally preparing himself Marc prayed to Khonshu for all strength he could muster. Turing to what would most likely be his enemy due to being a werewolf and being a werewolf hunter. He gave a slight smirk and clenched his fists.  

“Dust, let's get violent.”   

-

Warden Elis scowled under his armor's mask as he paced back and forth the middle of the mess hall. He quietly observed the mess made by the prison fight turned riot. Painful yet impressive it was to see his eyes narrowed as he watched his men sweep up their fallen soldiers and several broken phase one Dark Troopers. Finally, his scornful gaze met the medical troopers as they carried the unconscious body of prisoner D773F out of the mess hall. Elis gave a low sigh as he turned to face the remaining prisoners grouped up together and forced to sit on their knees. Stormtroopers kept their aim at them practically begging for one to rebel especially an Avenger.

"Dissidents, Criminals, and vigilantes," Elis said coming halt in front of the fights ringleaders. 

Marc and Dust were held out from the group and set in front of all the prisoners. Two guards held up Marc up to his knee as a third guard continuously beat at him. Dust, on the other hand, was held by a form of rod and leash. Two riot guards stood at each side providing him with their electro staves at each second they could, making sure that he was awake for each second of the electrical torture. 

Slowly the Warden turned from the two men facing the rest of the prisoners his right hand gesturing back to the two men. 

"Let this be a warning to those who cause trouble." He said taking a moment for all the prisoners to soak up the example given to them. "Take the ringleaders to solitary confinement and the rest of the prisoners back to their cells if any of them causes trouble blast them."
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#12
Marcus pushed his way in between the crowd of prisoners, trying to see what was happening between the other Avengers. Blair, not content in being left alone in a bunch of male prisoners, followed her way up and strong armed her way through a group of orange snap down jumpsuits.

There was two things that crossed Marcus’ mind, what would happen to the others and what would happen to him and Blair.  

After the two finally made their ways to the front of the crowd, Marcus physically restrained himself from lashing out as a stormtrooper threatened him with a stun baton. They responded with a thick threat. He wasn’t one for bowing to any form of Coruscant guards, even if they tried to pull him back into kneeling position.

Blair knew not to push the terminator when he got pissed but she too was angry, but was helpless to do much as a stormtrooper was forcing her back to their cell.

Marcus gritted his teeth and simply growled seeing Dust shocked a lot, MK getting beat up for what they did, and Centurion getting dragged away from the scene.

He wanted to do something but held back in fear he’d end up the same way as them. What scared him here? Why did he feel fear at this time? Curse human emotions sometimes.

“DAMN YOU, guards.”

It was until he heard the words “ Solitary Confinement for MK and Dust” as they were dragged off to different cells.

Marcus growled as he was constantly forced to bow at the feet at a group of stormtroopers trying to keep him down “NO! THEY DIDN’T DO…  He slumped at that point, a point of giving up temporarily due to his hidden feelings.

“STAY DOWN!”

“NO! Fuck you guards, the Avengers will fight- back”

“NO!~”

Blair’s eyes lit up with worry “Don’t you DARE give up, Marcus.”

“We’ll get out of th-”

“PRISONER SHUT IT.”

She was interrupted by a stormtrooper laughing in her face.
“Or what, you’ll kiss us to death?

Blair was grabbed by her hair by one of the taller male stormtroopers “I don’t give a fuck what you have to say, secondary. You’re nothing here.”

Marcus was quickly deciding between that tiny devil and Angel on his shoulder rather to rip that stormtrooper an new one and risk torture or get tortured anyway and be good.


-

The transfer was about as uncomfortable for the terminator as it was for Blair as some of the male prisoners tried to make cat calls to the only one of two female left to stare at some of their ugly mugs.

Blair muttered “Fuck off, boys.”

They tried again “If we weren’t-

Marcus eyed the man trying to flirt at Blair with angry eyes enough to burn flames into someone’s own heart.

The glare was scary enough to make the stormtrooper grab ahold of Marcus and the man and pull them away to seperate sides.

“Prisoner 733A, Prisoner 7215Z, break it up.”

Blair “casually” stepped on the man’s foot..hard as the stormtrooper frowned casually “Come.”

She eyed Marcus with a smirk, looking back with a ire look and shrugged as she laughed off how the man couldn’t get her back.

After both of them were pushed through the hallways, Marcus was ever silent as Blair turned “Silent, huh, Marcus?”

Then the stormtroopers dumped them into the cell.

The cells were grey, boring and ready to hold a terminator and his girlfriend  as ever as there was a guard stationed in front of Marcus and Blair’s cell, holding a gun, ready to shoot to kill if something happened.

Awkwardness was the name of it all, favoring the Stormtrooper holding a blaster in front of them, most likely taunting the two prisoners.

“Go ahead, try me. I won’t hesitate to blast you two dead.”

Blair crossed her arms as she stared over at the guard, looking clearly bored sitting in front of their cell.

“So, Bob, you enjoy staring at two people who could easily scare the crap out of you?”

“What do you mean?”

“MARCUS!”

“Blair!”

“Bob”’s annoying me, do something for me, would you?

“What, Blair.”

“Tell him to fuck of-

“You know I can’t do that”

-

The terminator said nothing as he stared at what seemed like the walls were closing in on the man. Not only did the walls scream dingy, dirty and loss of freedom to the outside walls but his thoughts were only on that one grey wall, preventing him from the outside city of Coruscant.

When he left the feeling of a cell the first time, he thought he’d stay dead. Here being a prime in this toybox known as the Omniverse, has made the gears grind in the terminator’s mind. Not only is death not permanent here, he’d torture himself watching the rest of the Avengers eventually die away and die again. leaving him here alone in his own immortality.

He’d found that out when he had died the second time in a survival event named Dante’s Abyss. Sounding just like it’s name, his own true hell was waking up, staring at the same lands that plagued him.

Hey… Marcus? Marcus.. What’s up?”

Marcus was snapped out of his own self-loathing by Blair’s warm hand on his metal skin.

“Oh, just thoughts.”

Blair sat next to him on the cot “Hey, you can tell me”

Marcus turned looking at Bob the Stormtrooper, I don’t think we can have a private conversation even with him looking over at us.”

Blair bent in serious, whispering into the terminator’s mechanical ears “Hey, Come on. You know i’m here for you.”

Marcus kept a firm eye on the guard holding the gun up front of him and turned back to holding Blair in his arms. Lowering his gritty voice down was tricky but he did it “It’s about Immortality and a paradox.”

Blair kissed him on the cheek “A paradox, immortality? All part of the human condition, Marcus.”

Marcus’s slow smile turned right into a frown “But I’m not human, Blair.”

The Resistance pilot and pilot for the Avengers placed her hands on his lips “Shh.. Come on Marcus, quiet yourself and do what you do best.”

Marcus frowned “But what if you-

Blair kissed him, trying to push back past his feelings.

“I won’t die.. Promise..”

“AHEM!”

Without warning, there was a breaking up of the cute love scene in the cage.

Marcus and Blair stopped mid sentence in mid kiss and immediately stood to action

“Don’t try to resist.”

The cell was been broken into two.
Two of the basic white plastic stormtroopers grabbed a furious Marcus, as he wouldn’t go down without a fight.

“MARCUS!”

Blair furiously tried to pull away from the stormtrooper trying to pull her toward another cell.

“Let… ME… GO!”

The Stormtrooper pushed her away down another hallway.

Marcus was truly alone, right here and now.

Nothing angered the cyborg more than his girl being ripped away from him but the struggle had Marcus almost choking a stormtrooper before the strong armed terminator was shocked by a stun baton and made to fall on the ground.

He was knocked out for the time.

Bob looked at Caer and shrugged “Finally, what the hell took you guys so long.”

“I’m telling you these Avengers are nothing but trouble in here.”

Caer shook his head, dragging an unconscious Marcus toward a room much like Centurion’s.
[Image: marcus%20wright%20sig.png]

[Image: ytLTikp.png?1]
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#13
Koal felt the pain in his body flare with each labored beat of his tainted and damaged heart. And the fact that he was bound and chained did not make the situation any better. The APC he was in was hard and uncomfortable, all sharp angles and designed with nothing but functionality in mind. Cold and efficient, and if Koal wasn't busy trying to keep from passing out from pain he would have likely been busy admiring the design. And yet, there he was, cold and in pain, and being started down by half a dozen stormtroopers. White plastoid plates covering a black second-skin. Unmoving and focused on him like a wolf on injured prey, the Demon's eyes blazed with defiance, swirling and shifting between red and violet at random as his powers returned and then were drained by the energy field keeping him in place. Oddly aware of himself and his surroundings Koal could feel the hum of the engines, and the roar of wind turbulence outside the few inches of steel that separated him from a thousand-foot free fall. All those factors weighing in, along with the emotionless mask that the man staring at him wore, Koal lost it. 

"JUST SAY SOMETHING, DAMNIT!" His voice tore through the ship, loud and angry, and the stormtroopers, moving in unison, had their blasters all trained on his head in an instant, waiting for anything to happen.  

"If you want me dead, why don-" 

"Troopers, stand down. He won't be getting out of those binding for a while yet." A new voice rang out, oddly familiar to Koal, and even as the airlock to the upper sections of the ship open with a hiss of pressurized air. Moving in unison, the Stormtroopers filed in lines until they formed a sort of corridor with their bodies. An older man, dressed in an immaculately tailored uniform, walked in with the confidence of someone completely in control. His face was might have been handsome in his younger years, but Koal could tell through the haze of pain that the passage of time had been especially cruel to him. Withered yellow skin hung loosely on a slight frame, his nose cruel and hooked, his eyes little more than yellow orbs in shaded sockets.  

"Who-" 

"Be silent and listen." His voice certainly did not match up to the man, alto tones ringing strong and authoritative.  

"Who the hel-" 

"I SAID be silent, prisoner." Koal felt his head snap to the side, pain in his head flaring up as the man withdrew his hand, his rotten eyes flaring with anger at the impudence of the soul before him. Koal gave a weak snarl in response, blood pooling in his mouth, thick and metallic. But he didn't try to speak again. 

"Hm. Good. Now, I have come to inform you of your crimes and formally levy judgment." He withdrew a small data-pad from his uniform, the screen coming to life at his touch. Koal saw a few vague pictures from his end, but they were indistinguishable.  

"Koal Lynch, under the authority of his Imperial Majesty, you are hereby charged with terrorism, murder, assault, and endangerment of the citizens of this great empire." He paused and took a breath before continuing. "Under direct orders from my superiors, you are denied the right to a trial as you are too much of a risk. You are to be transferred to a correction facility in which we WILL curb that violent nature of yours. And when your debt to society has been repaid, you will be released. 

"Normally, this would be the chance to plead your case, but in this instance, I don't think anyone here gives a damn what a raging animal like yourself has to say." The officer pivoted on a heel and began to pace out of the doorway once more, flanked by his Stormtroopers. 

"WAIT." 

"I don’t have time for your-" 

"Cheshire. What happened to her?" 

"You mean the fiery little girl we found with you? She was killed shortly after we brought you into custody. She knew what she did. Didn't even fight for her life. She just accepted it. Goodbye, Mr. Lynch." 

Koal barely registered anything after that. His blood was pulsing streams of ice, and his mind a raging whirlwind of pain and regret. She was gone. As quickly as she had appeared in his life, she was gone. A source of warmth he had allowed to wriggle into his life had been extinguished. All because of him. Some demon who pathetically clung to some semblance of his human life, grasping at wisps of humanity even as he gave in to his demonic instincts. The ice in his veins quickly became hot and boiling, even as he felt the ship decent into lower latitudes and reduce its speed. He didn't move, his eyes fixed on nothing. The haze of shock poorly disguised the rage he felt.  

You will be avenged. Even knowing you for as little time as I did, you were important to me. A treasure to be cherished. And because of me, you will never again know what it is to be alive. I swear on everything I once was to live up to what you thought I could be. I'm so sorry.

He didn't say anything, even as he was picked up and drug out of the ship, into open air for the first time. It was a very large complex, several square miles big, lines with every fail-safe in case of a breakout. Not that Koal cared anyway. If he really wanted out, he could just kill himself, right? He'd come back to life anyways.  

"Name." 

"Koal Lynch." 

"Age." 

"Twenty-two." 

Koal was processed in a relatively normal fashion, without any hitches. Stripped of his normal clothes, he was given an orange jumpsuit, like the ones you might see on television shows. They strapped inhibitor cuffs on him, as well as a collar and muzzle for good measure. They paraded him through the prison, as they would any other prison, inmates hooting and yelling as they saw him walk past. None of them knew him, of course, but it was a distraction for most of them. They walked into a large, dome-shaped room that was lined along the walls with cells, each of the holding different convicts. Koal didn't look at any of them. He didn't show any emotion, not even bothering to blink, until he was marched to a glowing orange energy field and thrown inside the cell. Listening to their echoing footsteps, Koal lay on the cold floor, waiting until he couldn't hear them anymore. Giving in to his weakness, Koal wept. For himself, and all he wanted to be. For Cheshire, who had died because of him.  

And how he didn't deserve her, for his sins were heavy, and she had been crushed underneath their weight. He could still see her smile, lighting up whenever he looked her way. The way she looked at him... No one had ever looked at him like that before. And now... no on ever would. He curled in on himself tighter and tighter, desperately hoping he was dreaming, that this nightmare wasn't real. Koal hoped that he when he closed his eyes, he would never open them again.

Day passed, and as the light outside the prison dulled to nothing, darkness found a home within him.
“For the words of a vow are sacred not only among men and the angels, but among the demons as well.” 

― Howard Schwartz
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#14
Ratione had three pairs of hands on him when everything finally began to settle. A short zip sound and his hands were bound by plastic. Around him lay the aftermath of his own resistance, three or five unconcious or injured guards along with around a dozen or so inmates with broken bones, bashed in noses, and cradled groins. Nothing had been off limits to the Novan.

The old man was dragged forward to a squad leader in full riot gear, who inspected the alien inquisitively. "Hell kinda alien are you? Never seen your species around here."

"Neither have I. I feel I am the first of my kind to represent our race in this 'Omniverse'."

"Ooohhh-ho-ho-ho.... The doc's gonna love you!" The squad leader loomed over the old man. He barked at his subbordinates, "Get prisoner 9232A back to his cell unharmed!" He extended a stiff arm and pointer finger at them. "Knock his ass out though."

Ratione gave a bloody grin, tooth missing. A guard stepped behind him, raising their stun baton over his head.

***

"Prrr....ssssuhhhh.....rrrrrr...." Ratione was swimming in blackness, black tides and black waves. An endless black ocean that he was just starting to surface on. He rose from the depths, kicking and paddling his limbs as hard as he could, face blue, coughing out bubbles of air. When his eyes, nose, and mouth hit the moving glass ceiling, his perspective came back to reality.

He was slouched forward, seeing both his hands bound by metal cuffs on the arms of a metal chair that dug into his buttocks and thighs. Slowly he lifted his head to see an older human with a clean-shaven face, green eyes, a lab coat, and the sickliest smirk the Novan had ever laid eyes on.

"Hello, Prisoner 9232A. I am Doctor Walters."

"Hello homin Walters." Ratione's voice was slow, gravelly, exhausted.

"Oooooh-hoo-hoo!" The wiry, thin man kept his wrists glued together in as he rapidly slapped his palms.

The Novan simply grinned, dark bags under his eyes. The old man leaned back in his seat, spine and joints popping as he did so, twisting his own neck to each side to relieve even more knots.

"Tell me," the Docotor slapped down a pen and pad of paper, as well as a small black box with buttons and small screen. "Do you know what this is?" A finger was erected to the device.

"No clue."

"This is a digital voice recorder!"

"Funny, ours use tapes."

"Ooohhh, I see!" This fact was scribbled down, led scratching against paper. "Tell me, from what few intel we have on the 'Avengers', we have noticed that you prefer swords..."

There was a loud clacking and sliding sound as a deadbolt was released and moved, and the door whined as it raised into the sealing. Ratione raised an eyebrow. A guard with thick riot armor stepped inside with a Novan greatsword, and the door slid shut behind.

"Could you elaborate?"

"We don't have boomsticks."

The doctor paused. He took a moment to sigh and ask, "Boomstick?"

"Rifle. Gun. Firearm. As you call them. More recently I've heard 'blaster' used a lot."

"You... don't have guns?" Walters flipped through some memos on a holographic tablet and arranged them in front of the Novan's face. Reports of a power-armored soldier in Camelot, the Nexus, and at the entrance of the Vasty Deeps. Several photographs of pieces of Furtumin armor laying in the sand came up. "Yet you have advanced power armor that can send you over thirty feet into the air and tear straight through a moving vehicle."

"We do not possess many, if at all the same technological wonders your people do, apparently." The old man sighed, "It seems that my people have a run for their money. It's inferior tech, I would just get rid of-"

"Do not think me a fool, Ratione." The doctor's gaze went cold and neutral, and he put his finger tips together as he leaned back. "We found your 'battery'."

A bead of sweat rolled down the Novan's temple.

"We found no advanced circuitry, only stuff you'd see in a 1950s radio, pipes, pneumatics, hydraulics, basic switches, basic voice communications, a basic computer in your helm with yet a surprisingly advanced AI." The doctor leaned forward, "When we finally managed to power it all on, what do you think we had to use?"

The Furtumin's mouth hung open a little, his eyelids beginning to stretch back.

"Raw, pure, magical energy." Walters grinned. Ratione found himself expressionless.

"Ex...cuse me?"

"Though, I can tell your primitive race never made the connection." Walters slouched into his seat, throwing one leg over the other and leaning his cheek on his fist. "A raw, plentiful, bountiful energy source that was not only powerful but allowed you to basically skip quite a few stages in your civilization's history." He swiped his hand to the left to reveal video footage of some kind of laboratory, with men in robes putting their hands on Ratione's energy battery. After a few minutes of silence, the device suddenly whirred to life, and the men fell back exhausted. "A magnetic field to contain the raw magical energy inside thick glass. The glass can handle the corrosive nature better than metal, but the field-" he pointed to two rapidly spinning magnets on either end of the battery's interior, "is what really keeps it all inside. Highly volatile, but extremely effecient. I wager this explains how you got into orbit in the first place, just opening up one of these with a controlled aperature could rocket you anywhere you needed to go."

Ratione was silent, eyes wider than a full moon, teeth grinding. No...nonononononono....

"All we need is a few wizards with a bit more endurance to keep them going perpetually, minus of course mantainence and all that,-" Walters chuckled, "No wonder we have struggled for so long with space travel. We were looking in the complete wrong direction! By reverse-engineering this, we could develop energy resources thrice as effecient, clean, and long-lasting as any currently available technology."

The Novan suddenly sat up, jerking forward and being caught by his chains, arms stretching backward as his muscles spasmed to push as far forward into the damned man's face. His eyes bulged and his teeth barred, his voice choking.

"Thank you, Ratione,

For giving the Empire victory."
"Our fear is our weapon."
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#15
As he watched his superior being beaten to a pulp with the rest of the Avengers and a few specifically pulled aside prisoner’s, there was something flickering in the eyes of the contractor’s eyes that has never crossed his mind before. This was not the lightening dancing around the stun batons that int turn convulsed throughout his body, but the raging fires of defiance in a young man’s heart. He felt angry at them for laying their fingers on anyone, and with some calculated thought it was great they were using him and Moon Knight as the poster boys for this, because he didn’t think he could sit by with a straight gritting face had they pulled Angel out instead.

“Come on Champ, get to yer feet.” One of them sneered through their helmets before forcing Dust to his feet. Almost immediately they regretted it as the large prime’s shadow washes over them. There was a growl on the tip of his tongue as well, but the trooper has to swallow his fear and shove the wolf-man along. “Go on, ya heard the man.”

Bowing his head so that the locks of maroon fall around him like a curtain of defeat, Dust slowly makes the way as he was direct with a rough push, kick, or prodding of the electro-lance. He hissed at the most painful jabs but kept his pained cries in.

He’d been the top dog in the fight for most of it. Dawn’s mark on his cheek has finally faded and left space for the next few marks made. Between inmates and guards, he was covered in dark deep purple and yellow bruises, red marks where natural weapons like teeth and nails had been used, and fresh marks of brutal force scattered across his skin like changing leaves in the fall.

In front of them, they dragged the white-jacket hero, Moon Knight. While it wasn’t a straight jacket that bound him, it would be fitting for the insane and half-conscious man. He’d been bluntly used as a punching back. Dust wasn’t sure, but he was almost sure they’d fractured or even cracked his ribs or jaw, maybe both.

Marc had gone limp in their arms, either their abuse has tired him out for the evening, or he’d thought it was best to just roll over for now while they regrouped and replanned. Dust was not sure which one but did not plan to assume anything about him.

As they were taken through the cells, as if on parade for the other’s, there was a mixed reaction. Most of the steps the large prime took could be heard slapping the bare floor because it was so quiet. Glares or grins greeted his curious eyes. Some even yelled from above, calling him and Moon Knight several choice words in a snarky accent; These were all shorter than the inmates probably wanted as the guards posted on the levels would silence them with their own jabs of a baton or shocked by some other means. These caused some to cry out, which made Dust wince back as he is reminded of the pain he’d experienced.

“Move along!” The trooper demanded and hit him along the shoulders with his own shock baton, making even the mighty Dust stumble momentarily before he stepped back into place.

-

They arrived out in the middle of nearly nowhere. Several small little buildings were lined up in two rows. They looked no bigger than those Johnny-On-The-Spots you see at the fairgrounds, tucked away from the rides and food so no one smells it while trying to enjoy themselves. They also were made of dark metal instead of the memorable bright blue plastic at the amusement parks.

These were at the end of the prison’s property, where whatever artificial sun would burn down on the boxes and make the unfortunate uncomfortably hot. It was nearing the end of this day, but Dust was fully aware of what his experience was going to be like in one of these. His soul sunk a little lower in his body.

They ripped open two random doors, one of which was fully empty and ready for one of them. The other one had been occupied. The body that fell out of the box was not only stiff from igor mortis but covered in wrinkles from loss of hydration. The body had mangled dirty black hair, full dried out beard, elongated finger nails, and a permanent face of agony frozen on his withering face. The troopers accompanying them on this journey laughed at the body and then while two of them dragged it out the others looked his way.

“Since yer comrade is out, we’ll let you pick which one you want.” His commanding guard jested, then nodded towards the boxes.

With his overwhelming power, the contractor prime had been cursed with enhanced senses. None stronger than his sense of smell. He’s always had it, but only now was he able to complain freely. The stench of death clouded the one on the left, but he didn’t like the smell of the other one where he thought he even saw a pile of the last occupant’s feces in the corner tucked away. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes before shaking his head.

His trooper laughed at him before shoving him forward.

Wolf was pushed in and the door was closed before he could even open his eyes and turn around. The last sight he’d seen was the body being pulled away. Closed off from the sun the room instantly went black. Then it hit him, the scent of stale shit, piss soaked wood, and the suffocating smell of a dirty old man who died several weeks back. Hokori’s head spun faster than a top, his body began to rock, and he fell against the wall outer wall. Only for it to burn his shoulder so badly it sobered him up just enough to pull away and land on the much cooler back wall. Though that one was still hot too.

Beside him, he heard a large weight hit the floor and the guards cheer and laugh at their misery before closing Moon Knight away like they did him.

A moment later there was silence.

After that time became so difficult to understand. Dust felt like fainting and was sure he’d already done so. He felt like he had to be dreaming, but contractor’s rarely dream. Dreams were creative and weird, not really a luxury that other contractors like himself had the pleasure of experiencing. He couldn’t recall any since coming to the Omniverse.

After a long time of just in silence and foul scent of decay, he heard one voice. Clear as if he were in the same room, Moon Knight muttered: “Sorry, Dust…”

It was another long time swimming in nothing before Hokori could think of a response himself. He had found a spot in one corner where he felt most comfortable. Which was saying a lot for the cramped up man. His height has always been a conversation starter, but only now that he was in this tiny box did he feel the bad side of being so big. “Don’t.”

The silence between responses weren’t measured by time, but by distance.

“I failed you all,” Marc said. Somewhere between defeat and regret.

“Just because a plan fails does not mean the person has.” Dust’s response was slow but responded faster than before. Like his mind was reciting something instead of answering.

It felt like thousands of kilometers before his leader responded. “..Thanks.”

-

“Trying to escape was a terrible idea…” Eventually, the conversation began again, it felt like worlds apart at this point.

“Yes.” Dust finally said. “It was.”

Moon Knight chuckled as if he’d been expecting sympathy instead of a blunt response. This made Dust smile.

“Survival is the most basic thought we have. When mixed with fear and desperation it becomes a bad idea but with the best intentions behind it.” Dust added.

Marc felt himself smiling. “I lost my head there a bit, I should have thought this whole thing through a bit.”

Dust’s smile faded. “Trust me, working on just 100% logic is no way to live either.” He raised his head until it sat against the corner too. He could breathe a little better, but he could still smell the corpse. “There’s no anger or pride in your life, there’s no emotional attachment to people, there’s no joy to it.”

The silence measured a few meters before a response was heard from the other side. “I tried to have those things in my life but anytime I set things right there was always something to put them into harms way." Marc gave a low sigh at being reminded of Marlene. "Did you know I died once? Not here in the Omniverse but on Earth."

Dust’s silence wasn’t as expansive as Spector realized quickly that he was expected to continue. He wanted to continue, Volk wanted him to continue!

There was shifting in the boxes. "I once was what most people consider to be a scoundrel a real-life bad guy. I was a mercenary taking over small countries in Africa or South America just for profit. Heh, life tends to be cruel I died in Egypt shortly after saving what would be the love of my life. That wasn't the end, my less then warm body laid under the statue of Khonshu it spoke to me and offered a second chance. A second chance to gain vengeance and to redeem myself. From there I guess you could say Marc Spector became the Moon Knight.” He said, getting lost in the dark and comparing it to a tomb.

The younger Prime trained his eyes on a shape in the dark, not sure if it was his mind or real. He was comparing a lot of his past to Moon Knight. Contractors might not have been widely known to the public, especially since they were primarily used by the government for secret missions. But those who did know…

“Khonshu… That’s one of the gods or the moon.” He said, loud enough to confirm he’d been listening. He knew a lot about the lore that revolved around the moon. The Russians had done extensive research and inhumane tests on him and his power. They tried to force him to change without kissing him, but the consequences had nearly been the death of him. They shot him with a bullet and a silver bullet, compared the damage and then left them inside for several days. Which they had a hell of a time digging out due to his actual healing factor.

“Yes. Khonshu gives me life and in return, I do as he says and enact brutal justice to those who would do harm to travelers of the night. Which comes to a more ironic situation. In my early days of being Moon Knight, I got hired by a group called the Committee to hunt down a werewolf. Gladly I caught on to what they were going to do to the poor kid or New York would have had werewolf being used as a hit man."

With his words came forth a flip book worth of memories that were re-lived. So many that Dust wasn’t sure how long the space between the white-clad hero’s words and his. Dread had settled into his stomach, turning what meal he’d been scarfing down before the riot sour. “Is that why you look at me the way you do?” He thought he’d whispered it.

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean?”

Hokori spaced some silence between them. “Back in my world, I was a heartless killer myself. Only now I can regret it. I can look back on the faces and feel pity, remorse, and even guilt. Back then I couldn’t feel anything. Not even fear. I just worked on survival and logic.”

His head floated forward until his chin touched his chest. He felt his hair caress his cheeks and curtain his shame.

“I was so young when they came for me, I didn’t even know what was going on. They picked me out of the snow like a flower, then they began to pluck my petals away… It feels like I should be able to blame them, but it also feels like that would just be making excuses for the monster that I was.” Dust's words were weighted heavily with the past.

"Old habits don't die fast,” Marc said without pause, then realized he was in a similar situation. “And I should apologize for expecting the worst when in reality they've been a good help."

Moon Knight’s words make Dust smile gently and lift his head up again and smile over his shoulder. There was a wall between them literally and metaphorically, but he felt the metaphorical ones melt away and a connection form. He smiled gently and then closed his eyes to lean his head on the wall. “Like you said, habits don’t break overnight.” He teased.

Khonshu’s Warrior let out a soft laugh. It’s been a bit since that sensational reaction came out of simple pleasure like good friends. "I guess we have something in common, though the choices I made were my own." He took a moment to gather his thoughts and shift to shift in the corner a bit. "They were wrong choices but here we are now hunting down the bad guys doing the world a favor day by day."

It was SW-808’s turn to laugh. “Well, we would be if we weren’t among them.”

They both had a good laugh over that, starting with a few chuckles matched by the other before turning to loud barks of humor which escaped from their boxes without them. It did wonders for the smell.
[Image: source.gif]
"Centurion: I'll leave you to your work then Dust. Thanks for chatting!
Me: no problem. stay awesome!
Centurion: It's more of a passive ability"
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#16
“And you want me to just, what, look the other way!?”

Centurion, fully encased in his silver regalia, slammed his palms down on the table of Initiative's War Room. Sparks of orange energy jumped up from the impact, fuzzing out the 3D projection of a large facility deep within the South American jungle. Across from the hero stood Captain Bethany Lang, dressed in fatigues and a sharp holster, the Initiative logo emblazoned on her shoulder. Her close-cropped black hair framed a stern face and fierce, almond-shaped eyes. Beside her stood government liaison Nathan Barrow, dressed much more business than his commanding officer. His bald head, dark skin, and smooth features were a stark contrast to the much harsher Captain. Cade glared at Lang with venom, challenging her steely gaze.

“Yes.” Captain Lang remained stoic, despite her compatriot’s agitation.

“WHAT is WRONG with you people!?!?”

Agent Barrow opened his mouth to speak, but Safeguard interjected. “Centurion, this is only step one. I sincerely doubt this is the extent of Captain Lang’s machinations.” Despite the sound reason in his words, Safeguard failed in his attempt to calm Centurion. He lowered his voice, speaking with a forced compassion he was still getting used to. “Take a break. Let me handle the preparations.”

Cade glared at the cobalt-clad hero, Safeguard’s eyes serious and expressionless behind his translucent visor. Reluctantly, Centurion scoffed and turned away from the table, shaking his head in disbelief. Safeguard allowed his friend to vent quietly in the corner and took over the briefing.

“I’ll keep him in line. Other than the civilian Chimeras being detained within Daedalus’ laboratory and the unidentified Biomass he’s harvesting to engineer such genetic anomalies, what other variables should I be made aware of?”

Barrow glanced at Lang, his brow knitting with concern. Lang showed no reaction, her expression remaining calm. The agent accepted his captain’s silence as permission and spoke.

“Kids. Daedalus seems convinced that the unfinished development of children will allow for an easier manipulation of the human genome.” Barrow rattled off the complex jargon uncomfortably, obviously disturbed by the thought.

“Children.” Safeguard confirmed flatly. “Chimera children.”

Lang blinked. “Yes.”

The idea of children, taken from their homes and used like guinea pigs by a man like Daedalus was almost too much to bear. Chimeras were never pretty, usually twisted beyond recognition, their very humanity stripped away. Safeguard had already seen too many to expect any less. It had been wise for Lang to wait until Centurion was away to mention this.

Safeguard sighed, letting his head drop. “I will speak to Centurion. However, do not expect me to continue justifying your bureaucracy to him. He’s right, we should be taking action. THis is the closest we have gotten to Daedalus in months.”

“There’s rationale to this, Safeguard. You know that more than any of us.”

Reluctantly, the hero nodded. “That does little to clear my conscience, Captain Lang.”

“Just trust the system,” Barrow said. “The brass knows what it’s doing.”


---

“Toby, vitals?”

“Steady, Dr. Thomas.” The medical droid’s thin fingers adjusted settings in the many machines hooked up to the young Centurion. “His responses to the neural stimulation has been surprisingly stable.”

“Excellent. Keep the sedative steady, but increase the impulse stimulation. I want to see how far we can push his body until that suit feels a need to introduce itself.”

“Yes, Doctor.” The droid rotated a dial, eliciting painful twitches from the young man on the table.

His eyes darted left and right beneath their lids, the hero mouthing incoherently as his brain dredged up any memory to keep him sane. His muscles tensed, the warmth of the Apparatus building. Without release, his heart rate increased. Dr. Thomas noted this change with a subtle nod. Deadened by the sedative, the Apparatus continued to slam itself against the mental barrier the chemicals and machines produced in Cade’s brain.

Flashes of the Initiative facility in Washington, his ship, and his friends wormed their way into his dreams. Broken pieces flowed together like a puzzle, every moment becoming clearer and clearer until he could hear and see and feel every second of his past mistakes. The ship got closer, the words more comprehensible. Cade felt like he was losing his mind, or, he would have if he was awake.


---

The ride in Centurion’s ship, the Atlaas, was mostly quiet. Engines hummed, diodes flashed, and metal settled with a tense whisper. Cade remained lost in his own frustration while his companion focused on preparing the surveillance material that Captain Lang had issued them. Eventually, beyond frustrated, Cade tore off his helm. He ripped at the mesh, the nanomachines unbinding and falling away like cloth before blinking out of existence and allowing him to breath the cool air of the Atlaas.

“This is a load of crap!”

Safeguard was startled out of his preparations. “Excuse me?”

Raging, Cade gestured wildly. “This whole mission, it’s ridiculous! WHy send me to help with a surveillance mission? Why send either of us? And worse, for us to not be able to do anything, when we’ll be feet away from the bastard that created Mercier? No, no way!”

“Cade, Initiative clearly has stratagems in place reliant on our mission’s success.”

“That doesn’t make it okay! There are kids in that facility, Will! KIDS!”

Safeguard looked up from his calibrations, the expression behind his mask somber. “I am well aware.”

“Then we should be doing something, getting those people out! Not just… planting some bugs and leaving them to… to…” Cade sighed heavily, flopping down onto a seat.

“I know Cade.” Safeguard pulled on the membrane off his mask, the thick visor attached to anchor points on the cloth. His thick black hair flopped freely and Will rubbed his face. “But we need to remember that this is the agreement. We do things their way, and Initiative doesn’t interfere when we do things ours. It’s a mutually beneficial deal.”

Centurion didn’t respond, instead blinking as his mask reformed with a hum. The metal black out his vision for a split second before his HUD flared to life within the helm. He reveled in the isolation of his armor, mentally willing all outside stimulus to fade into oblivion. The armor quieted, no sounds from the ship penetrating the alien metal. Cade sat there, preparing himself to see hell. Images of innocent people, dragged from the streets and their homes, subjected to horrific and painful experiments, their bodies mutilated, danced in his mind. He tried to close his eyes to think of something else, but the images didn’t fade. For now he’d just store this anger, then take it out on Dr. Daedalus when they found him.

Centurion steeled in his heart to kill the man.


---

“He seems agitated, Doctor.” 2-1B observed.

“Good.” Dr. Thomas stroked his salt-and-pepper goatee, wrinkled brow creasing with interest. “And the suit?”

“It seems directly integrated with his emotional state, fluctuating in time with any responses of the amygdala. His Limbic system is quite active. I estimate that any further stimulus may activate the armor.”

“Can we increase the dosage without causing any lasting damage?”

“Physically, yes. However I am uncertain as to the extent of psychological trauma we could incur.”

“Do it, in small increments. I need him cognizant for the combat and reflex tests.”

“Yes, Doctor Thomas.”


The droid turned back to its station, twisting dials and sliding levers. Cade’s body spasmed more intensely than before. His muscles flexed painfully with the fresh influx of chemical and electrical stimuli. His eyelids twitched over rabid orbs, flitting to and fro in a frenzy. He pulled at his restraints, his previous lethargy overridden by unconscious adrenaline.

“I am detecting a severe jump in heart rate, breathing, and brain activity, Doctor,” 2-1B reported.

“Stabilize the dose, Toby.” Dr. Thomas “We’re so close!”

Toby obliged, gently adjusting the machines. Cade’s frantic twists calmed, his breathing slowed, and his memories cleared again. He returned to the ship, on that terrible day. The smells of the lab he was strapped in only heightened the strength of the memory

---

The ship landed silently, plated hull shimmering into invisibility as the grass bent to avoid the draft. Safeguard was on his feet and ready to move as soona s the metal parted to allow the heroes into the jungle surrounding their quarry. Centurion took a moment, still lost in thought within his armor. The blue hero glanced back from outside the ship.

“Centurion. We don’t have a lot of time for introspection.”

Cade nodded. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

He stood up and hopped out of the ship, the opening flowing closed behind him. Centurion joined his comrade as they trekked through the underbrush. Safeguard could see, even without a visual bead on his friend’s expression, that Cade was still upset. It was uncomfortable for the man to see his friend in distress, with no knowledge on how to dispel it. He could recite most every obscure portion of the human brain, but of course it’s truly inner workings were a mystery. Despite the logic of maintaining a cool head on mission, Will couldn’t help but also feel upset by Centurion’s state of mind. Nonetheless, they walked in silence. It was nearly half an hour before Dr. Daedalus’ facility loomed behind the trees. Pushing aside shrubs and bushes, Centurion stared at the building with disgust. His helm’s HUD scanned the outer walls, but he could detect nothing outside.

Safeguard set to placing cameras and listening devices in small crevasses. Centurion stood watch, the projection of his suit’s readouts flitting from object to object and feeding him data. He couldn’t help but stare in at the images he had pinned to the side of his HUD. Everything Initiative had gathered on Dr. Daedalus glared at him like an open wound. There was a venom in every twisted word, every description of what the monster was known for. Now, manipulation and torture of children could be added to the list. As if Cade didn't have enough about the man to hate. Eventually, his angry silence was broken by the other hero with him.

“See anything?” Safeguard didn’t glance up from the device he was planting along a nearby tree.

“No. Not yet.”

Satisfied with his work, Will glanced back at his Hawaiian companion. “You don’t seem okay.”

“Hm?” Cade tried to shrug off the observation. “Fine, thanks.”

“Lying isn’t one of your finer skills, Cade.” Safeguard abandoned the remaining sensor and walked up to his friend. “And emotional expression isn’t one of mine. However…”

Will let the tone in his voice carry what his words could not. Cade drooped his head.

“It’s hard when you actually can’t do anything, Will.” Cade took a deep breath, his companion waiting patiently. “And these people… these kids. I could save them.”

“Yes. You could. But it would likely endanger them. There is no telling the repercussions Daedalus’ experimentation has ravaged on their bodies. For all intents and purposes, this facility might be the only reason they are still alive.”

Will instantly regretted his statement’s tactless realism. Thankfully, Centurion seemed unfazed.

“I’m going to tear this building down with my bare hands when this is over, Will.” A glimmer of bold orange lighting coursed from Centurion’s elbows to his palms as his hands tightened into fists. “Then I’m going to rip Daedalus apart.”

“No, you are not.” Will said quietly. “That’s not how we do things.”

“Sometimes I regret that.”

Safeguard was silent for a moment. He decided to go back to setting up the final sensor array, pointing the tiny dish at the laboratory across the clearing.

“What if they had found me first, Will?”

Glancing up from his work, Safeguard cocked his head. “I… don’t understand.”

“Initiative has already poked me full of holes, run tests.”

“Some at your own request; to test your limits,” Will observed.

“Still… All that time as a lab rat… and those are the good guys. God only knows what kind of crap Lang is keeping from us. What if she had found me first on that beach, before I learned to control the suit. Would I be another name in a dossier, locked away in some government facility and experimented on like an animal?”

Will was stunned back into silence. He focused on completing the alignment to his dish. After the minute it took to do so, he tried to answer.

“That’s a what if, Cade. Not a reality. These people, their situation is much different.”

“I know. But still. To someone like Daedalus, I’m just a science project. To someone like him I’m just… a test subject. A… A…”

“Yes, Cade?”

“I’m a weapon, Will.”

---

Just a weapon.

“Excuse me, Thomas?”

“Apologies, Warden. Just the machinations of an old man. I said that the armor is a weapon.”

Both men watched 2-1B adjust dials and monitor vital signs as Cade writhed madly on the table he was strapped to from behind a thick layer of bulletproof plexiglass. Warden Ellis was especially interested in Dr. Thomas’ theories.

“If it really is a weapon, I’m interested to know how it can be used to the advantage of the Empire. That goes doubly if it can be used in conjunction with the other confiscated tech from today’s… activities.”

“I am, as of yet, uncertain sir. However, this ‘armor’ seems to react directly to the user’s emotional state. At the moment, we are able to prevent the suit from fully activating through a combination of anesthetics and electrical inhibitors. However, as we push the subject further, the suit continues to attempt to use itself as a self-defence mechanism.” The Doctor took a breath, scratching his chin. “Were I to simplify it, this apparatus is the physical representation of the boy’s instinct, manifesting when needed and carrying out any and all physical tasks as the user deems fit.”

“And we can harness that?” The Warden narrowed his eyes at the pulses of orange energy just beneath Cade’s skin.

“Potentially, but I make no promises. After the psychological stress test, we still have the physical trials to run.”

“Speed it up, Thomas. I don’t have a  lot of time. The Emperor wants results.” Cade screamed, his back arched and the sound muffled through the glass, eliciting a hasty manipulation of dials from Toby. “And don’t kill him. Yet.”

“Of course, sir. This shall be my priority for the remainder of the week.”

Ellis nodded. “Refer to Dr. Walter for psychological assessment after these tests. The more we understand about this young man and how he uses this armor, the better.”

Dr. Thomas motioned to Toby, who raised the levels sharply. Cade cried out, his brain overwhelmed with stimulation. More memories bombarded his mind’s eye. The mutated forms of people swam around in the ocean of pain he was swept away in. The cries of children, the desperate begging of Chimeras for death, Daedalus’ laugh as he speared a boy with a long syringe. Tears poured out of Cade’s eyes, from both the physical pain of the tests and the terror of seeing innocence swept away. Warden Ellis turned away from the spastic boy and his mechanical tormentor and left the room. After all, he still had a riot to report.
From Hawaii, With Love
[Image: W4PxwDv.jpg]
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#17
“Where are you going Marc, where!?"  Bushman's cackling voice rung out through his ears. Clutching his AK-47 close and his boots kicking up sand as he restlessly ran as far as he could from the mercenary warlord and his men.

His feet ached at each sprinting step. It was never smart to run through Sudan’s desert due to scorching heat and the liability of sinkholes but in his case there was an exception to be made, especially when a horde of mercenaries were on your tail.  

Bullets either trailed inches behind his body of above Spector head, each individual one hitting the hot sand, or open pillars from the nearby tomb. Marc hoped to God Marlene and the people with her got to safety. It was time to end the game Bushman exploited, to finish the heartless bastard and stop the needless killing. Marc knew the people of Selima didn't deserve what he and Bushman brought, but why now did he grow a conscience? Was it watching Marlene's father have his throat bitten out by Bushman? Or was it something old? Something locked away in the deepest pits of his mind?

Spector pushed away such thoughts pushing himself to move faster and keep dodging bullets. Firing a few potshots back at his hot on trail perpetrators he vaulted over several fallen ancient  pillars. It was obvious that the tomb had been lost to the course of time but Marc was curious as to what Dr. Alraune found in his discovery of such an ancient Egyptian tomb. It was too late to be guessing about such things though.Running through the tomb’s entrance the sun’s hot beaming light stopped only partially eliminating the ruin.

Marc shivered from drastic temperature change as he made further and further through the tomb, his less than friendly followers still close behind and taking every shot as they could at him. He needed to find a place to hide, a place where he had the advantage. Noticing a dark narrow hallway Spector took it in a hope of getting that needed advantage and Zoomed in and out through the hallway, Marc soon finding himself in an a open room. Old tatured egyptian tapestries decorated it as a large almost eri looking statue stood in the center, a large white cloth draped over it.

Reaching closer to the statue close gun fire echoed booming throughout the room and the rest of the tomb. Marc gritted his teeth clutching his chest with his left hand wincing at unimaginable pain as he noticed four bullets had tore through him. Losing his footing Marc reached out for the statue for a last effort of resistance, his right hand latched onto white cloth that hung over the statue pulling it down as he collapsed to floor dead on the spot. The white cloth laid over him like a blanket.

Cackling echoed through the room reaching into every corner before escaping through the rest of the tomb.

“Poor Marc and to think that I was starting to like you?” Bushman scolded at Spector’s less than alive body. Stepping onto the white cloth and leaning close to Marc’s bleeding body he placed he placed the same ceremonial Egyptian dagger Dr. Alraune he tried to kill with, on Spector’s corsp.

“A pity you learned morales this late in the game. You were going to be rich, rich enough to be a king but now you lay dead making this tomb as your grave. Farewell Marc Spector perhaps we’ll see each other in hell.”  

-

Howling wind came as gusts of cold almost empty air past him. Silent but very noticeable whispering filled inside his ears. The world around him was covered in darkness the only thing Illuminating his surroundings was the purplish hue surrounding millions of stars across the sky and in the center of all that a bright almost blinding moon. It was a full as he had ever seen and it… felt close. Close enough to see craters and holes from billions of years of meteorite crashing on its surface.

“Marc Spector.”

Marc jumped from the sound falling to ground his eyes meeting the owner of the mysterious voice. It was a being of pale white dressed in ornate egyptian clothing and jewels. In his right hand it held a white spear with a crescent moon at its tip. Its face was blank only carrying a set of glowing blue eyes the stared into Spector’s soul.   

‘Who… Who are you?” Heart racing fear came over him.  

“I am Khonshu, god of the moon and taker of vengeance.”    

“What do you want from me?” he said attempting to pick himself up.

“I have been watching you for sometime, studying the way you think, the way you feel, the way you act.” The god stepped close to Marc his grip on the spear tightening. “You by all mortal accounts are not a good man but I know you have always longed for a chance. A chance to be the good guy a man of retribution and righteousness. I know that all your life you’ve never fit in, that you hear voices and change personalities. So I tell what if I could give you the second chance you ask for?”

Marc thought for a second on the what Khonshu said thinking hard on his offer.

“And what if I refuse?”

“Then you stay dead falling into a void of hell forever.”

“Then… I accept.”

The moon god reached through with his left claw-like hand phasing through his chest and clutching at his heart. Blue energy formed inside it before traveling to his eyes causing them  to glow. Marc gagged and grunted in pain from the energy coursing through his entire body.

“Be reborn my Moon Knight.”   

-
Marc’s vision was enveloped in darkness. His breath short as he tried to calm himself from his abrupt awakening. It was a dream. Only a dream, one that he had revisited him from time to time. The dream was of the past, it was a constant reminder of why he was the Moon Knight. He died but for some graceful reason the god of the moon, Khonshu, gave him a second chance. A chance to prove and redeem himself. So on that day, on the cold floor of the tomb wrapped in silver cloth Marc Spector became the protector of those who travel the night. He alone was Khonshu’s aspect for the mortal plain. He was the shepherd of the moon’s flock.

Marc's eyes narrowed as something shifted in the dark. To beat and sore he tried to tense up and brace for an attack or even anything. Slowly and yet quietly as well the bird skull of Khonshu's head peered through the darkness of Spector's cell until the god's body was in full view.

“You should have listened to Stark's Butler.”

Marc gritted his teeth.

“And wait for Cade or one of to be tortured? No, no I won't let that happen.”

“Listen to me my son, I sense great danger for you and the Avengers. There is great power here in this Omniverse and with that power comes a great evil.”

“Hydra?” Marc cocked and eyebrow.

“Perhaps, or perhaps worse.”

“We're not the original Avengers but I'm sure we can handle things.”

“You're still not listening to me! You must be ready for the darkness of evil, you and the others must learn responsibility with your powers. The evil you face is already ready for you and coming unprepared would result in things I dare not foresee.”

“So what? You're proposing training?”

“Precisely, you and the others must ready yourselves for what is to come. For in this special case I will be watching closely and testing everyone when the time's right. Though my son the most important thing for you and the others is rest and the ability to leave this prison.” Ash flaking off his suit Khonshu began to fade away back into the deepest parts of Spector's mind.

“Khonshu wait!”

Remember my son, I am watching.
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#18
Marcus felt a black spiral into events all flowing into one area. It seemed like the lights were off and there was one awkward spotlight pointed on the Terminator.

First there were the PTSD symptoms, could terminators even get them to say the least?

It was a warzone.

Set in Judgement Day back home.

Instead of John Connor and his men and woman fighting terminators, it was survival of the fittest.

Man against Man, Teammate against Teammate

A alternative world, his world. Human vs Human ripping each other apart for entertainment since there were no more enemies.
A storm was raging, he watched himself in strides, his eyes red watching human after human rip each other to shreds, The Resistance was no more.
The prison cell was in theory holding him back from what he could be.

He decided to push his way through this mess, and pull Blair from what seemed like a jumbled mess of nightmare and dream a terminator could have. In the background, you can see terminators with devil horns hung like rag dolls on crosses, while humans stood over each other in the year 2047 aiming a gun at each other's head.
Pulling Blair from the edge of another's gun was ... almost hard.

Why did the machines wish to kill humans? Was it because they loved to kill themselves and all of their crimes?
Blair turned to Marcus and frowned "The Resistance is killing each other." "STOP THEM."
A shaking moment and the voice came at the same time.

"Marcus.. MARCUS!

Wake the fuck up."

Marcus's eyes snapped open and sighed "Blair?!"
[Image: marcus%20wright%20sig.png]

[Image: ytLTikp.png?1]
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#19
Angel laid there humming a tune to herself. She was starting to see why people didn’t like prison, it was boring, especially when your put by yourself in a cell.

As she was thinking about making sure she will never get into a jail again, or at least make sure to bring a book with her next time, an uproar of prisoners distracted her. Looking up she saw a set of shaggy black hair, and despite the owner uncharacteristically sad mood, she recognised it in an instant.



Hours had passed since the male was put in the cell block next to her. During that time she had been waiting for the guards to leave so she could start her plan.

Knocking on the side of the cell she tried to get her neighbours attention. “Koal, is that you?”


No answer.

Did they not hear or were they ignoring her. “I said koal, is that you?”

“...How do you know my name?” His voice sounded defeated and dull, almost as if he had been crying recently. That wasn’t like him.

“I’m a friend, what’s got you so bummed?”

“...I don’t know you. And to be honest, I don’t really care to at the moment. Now leave me alone, please.” His voice seemed to sink lower as he spoke, almost to the point she was sure he was crying again.

“Look.” She took a more authoritarian tone for the moment as she explain herself. “I want to help you, so just tell me what's wrong.”

“Oh. So I suppose that makes it okay, then? You want to joe what’s wrong? My scars hurt, I have a blaster wound in my chest, and my best friend was just murdered because of me. How’s that for what’s wrong?!”

“But… you were a loner…” Angel didn’t understand, when did he have a best friend? She had read all the books… how could she not remember this? And did she just say that out loud?

“...Yeah. I was...whatever. Who are you and why the hell do you know me?” His voice snapped into a sharp and rugged tone, one that she recognized as his normal attitude.

“Angel. Angel Fisher.” She sat down on the floor realising how long this was take, leaning back onto the wall. “And what type of excuse do you want to here? I too tired to make a half-assed one out if the shock of the question. Though by now J should probably come to expect it.”

“How about the excuse that makes sense, hm?” Angel could hear the sarcasm in his voice, but decided to ignore it.

“Believe me, nothing in this place makes sense.”

Koal’s laughter was bitter yet sincere.

“Yeah. That probably the most sane thing I’ve heard yet. Well, I’m Koal, as you somehow already know. What do you want? I’m afraid that if you want to kill me or hurt me, there’s a line. Take a number and I’ll be with you shortly.”

Angel sighed a breath of relief. “Now why would I want to do that for? I assume you would look a lot less handsome dead.”

“That’s the natural assumption anyway. Alright, if you don’t want me dead or wishing I was... what do you want?”

“Like I said, to help you.”

“I’m listening...”
[Image: 2IJsdrC.png]
"Who cares if your not the Hero, That's not what's good about you."
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#20
When did the darkness and the time warping silence of the outhouse sized box with its nostril numbing smells became a sleep for Dust was beyond him. He came in and out of it constantly, only the conscious thoughts of weather he was awake or not broke the barrier, though not very well. Eventually he couldn't even smell the choking scent of the dead man that had inhabited his new home previously.

Instead of peaceful sleep however Hokori heard gunshots and cannons going off in his dreams, smoke filled the air and the strong scent of death that comes with war. He whimpered like a pup in a bad dream. There was no one to confirm it, but he jerked lightly as he relieved his earlier days in the Russian army.

It was the first time Shock and him had fought. He refused to kill women if he could prevent it. He spared her multiple times those days. He was sure that the only reason she didn’t come back at him another time was because he’d finished his goal for his master and no longer needed to fight her but escape.

She was quick with her staff, the shocking he’d received earlier reminded him a lot of her fighting weapon. It’s sting always did a number on his nerves despite him acting like it didn’t. And if she attacked a joint with that thing, he was out of it for days afterwards. His master was more upset by those times than anything. They, however, never asked for her head. Thankfully.

Her long blond hair haunted his dreams, entrapping him in his only long term regret. Her eyes were always so fierce but never mad… They stared back at him with a sadness that bore through him and he had to look away. When he did he came face to face with Tamsin one more. She bowed politely and turned her back to him again. He watched her step up to the teleporting pads back at DA and vanished from his life once more. Inside he worried he let her walk to her death…

The night dragged on, and on. Or at least it felt like night is what had been passing. His only visual cue of anything different was a single ray of light at the bottom of the door. He saw it, but without anything other than his thoughts to keep him company he sunk lower and lower into his guilt.

Days passed, long days and nights.

He heard something scratching at his door and looked up just in time to be blinded by the pure sunlight coming through into his eyes. He cried out painfully with a hiss and tried to shield himself. The attacker took this time grab him by the arms and drag him out.

Dust was thrown into the mud before he was surrounded by men. They began to beat him harshly across the back. The Werewolf Prime hid the back of his head with his hands and hoped that he wouldn’t be paralyzed by the beating, but otherwise took it with as much grace as any inmate could. When they were done a couple aggressively grabbed him again and dragged the the abused dog back to the main building.

-

Volk was pushed into the same bolted down metal chair as before, chains wrapped around him more tightly this time, but his feet remained firmly on the ground. Where the Good Doctor had watched him be proud and stoic, he grinned at a beaten and slightly starved - a more weakened - boy. “Good afternoon, Dust.”
[Image: source.gif]
"Centurion: I'll leave you to your work then Dust. Thanks for chatting!
Me: no problem. stay awesome!
Centurion: It's more of a passive ability"
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