Of Gods and Men

The Battle of Manhattan: Epilogue
After the destruction of Manhattan, Ironhide faces the future.

The wind whipped past his face, dust and smoke obscuring his vision. Strangely, the world seemed to finally be at peace. He was alone in the grey, and the world was retreating from him.

It was a second before he remembered where he was, what had happened. Then it struck him: he had failed. As his mind cleared, so did his vision, and the Manhattan skyline began to clear. Or, at least, what was left of it.

What was left of Manhattan was in flames, and the rest was simply rubble. No busy streets, jammed with afternoon traffic, no eager tourists and busy New Yorkers traversing the concrete arteries of the Big Apple. Manhattan was dead, and sprawled below him was its still warm corpse.

Below him. The shock of remembering, the horror of the sight; he had forgotten where he was. Not that it mattered. He was level with the peak of the Empire State Building, if it were still standing, and plummeting. He was above water now, the blast apparently having blasted him horizontally before gravity took over and dragged him back down.

The air around him, which had been filled with debris ranging from soda cans to pickup trucks not even half a minute ago, was no clear but for smoke and dust. Vaporized, along with the historic monument that had been so close, by a blast that he had failed to prevent.

It had all happened so quickly, everything a blur now. As the ground grew closer with each beat of his heart, time slowed for him, slowed enough for him to reflect on his greatest failure, and the doom that he had brought to New York City.

He wondered if his friends and allies had survived… but of course they hadn’t. How could they have? Once again, his gift, his curse, had left him alive, and alone.

The waves quickly approached, only heartbeats away, but seemingly an eternity. He looked up… no, down at the surf, red with the setting sun. It looked angry, as if the ocean had felt the pain and loss of those on the land that it surrounded. He looked at the waves below, and wondered what it would be like to let himself die. To let go, and let someone else fight in his place. It would be so easy, just a thought and he would be smashed against the rolling waves, killed as quickly and efficiently as if they were crested with concrete at this speed.

Just another corpse, fished out of the bay sometime during the cleanup in the next several days, or weeks. Nameless, and forgotten.

It would be so easy.

He closed his eyes, and thought of home.

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the Darkest Dawn
A New Age Dawns, But at What Cost?

It’s all gone wrong. Everything I’ve done up to this point, every move I’ve made and every life I’ve saved, it has all lead up to this one moment, and I took my eye off of the prize.

I should have listened to my gut, I should have made our move weeks ago. If I had, maybe thousands of people would still be alive today.

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Earth Runner
Woedin Part III of III

“Woooe-diiiiiinnnnnnn”

“Woooe-diiiiiinnnnnnn”

“Woooe-diiiiiinnnnnnn”

The chant alighted on the night air, carrying the hymn to the ears of the creatures in the dark. A pact of primitive villagers from a long lost time, definitely not modern, sung around a bright fire. They continued with calm reverence as they peered into the twisting flames, their chant morphing into a meditative sigh.

On the horizon a star fell from the sky. Magically enough, it landed not far from their sitting spot with a booming thud and flare of bright light. This was the first time anyone at this fire circle had been lucky enough to have a star fall within their walking distance. Curiosity fanned the flames of adventure and a small group set out for the landing site.

Following the trail of smoke to where the star had fallen was easy to track. It was only a handful of miles out, they could still see the smoke from their earlier cooking fire in the distance. When they arrived they were astonished at the heat the Earth put off. The ground was still sludgy from hot molten material strewn about. It was a short time they allowed the ground to cool before climbing the edge of the impact crater to see inside.

Some sort of enormous egg sat, but as a glossy reflective material that appeared to stay red hot, no larger than a person. None of the villagers, a total of seven to be exact, dared to approach the mysterious ore. As they watched the ore-egg cracked open, and the flare of its outer heat suddenly dissipated with a gush a hot wind blowing their hair back.

Inside was a man, like one of them, but without hair. Like a newborn, but a fully grown man and glowing like the shell. It stayed in a rested egg position for some time, shining like a beacon of light. The villagers were all amazed. Was it a person from the stars? How could it be?

One of the eldest clambered over the edge and slowly skidded into the pit, his curiosity peaking. This was a man named Hoontauk Mohit’Nahobi. He was fearless in this newfound discovery, a trait not so uncommon as man would come to find.

Hoontauk approached the golden figure, feeling the air heat around him. When he was close enough for words the figure turned on its heel to face him, and reached out a hand. The body language was seemingly common enough, and Hoontauk felt that this might be a special moment in his life, for it was he who was the one who called up the men to travel. It was he who had ascended the pit first, and it was he who climbed in alone. It was he now who stood before this being from another world!

Hoontauk knowing the gesture to be peaceful decided to return it and reached out his arm. Then a shockwave pulsed out from where the being and Hoontauk were standing, a wave so powerful it re-leveled a secondary crater. When but a few of the villagers came to, and found some of their comrades slain they were doubly shocked to find at the center of the crater was nothing more than a pyramid of crumbled and red hot embers.

*Deep in the Earth, at the furthest depths of the core*
Through the ancient mysteries of time and space we find the spirit of a galactic, or even cosmic force resting, centered. The very essence of an idea in it’s purest format as a living being. Mother Gaia; from before time, cosmic in space, eldritch in its basest forms when encountered on the physical plane of man.

Now nursing, as she would, one of her many creations. A babe from within the Sol sphere. A shattered egg that was shed by starlight, and as the stars would have it delivered to Earth. Not one of her sisters or brothers, but where there are the clearest stretching skies, the bluest of deep oceans, the greenest farthest hills.

Energy is very strange when it becomes sentient, or beyond that as far as comprehension allows. When it becomes aware of the field of the magnetic sphere it resides in as it’s home there settles an idea of comfort. In order to make itself present, however, it must shed and bond continuously with the outside, or the reality that Man knows.

Once such a bond is made the previous experiences of that person can template over, but generally the soul comes about fresh once their existence extends into our universe. The Elemental does indeed devour a living soul, but in doing so that soul becomes something far greater than what it would accomplish along the duration of a mortal life. They, being the soul template overlapping the Elemental template, become a being of pure thought and in essence pure energy.

However, the fizzles of magic leave many loopholes for ghosts and spirits to return. Sometimes the full embodiment of a past being can worm through to enshroud a new template, fully. Such occurrences are rare, but not unknown.

This Elemental was a shapeshifter of all the traces of our existence of Earth. Once one of its identities died it shifted into a new vibration completely. Once it devoured a soul it was reborn. Taking the form of light, or lava, or water generations down. The identity that evolved through each life-span never truly clinging to a specific mold, and therefore never having an ego past it’s death to remember itself by. Every form was new back to square one.

At this dawning age Man had only begun to understand the elements of power the Earth had at her reign. A new force was unleashed, to hold back tides of darkness that were foreseen. For future sight allowed Gaia to grant her children, elementals and mortals the gift of ever lasting life. Whether that be at a change in the core of the planet or through reproduction at the surface there was a spell cast and both Man and Elemental knew they were forever tied together, if only they could communicate.

Therefore Gaia unleashed her newest babe upon humanity. One that could learn and be human in every way, even in death. The refraction of the Elemental’s spirit, and its commune within itself to shift from one power to another after it’s death was a generationally split decision. Much the same way traits appear in people farther down their lines, with some even reoccurring.

/TBC
/TBC

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Meetings: Part 1
Ironhide's Log: 1

It’s been almost three years since I became aware of my role in the world, since I officially died in a bank bobbing in Detroit, since I began the Mission. In those three years, I’ve helped maybe a dozen mutants, lost twenty-three that I know of to DARWIN, and seen dozens of flats die in the process.

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Blinding Light
Woedin Part I of III

Gamaliil Rabota, skilled linguist in Spanish, Russian, Mandarin, French, and Vietnamese. A masterful interrogator, tracker, hunter, mutant. Practiced in the deadlier forms of Kung Fu and stealth. A self proclaimed advocate of God’s work, and a rogue KGB super assassin – Death Blossom. Flying over the upper end of the Zuni Mountains in southern New Mexico, he was tracking a splinter cell of FBI agents who had detained a group of “illegals” and were now hauling them to a processing center.

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The "FBI"
Woedin Part II of III

“Godammit Wilsons get this shitty pack off me. It didn’t do shit to that class five! Holy crap have I got news for the boss. Theres some heavy hitters out here in the west, we were just hunting small time techno-junkie hackers and lame water-walkers. But a mutant that can take the juice of Dr. Finks electro-gun? Damn. Damn, damn, damn.”

The “FBI” agent was sputtering this speech over taking off the pack by loosening its many straps. The backpack and the cannon weighed roughly in the hundred and twenty area so it was quite a burden, until science finds a way to make it smaller. FBI Agent Grimstone finally had the pack on the ground, and then reached inside his vehicle for his cellular. While pressing buttons on the phone he looked around.

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Dawn
Part III of III

“Leave the dark avenger alive, my daughter; kill the rest.”
I have underestimated my father, and my hubris may cost us our lives; and the universe it’s freedom.
Galactica smiled, beautiful despite her malice; the raw power of the cosmos smoking from her eyes.
“I think the metal man first?” She said.
But destroyer was walking away already.
“As you wish.”
“What’s the plan here, Night?” Roger braced himself.
There is always a plan.
“Watch out for the sword.”
“That’s it?”
“No. Take it.”

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The Dead of Night
Part II of III

Shadow Torches dragged the remains of the bizarre creatures away the second they arrived on scene.
Ariel patrol, Sicams, boots on the ground and a dosing of satellite coverage; it didn’t matter, they were both of them gone, like they had never existed.
The short had erased most of Rogers playback, only the ghostly image of the inky humanoid dragging the other into the darkness of the upper city remained; it was the only thing that told Roger that it hadn’t been a dream.
The rain intensified throughout the evening, and it took a good six hours for Roger to get debriefed, detoxed and reprimanded for letting the subject go.
He was back at his desk when he got the call, like he knew he would. Just two men in high fashion suits, a nod and a mag across town.
Light Towers.

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The Gathering Dusk
Part I of III

“You going tomorrow night?”
Roger lifted his eyes from the thick stat-report in his hands.
“What do you think?”
Derek leaned back and flung his feet onto his own desk that butted against Rogers.
“C’mon man; Ryan is going, she digs you, you dig her; when are you two just going to get it over with?”
“I’m working here, De”
“So? I’m working too; doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the spoils, right?”
Roger sighed and placed the report on the desk. It was dead anyway; nothing that warranted any real attention.
“Look… I, er. Saw Kelly the other day. Last week.”

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