The Perils of Enhancegirl 13: The Penitentiary Supreme - now complete!

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Damselbinder

"Well, I thought it was, like, a gigantic crock of shit," a young, lithe redhead declared confidently to her companion. Only she, of the sparkling emerald eyes and exquisite geometry of freckles on her lovely cheeks, could have said such a thing while sounding cheerful and sweet at the same time.
"I might have known. I finally drum up a measure of enthusiasm for an American artist, and now you start complaining." The tall, Japanese maiden, refined even in her loose, yellow-and-white dress, shook her head. Her soft black hair was beginning to get quite long after a request from her girlfriend, going down past her neck. "I mean, Pollock's no Van Gogh, but he's inventive."
"It's like...what's the point?" Sophie said. She was wearing a knee length, black skirt, grey tights, and flats, with a long-sleeved white shirt, buttoned up to the neck, adding a touch of artistic elegance to her youthful charm. "It's just splodges of paint. I mean, I get it. It's abstract. But, like...it's like if you just laid out still frames of a movie. At some point it becomes so abstract it's...meaningless."
"Next time," Mariko said, "turn your powers on before you look at his work. I think you'll see more." Sophie clicked her tongue.
"Y'know, that's not a bad idea, sweetie," the redhead said. Mariko flashed a smile.
"Why, it's almost as if I'm extremely intelligent."
"And soooo humble."
"Humble too? You are a lucky girl, aren't you?"

The two were walking with their arms linked, matching each other's steps exactly. Sophie had to sort of swing herself forward to keep pace with her tall girlfriend's longer strides, so it almost looked like she was skipping in her happiness. It was a bit of a silly little game, but what was the point of love if one couldn't be playful with it? Sophie wasn't in fact skipping, but she might well have been. This was the first time the two had had entirely with each other in a while.

Mariko, as her alter-ego Spectra, had leapt into her duties as the newest member of legendary super-team the Pauldron with aplomb. It had been some time now since she had joined, and she'd been determined to fill the hole left by the outgoing powerhouse Hydrocita. And so, since her awful ordeal at the hands of Hades, she'd yet to suffer another defeat.

Ironically enough, it had been against an entirely mundane opponent that Spectra had won the greatest plaudits. In San Francisco, following the tail end of a police-superhuman-co-operation seminar that Imperion had insisted his underlings attend, Mariko had foiled an attempt by the worst kind of right-wing loon to shoot up a gay bar. It had been a spectacular PR coup for the Pauldron in general, and for Spectra in particular.

Sophie saw it in her lover's expression, heard it in the velvety elegance of her voice. The confidence. Mariko had always put a lot of stock in reputation, and now hers was at its zenith. She was like a tigress after a successful hunt: calm, sated, but still with fire in her eyes. Kindling that fire further, Mariko halted Sophie, took her by her shoulders, and kissed her deeply.
"Mh!" Sophie mewed, a little taken off guard. "Mmmhhhhh..." She found her arms pressed between her chest and Mariko's, and - lightly restrained - she blushed at Mariko's kiss.

"Y-you're an asshole..." Sophie mumbled when Mariko pulled away.
"Why?" Mariko asked, her jade eyes glittering.
"'Cause you just, like, take me like that..." She looked up. Sophie wasn't short by any stretch of the imagination, but she still had to look up at a fairly sharp angle to meet her lover's eyes. "You make me feel all...dainty..."
"Is that bad?"
"No." Sophie smiled, perhaps a little too widely. "You're tall, you're powerful... you know I love being your little lady," she said, exaggerating her accent's valley-girl twang. Mariko began to smile back, but something seemed to occur to her. Something in Sophie's tone had been off.

"Hmm..." Mariko narrowed her eyes. "Do my accomplishments bother you?"
"What? Like, am I jealous?"
"No, not like that. But, well, after what happened to us, after Hades... oh, how do I express this...?" She fixed Sophie with an intense look. "Had I not had my successes in the Pauldron, I can imagine very easily my confidence in my abilities being shaken. You've been as capable as ever, but it's been more or less business as usual, hasn't it?"
"What's your point?"
"Well, I'm concerned that in the absence of so obvious a counterpoint for what happened with Hades...well, you know you've compared yourself with me unfavourably before." This time Sophie's smile was genuine. Intuitive empathy was very difficult for Mariko, so she made up for it with analysis and calculation, and this was something her lover had always appreciated.

"You're worried I'm gonna do what Insyte did," Sophie said.
"Not as such, but..." Mariko shrugged. "You can be rather down on yourself, my love." She stroked Sophie's cheek. "More people than just me would suffer from the loss of Enhancegirl." Sophie was surprised at how much of a relief it was to hear this.
"You know a compliment I don't think people give each other enough?" Sophie said.
"Hm?"
"'You're kind'. People never say that. You're kind, Mariko."
"I'm learning," Mariko said. "I do have a very good tutor, after all."
"Damn straight. Now, if you'd like to make out with me some more, I...uh, wouldn't object."

It was rather galling for the two young women that it was at this very moment that they found themselves interrupted by an explosion.
"What the fuck?!" Sophie gasped. It had not been a very large explosion, but it had been an explosion nonetheless. Naturally rather startled, she almost turned her powers on, but they were right in the open: anyone might see.

As the dust from the blast cleared, the heroines realised that it had not really been an explosion at all. The storefront of a little music shop had been smashed into rubble, as though a car had crashed through it from the inside. Even as Mariko and Sophie approached, others did too, eager to help anyone who might need helping. It soon, however, became clear quite how unwise their courage was.

"HUUUAARRGHH!!" What of the storefront had remained was obliterated by a huge hulk of a man bursting out from within. The stone crumbled to dust, bouncing off his offensively muscular frame. He wielded a huge mace in one hand, fingers like great, gristly sausages gripping it. "Run! Run, all of you! Aahahahaha!"
"Hold on a minute," Mariko said, "I know him."

It had been quite some time since Spectra had last crossed swords with Hammerblow, one of the members of the Catastrophe Gang, not since she and Sophie had been in the clutches of Madam Black. The huge man was possessed not only of great strength, but also some kind of adaptive ability that made it hard to put him down the same way twice.

"What the hell is he doing?" Sophie watched Hammerblow swinging his great mace around, but he seemed to be directing it to very little purpose. "There's nothing here worth robbing."
"That may not be his aim," Mariko said. "But he needs to be stopped nevertheless." In the general confusion, Mariko realised that it would be unlikely that either of them would be spotted turning on their powers.
"Yeah, right. Let's waste his ass. Enhance!" No-one noticed the redhead turning on her powers, her skirt and blouse vanishing, replaced in an instant with her gold dress, silver boots and red mask that were the warrant of Enhancegirl. She burst into a dash, but arrested herself in short order when she realised that she was going forward alone.

"Uh, are you not gonna help?" Strong as he was, Sophie knew that Hammerblow wouldn't have stood a chance against Spectra. But Mariko made no signs of having any intention to fight.
"With one of Seacouver's greatest heroes abroad? What would be the point?" Mariko arched an eyebrow.
"I can't tell if you're being really sweet or really fucking condescending," Sophie replied, smirking. "Fine. You just stand here and look pretty."
"It wasn't meant to be either..." Mariko muttered, as her lover leapt into battle.

"Ahaha! What a day!" Hammerblow cackled to himself, smashing his mace onto the ground. His destruction seemed truly aimless. With Mindblow and Catastrophe in prison, Angermax mysteriously absent, and Big Shot rumoured dead, it was as if he'd simply had nothing better to do. He definitely noticed Enhancegirl as the foul-mouthed belle approached him, but he kept on just...smashing.

"Hey!" Enhancegirl called out. "You couldn't have done this in, like, not the middle of a city? You want to smash stuff up, why don't you join a hockey team, or something?"
"Youuuu!" Hammerblow turned, smiling a great toothy grin at his opponent. "I know you! You're...a hero!"
"So they tell me." As she got closer, she used her vastly enhanced senses to scan Hammerblow for any conceivable advantage. His skin was difficult to see through, unusually thick, but by no means comparable to heavyweights like Imperion or even Titania. He was strong, though, extremely strong. Not quite Valora, perhaps, but not too far off from her.

"So, is there a plan, or...?" Enhancegirl was very dubious indeed that he was truly as aimless as he seemed. As well as scanning Hammerblow himself, she was checking every nook and cranny her powerful senses could reach for some sort of backup or support. Yet none could she find. It seemed he really was just...going on a rampage.
"A plan? Hmm..." The way he spoke, the way he moved, it didn't seem as if he was stupid exactly, just that everything ticked over very slowly. "Oh! Wait, what did they say...um..." He reached into the back pocket of his thick, dark green jumpsuit, pulled out a piece of paper.

"Let's see here...uh...'Step one: cause ruckus in middle of Seacouver'." He looked up, nodded with satisfaction. "'Step two: attract attention of local heroes.'" He looked up again at Enhancegirl, gave her a thumbs up. "'Step three: if it's a guy, kill them. If it's a girl..." He looked at Sophie again, and the expression on his face was no longer quite so amusingly dense. "Bring her to the Master."
"Oh shit..." It was not that Sophie was afraid of Hammerblow, exactly. While a dangerous opponent, she was confident that she could defeat him. It was just that this was not the first time in the last few weeks she had heard those five words from a supervillain.

Hammerblow raised his great mace high, and let out a loud laugh, before saying the words which Sophie dreaded even more than those which had come before:
"For Lord Hadeeeeeeeeeeessss!"
"Jesus Christ!" Sophie's cry was not intended to assert theological disagreement: it was merely an exclamation of surprise at a strike that came down much faster than she'd expected. She dodged it right enough, but tarmac was sent flying in all directions, her balletic agility the only thing allowing her to avoid the fragments.

It was, alas, not the first time that Sophie or Mariko had heard a villain in the last few weeks declare such allegiance. It seemed that, now that the secret was out, Hades was rather keen on spreading the brand. Attacks on superheroes, violent robberies, bombings - even the previous week's assassination of Senator Arlington - all led back either to a mad fanatic to, or more commonly someone perfectly willing to admit they had been assisted by, Hades. It was as though in defeating Hades, Imperion had lanced a boil, and spread its diseased foulness all about him.

Indeed, it seemed that everyone, from Seacouver to Vancouver, shared in the soul of Persephone, so fearful had they become of the name 'Hades'. Many of the bystanders had been quite willing to risk life and limb to help anyone trapped or injured when they'd thought Hammerblow's attack a mere accident. However, upon hearing Hammerblow's dedication, a ripple of fear spread through the people of Seacouver. But young though she was, Enhanegirl was not cowed: it took more than a name to put fear into her heart. She clenched a fist, and readied herself to do battle.

Meanwhile, alarmed by his apparent increase in power, and more than alarmed by the declaration of Hammerblow's loyalties, Mariko started forward. She assumed Sophie wouldn't be stupid enough to be insulted if she stepped in following that revelation, but as she ran ahead, Sophie briefly looked back at her, shook her head.
"This one's mine," her eyes seemed to say. Mariko frowned deeply, but respected Sophie's wish.

"You shouldn't have mentioned who you work for, Hammerblow. Now you've fucking guaranteed I'm not gonna feel bad when I kick your ass!" As Hammerblow raised his mace once again, Enhancegirl didn't hesitate for an instant. Snatching up a piece of broken masonry, she squeezed it slightly, testing it, before hurling it right at Hammerblow's face. Surprisingly, the giant moved his mace in the way fairly quickly, blocking the piece of stone with the handle of his weapon.

If, however, he'd thought much about Sophie's capabilities at all, then he'd sorely underestimated her. The masonry split neatly down the middle, and both halves sailed straight on. Enhancegirl hadn't been able to predict Hammerblow's movements well enough to ensure both pieces were on target: one bounced off the villain's cheek, harmlessly. The other, however, struck him very hard in the eye.

"OW!" Hammerblow yelped, like a startled Rottweiler. "Ahh, my eye! Ow! Oh, man, OW!" He stumbled backwards, in incredible pain. Sophie had hit him about as hard as one would throw a baseball. It hadn't taken much for her to realise that only his skin was reinforced: his eyes were as vulnerable as anyone else's would be. As he stumbled, Sophie pressed her attack, vaulting off the head of his mace, and delivering a vicious strike with her calf to Hammerblow's ear. The actual skin of his ear wasn't penetrated, but she could see the damage she'd done to his eardrum. He tried to grab her, but the nimble heroine was out of the way long before his flailing hand reached the spot where she'd been.

"Damn it, stop doing that!" Hammerblow barked. "You're really annoying!"
"If you start wrecking people's cities, don't be surprised when they try to beat you up, dickweed."
"Nobody calls me 'dickweed'!" He swung his mace at her, but she easily leapt over it, and through his legs. She stabbed backwards with the heel of her boot, catching him in the joint at the back of his knee.
"Aaaaaarrgghhhh!!" he screamed, uncomprehending of how the slender girl was causing him so much pain.

In fact, the answer was quite simple. Sophie had used her heightened senses to determine that his skin, while very strong, was 'designed' more to deflect stabbing weapons, or to dissipate energy attacks. Blunt force, while it couldn't damage his skin directly with Sophie's level of strength, could hurt what was underneath his hide. Joints, ears, the softer parts of the human body - Sophie could hurt him.
"You're tough," she said, "but you're nothing compared to your boss." Sophie saw that others were watching her battle, and she couldn't help feel a degree of satisfaction. She saw Mariko watching her too, saw her pumping her fist with every blow Enhancegirl landed. That was extremely satisfying. Even when they fought together, Sophie thought, she never had sufficient opportunities to show off to her girlfriend.

"Stop wriggling around!" Hammerblow barked. "If I bring you back damaged, the boss isn't going to - AARRGH!" Sophie had kicked Hamerblow in the armpit, which was surprisingly painful.
"You're not 'bringing' me anywhere. You're going the fuck down." She looked him right in the eye. "And you know what? It's gonna hurt. It's gonna hurt a lot. Normally I try to knock people out pretty quick, but you? I don't think I'm strong enough to knock you unconscious. So I'm just going to have to hurt you really fucking bad."
"I'll crush you before you can -"
"How?" Enhancegirl said, quite simply. "I've fought enemies faster than you who couldn't touch me. You'll never be able to lay a finger on me, like a bear trying to fight a fly. Actually...maybe a hornet would be closer." She bolted forward with astonishing speed, grabbed the handle of Hammerblow's mace, and swung herself over it like a gymnast, kicking Hammerblow in both eyes with her feet, and then vaulting back off him with her balletic agility.

"AUUGHHHH!!" Hammerblow had closed his eyes this time, but the skin of his eyelids wasn't enough to protect him from the pain of Sophie's devastatingly accurate attacks. He dropped his mace, and fell back, clutching his eyes.
"This is my city," Enhancegirl said. She grinned, filled with adrenaline-fuelled delight at the prospect of her victory and satisfaction with her own skill. "And I'm the law around here, see?" she said, affecting an Edward G. Robinson-ish accent. Cheers of assent went up from the crowd. "Nyeeeh!"
"Oh, you are silly, my love," Mariko thought, not bothering to suppress a smile.

But Hammerblow was not quite done yet. The giant lumbered to his feet and let out a half-roar, half-whine.
"You're not supposed to be able to hurt me! I'll smash you to pieces, d'you hear?" He dropped down to all fours, bellowed like a bull, and seemed intent to begin charging like one - but he was never given the opportunity. A beam of energy shot out, and struck him right between the eyes. He was stopped cold, and - while Sophie might not have been able to knock him out - this attack had him seeing stars in an instant.

Sophie stared for a moment, and then turned, furious. Right on the point of a much needed victory, Spectra had stolen her thunder at the very last moment. Uncomprehending as to why Mariko would have done such a thing, glared at her - but found her lover just as uncomprehending as herself. She, and the rest of the bystanders, were looking upwards.

"Take that!" A woman with thick, flowing blonde hair, in a skintight red outfit was hovering above the battle. She was very short, scarcely five feet tall, and her hair was so long it actually tickled the back of her knees, her pretty legs completely exposed by her outfit. "Another blow for just - oh!" She looked down, and for the first time saw Enhancegirl. "Uh, sorry, did I muscle in?"

"God fucking damn it," Sophie muttered. Aloud she said: "Don't worry about it, Gallantria!" Enhancegirl knew of her: this superheroine had, until recently, been a local hero in Nevada, but apparently had upped sticks to Seacouver.
"Oh, super!" She floated down, apparently happy as a lamb. With slow flight, and low-level energy powers, Gallantria was considered something of a poor-man's Nova - her reputation not helped by the fact that she was, alas, somewhat dim. But she was well-meaning, and had distinguished herself by fighting a courageous, though hopeless, battle against Apollyon the Sun Man. Sophie, therefore, elected to be civil, shaking her hand, welcoming her to Seacouver's cape community.

Mariko was not impressed, and she glowered at Gallantria.
"I'll be damned if you didn't realise what you did..." she thought. Felling Hammerblow, and now associating herself with Enhancegirl who, by now, was one of the city's most famous heroes - it was the perfect way to kick-start her reputation in a new city. She was extremely irritated that, still in her civilian guise, she couldn't tell Gallantria off herself. Not only that, but she was incensed that Gallantria had denied Sophie a 'clean' win. "That was just what she needed!" she growled, internally, thinking not only of Sophie's reputation, but also her mental state.

"What are you doing in Seacouver?" Sophie asked the small blonde, after exchanging pleasantries.
"Well, y'know," she replied, "what Hades said about superheroes 'n' stuff - it really pissed me off, y'know? So I thought I'd, y'know, stick it to him!"
"Good for you, sister," Enhancegirl replied. "Just watch your back, okay? This city - this whole state - has been really fucked up lately."

Little did she know how right she was. With her enhanced senses, Sophie saw him coming, but such was her perplexity at what she perceived that she thought there was something wrong with her.
"Aha!" With a sound like three cars screeching to a halt, a man in an inexcusably garish purple-and-red bodysuit zoomed onto the scene of the finished battle at high speed, at least ninety miles an hour - on foot. "Now, villain, it's time for Celeritas to - aw, son of a bitch!" He crossed his arms, and audibly harrumphed. "God damn it, how come every time I turn up for a fight it's already over?"


Enhancegirl and Gallantria stared at him in perplexity.
"Oh, uh, hi." He waved sheepishly. "Uh, I'm new. I run fast? Pretty cool power, got it in an accident with a ferret and -" He threw up his hands. "You know what? Forget it." He kicked the floor. "Stupid...Seacouver..."
"We really need to work out a better system..." Sophie groaned. She hadn't been interrupted mid-fight by two heroes before, but these sorts of interferences were becoming increasingly common. Seacouver already had the densest superhero population of any city in America, but it had become noticeably more crowded. If Hades had tried to frighten the superhuman population of Seacouver and its surrounding conurbations away, she had failed spectacularly. A monster will always attract knights errant, after all - and the prospect of being the knight to slay this particular dragon had brought superhumans from far and wide.

It wasn't just pride, either. Hades had stabbed at the very heart of what it was to be a superhero, in the city that had become emblematic of their kind. In rushing to it, a superhero could spit in the face of not only Hades, but any detractor. More than a few critics had taken up Hades' logic - that superheroes were essentially useless - and their appearing here staved off a sort of crisis of morale that might have been.

Mariko viewed all of this with great distaste. It was...unseemly, this swarm. As Spectra, she might have been able to use her reputation to manage things a little, perhaps assure the wider superhero community that things were in hand and the glut was unnecessary. But, though still beloved by its citizens, Mariko realised with more sadness than she expected that she was no longer Seacouver's champion. Her duties as a member of the Pauldron didn't permit her to be so provincial. She was glad that, as Gallantria had said, people had begun to think of Enhancegirl as being the city's representative - she just wished Sophie wasn't so devil-may-care about her reputation.

Indeed, she had tarried with her lover too long. Being Spectra was no longer something she could decide when and where to do - it was her job now, and she had a boss to answer to. She'd been told to meet Chryseis and Nova for a mission, and she was already in danger of being late. She couldn't wait for Sophie to disentangle herself from her present situation, and she slipped away. Enhancegirl, with her powerful vision, saw her leaving - a moment later, she received this message:
"Forgiveness, please. Must go. Love you with all my heart; galling that those feckless goons interrupted you." Sophie smiled at Mariko's brusque affection, not paying attention as Celeritas made a bewilderingly incompetent pass at Gallantria. She hated seeing her lover go, but she could hardly complain. She herself had set aside the rest of her day for coursework - but there was one stop she wanted to make first.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Life had not been altogether easy for Leanne Kalua for the past few weeks. Nor would it have been for anybody at the Penitentiary Supreme: the world's foremost superhuman prison. The mischievous, supple criminal with her long, green hair - who had once gone by the name of Corporal Chupacabra - cut a nervous figure as she moved towards the recreation area.

"Stupid jail..." she muttered. "Stupid jumpsuit...I look like such a hag..." As it happened, the particular subsection of the Pen-Supreme that Leanne was held in had jumpsuits that almost exactly matched in colour Leanne’s long hair. It was quite tight, to make it difficult to conceal any weapons or other unwanted items. Other than that, all the slender criminal - of such fetchingly ambiguous ethnicity – wore was a collar around her neck.

It was because of the collars that she and the others wore that there were not constant, violent riots. They didn’t suppress the prisoners’ powers, exactly – there was no one way of doing that – but it…well, it was an effective deterrent. Leanne moved with her hands manacled behind her, magnetic cuffs binding her arms, further eliminating any possibility of violence. As soon as she entered the dining hall, however, she felt her wrists freed, automatically released. Her nervousness didn’t decrease one whit.

The design of the Penitentiary Supreme had been quite clever – as much natural light was allowed in as possible, so the dining hall didn’t look anywhere near as depressing as it might have done. However, it was still a prison, and Leanne never forgot that for an instant. In her dreams, she was a star, dazzling Broadway audiences. In the cold light of day, however, she was a shackled, powerless prisoner.

“Hey, Chupa,” an older woman, already eating, said as Leanne passed her. The young thief gave a genuine smile back.
“Hey, Smokin’,” she replied. This was not a comment on the woman’s attractiveness – she was called ‘Smokin’’ because when she had finished murdering her boyfriend, she had left his corpse steaming and charcoaled thanks to her powers over fire. It said something about the quality of this man, however, that Smokin’ had only been sentenced to five years imprisonment for killing him.

Leanne collected her food, and sat with Smokin’. She glanced over her shoulder constantly, aware of the number of looks that her trim figure was attracting. In her particular subsection, for female prisoners of low-to-medium power, and short-to-medium term sentences, she was probably among the five best looking women there – and that was not something which gave her a great deal of pride. Outside the Pen-Supreme, she was rather tickled when someone gawked at her, but here…it just made her feel all the more vulnerable.

“So my cellmate had another fit last night,” Smokin’ said.
“Huh?” Leanne hadn’t been listening. She noticed that a few women on one of the other tables were giving her the eye. She didn’t know quite what their intentions were, but she tried to avoid their gaze in either case. "Sorry, what were you saying?"
"My cellmate had another fit. She keeps turning on her powers in her sleep, and the collar keeps zapping her. I swear, she gotta sue somebody when she gets out, man."
"Right..." Leanne looked down. "Um, Smokin', is there someone coming towards us?" The thick-set woman looked over Chupacabra's shoulder. "Oh, shit..."

Gridiron was, outside of the walls of the Penitentiary Supreme, not perhaps the most formidable villainess of them all. Essentially a heavy for a small-time mob in San Bernadino, her only power was that her skeleton was far, far stronger than a normal person's. However, in the jail, with none of her fellow prisoners able to use their powers, this ability - which could not really be repressed or turned off - made her one of the toughest in her section. She had a couple of acolytes, but even if she hadn't, no-one was willing to mess with her.

"How's it going, Chupa?" Gridiron said. "Someone as pretty as you shouldn't be hiding away in her cell all day." She sat down, put her pale, muscular arm around Chupacabra's shoulder. The green haired girl flinched.
"H-hi, Gridiron," she mumbled. "Um, having a good day, and...um, stuff?"
"I am now, sweetie," she said, beginning to run her hand up and down Leanne's back. Smokin' clenched her teeth, and was about to leap to her friend's defence, but Leanne caught her eye, shook her head. The last person who'd fought Gridiron had been in the infirmary for a week.

"You know, Chupa," Gridiron said, "some of the girls were wondering - how do you get your hair to stay that colour? I mean, they don't exactly let us use hair-dye in here."
"It's...um...it's not dyed..." Leanne said. "It's natural."
"Oh, that is interesting!" Gridiron ran her fingers through Leanne's hair. "I wonder...is it the same colour all over?" Her hand began to move down Leanne's neck. The young woman quivered. "Oh, you're a nervous little thing, aren't you? Don't worry, I'll give you a lot more confidence by the time I'm -"

Gridiron was most displeased when someone tapped her on the shoulder.
"Hey! I'm in the middle of something right - ARGH!" Whoever it was who had tapped her had escalated things rather quickly, grabbing her by her short, brown hair, and hauling her up to her feet. Momentarily too shocked to make use of her impressive strength, Gridiron howled with anger. "You stupid bi - OOOOF!"
"Not too many bones in the stomach, are there?" said the woman who'd just driven her knee into Gridiron's midsection.
"Cat!"

Catherine, or Commander Caitiff, or Gel-Belle, was not perhaps quite as attractive as her green-haired friend, but she was taller and, more importantly perhaps, quite a lot physically stronger. Her long, mauve hair was beginning to fade to its natural brown, but she was still quite a sight - and apparently more than a match for Gridiron, who collapsed, wheezing, to her knees.
"C'mon, Leanne," Catherine said. "You don't have to take that shit from her."
"Well, it's not my fault I'm so hot!" Leanne shot back, grinning. "I mean, who wouldn't want to spend a bit of time with El Chupacabra?" Her confidence was restored the instant her friend appeared. She leapt up, and delivered a terrific punch to one of Gridiron's lackeys, sending her sprawling onto the ground. "That's what you get, shit-heel!"
"That's more like it," Catherine said. She was always pleased to see how happy her presence made Leanne, but she knew the girl relied on her too much. She dreaded to think what would have happened if they hadn't been put in the same place after their arrest.

"Hey!" Belatedly, one of the guards had noticed the fracas. "Break it up right now, or I trigger the necklaces of every single one of you!" Even without the collars around their necks, this woman was not one to be trifled with. Her skin shone silver, her body transformed into living metal. No guard at the Penitentiary Supreme was not a superhuman themselves.
"Whatever you say, boss," Gridiron groaned, getting back to her feet. "This isn't over," the villain said.
"Oh, I hope not," Catherine retorted, as Gridiron and her flunkies slunk away. "Asshole..."

It was an odd little world that Catherine and Leanne had been forced to inhabit. With the cliques, the gangs, the constant threat of physical reprisal, and the authority of the guards barking orders at them, it felt like a souped up version of high school. The only difference was that Catherine felt like she deserved the suffering she was enduring here.
"Five years of it..." It was hard to imagine spending the rest of her twenties shut up in this place. Leanne had got a much lighter sentence - only a year and a half - in part thanks to Catherine confessing to everything of which they were accused. She'd even testified against Raymond Parr, fellow alumnus of the Fiendish Five, in exchange for the lightening of Leanne's sentence.

"I thought you were in solitary," Leanne asked, as the two sat down together. "I mean, like, obviously they let you out - but why?"
"'Cause I'm such a sweetheart, obviously," she said, raising a fork to her mouth. "Oh, god..." Something of a gourmand, Catherine had yet to be able to stomach the 'food' they were given.
"Hey, I don't know what you're complaining about," Smokin' laughed. "After ten years of a man who expects a three course meal every night, someone else making food for me is like being in a fucking hotel."

For about ten minutes or so, the three women ate, talked, laughed - almost felt like normal people having a normal meal together. But every so often the collars would itch, the cuffs around their ankles and wrists would squeeze a little tighter, threatening at any moment to slam together and remind them of what they truly were.

A klaxon went off: back to their cells. The convicts began their weary trudge into line, under the watchful eye of the prison's guards. Leanne made sure to stand close to Catherine, but even so she felt unsafe. Her friend looked back at her, eyes full of affection and guilt. With the sway she had over the bright-eyed girl, she could have persuaded her to escape a criminal life innumerable times, but she hadn't. She'd kept her around because Leanne made her feel like she wasn't a total degenerate. And because, well...
"Well, it doesn't really need saying, does it?"

Leanne didn't understand the complexity of Catherine's feelings: she was just loyal to her, and comforted by her presence. She wondered how she would cope when she was out and Catherine was stuck there. She looked down - and it was only that which saved her friend's life.
"Shit!" She saw the blade coming towards Catherine, and reacted instinctively. She grabbed the wrist of the one wielding it, slammed it against the nearest surface and - true to her nom de plume - began sucking dry the energy of her attacker.

Catherine was stunned. She'd barely registered what had just happened - Leanne was damned quick when she wanted to be. It was one of Gridiron's flunkies who'd tried to attack her, and she was just as bewildered as Catherine.
"No-one does that to her, d'you hear me?" Leanne hissed. "No-one -"

She hadn't noticed at first. With the rush of energy flowing into her body as she drained the one who'd dared to attack Catherine, she felt stronger for the first couple of seconds. But that rush had also masked the discomfort of the gossamer thin needles which, coming out of her collar, had pierced the skin of her neck. She began to feel the effects of what they'd injected into her, though.

"Oh...crap..." Neurally keyed into her brainwave patterns, the collar had automatically activated the instant she'd switched on her powers, and it had just laced her bloodstream with a powerful sedative. She clung on tighter, the woman who'd attacked Catherine almost comatose as Chupacabra tried to draw in as much energy as she could to keep herself awake.

But it wasn't working. She began to feel dizzy, her vision getting fuzzy. Her fingers slipped from her target, and she stumbled backwards. No longer drawing in power, the effects of the drug grew more and more potent.
"Unnhh...I feel...weird..." she mumbled, losing track of where she was and what was happening. She fell back against a dining table, holding onto it with one hand for support. She felt drowzy, light-headed, and increasingly weak.

Catherine watched her naive friend being sedated, suffering because of her defence of her. She'd have leapt to her aid - but by that time, the guards had stepped in. They seemed to understand what was happening, since most of their attention was on restraining the woman who had attacked Catherine. But she hadn't used her powers - Leanne had, and at the Penitentiary Supreme nothing brought with it greater sanction.

"Cat...help me..." Leanne moaned, too quietly to be heard. "I'm...uh...weak..." Her arms fell to her sides, her knees turned inwards. She wanted to reach out to Catherine but she couldn't raise her arm. "Oohh..." She slumped down onto her knees, her perky breasts jiggling visibly in her tight jumpsuit. "Unhh...ghh..aahhhhnnn..." With a little shiver, Chupacabra found her eyes fluttering shut. "No...I don't want to...sleep..." But resistance was useless. The green-haired girl, fell slowly but inexorably down, floating almost, landing flat on her front. She was completely unconscious, lying still and vulnerable, her long tresses a veil for her pretty face.

Catherine's instinct was to push past the guards, but she wouldn't have lasted a second. She watched her friend's arms magnetically drawn together, her 'bracelets' clamping into one thick metal clamp binding her arms behind her back up to her elbows, her ankles the same, the sleeping girl now shackled hand and foot like a slave-girl. And all because she'd done something decent.
"She tried to help me!" she shouted, as one of the guards picked up the limp maiden, using her great strength to toss her helpless body over her shoulder. "I would have died if she hadn't used her powers!"
"We get it," a nearby guard said. This was Ramona Thompson, the most powerful of the guards of that section, a rare example of a straightforward telekinetic. "Rules are rules, Catherine - but I'll talk to the warden. I know she was just trying to protect you, so I'll try to make sure she's not in solitary for too long." Catherine nodded. She had a few things to complain about in her jail - but the guards weren't among them.

Unbeknownst to Catherine, however, Leanne had seen something, just before passing out, something that just didn't look quite right. Was it one of the guards? No. It was one of the prisoners, someone whom she'd seen in the line. Some of the others were shouting, most shouting abuse at the woman who'd attacked Catherine, some at Leanne, some at the guards. One of them, however, was very, very quiet. She was tall, thin, with thick white hair, almost silvery skin. She was absolutely, stunningly beautiful. Yet none of the others even seemed to notice she was there.
"She's so pretty..." Leanne had thought. She'd not had the presence of mind to wonder why she'd never spotted her before.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Hi Sophie!" A slightly overweight woman greeted the slender girl as she sauntered in, familiar enough with the procedures, even as she was patted down - perhaps just a little too eagerly - by the institute's security.
"Hey, Sandy," Sophie replied cheerfully. "Any major fuckery since last time?"
"Fuckery's been pretty low-key, actually," Sandy replied. "He's already in the visitor's area if you want to go inside." She didn't bother asking Sophie to sign the form: the redhead did it without thinking, so used was she to the procedures.

She was escorted up into the third floor, going up a glass-covered elevator on the outside of the building. Sophie didn't know this, but the building she was in had been designed by Natalya Nazarov, who had a penchant for exposed lifts in her designs. Her boss had taken the credit, of course, but Natalya had still been proud. Sophie didn't really notice: she didn't have much of an eye for architecture.

She walked out into the familiar, clinically clean corridors of the institute, always slightly nervous on entering such a place. After all, if the administrators thought you deserved to be there, only they could decide to let you out. She imagined giving an account of her life to them:
"I'm a nineteen year old college student who fights crime with superpowers, which I don't know how I have, and my girlfriend is a Japanese supermodel, who also has superpowers. Oh, and one time me and my friends got kidnapped by a vampire. Why are you getting out the straitjackets?"

She would not have been the only insane superhuman committed at that place - for Sophie was visiting the Methos Institute, one of the only mental hospitals in America which had a specialised division for dealing with superhuman inmates. There were several reasons why specialised institutes were seen as increasingly necessary: the first was obvious - a mentally disturbed superhuman could be incredibly dangerous. However, there was more to it than that. The life of a superhero could be a very traumatic one: several patients at the Institute, for instance, were former victims of Lord Delirious, the terrifying madman who had, it was said, even been able to defeat and imprison Imperion. Not only that, but there were all sorts of deleterious effects that superpowers could have on a person's mental state. A woman with supernaturally powerful hearing had been admitted because she was becoming intensely paranoid; a powerful pyrokinetic man had become hysterically obsessed with the idea that his powers had a will of their own, and were trying to kill his parents.

And then there was Quentin Dagless. He was certainly the most famous inmate - for one thing, he had been there since the Institute's inception, and for another he had been the inspiration for the film that had catapulted a young Jim Jarmusch to fame: The Last Sane Man.
"Hey Mr Dagless!" Sophie called out, as she passed his room. She hadn't been able to resist introducing herself on previous visits.
"Hello, Ms. Scott," he replied. He was floating a few inches above the ground. Quentin Dagless was a polite, well-educated, calm and erudite man. Added to that, he had acquired the gift of flight relatively late into his life for a genetic superhuman - and he refused to believe it.

"I can fly? Don't be ridiculous," was his repeated refrain, even when he was thirty feet in the air. "Only a child would believe such patent nonsense." This stubbornness had developed into skepticism about the existence of all superhumans: he would not acknowledge their existence. This was, however, mostly a harmless delusion, but for the fact that he would sometimes start floating away, and refuse to do anything about it. Normally he lived at home, given drugs to suppress his powers, and was perfectly functional, if eccentric. However, the drugs were dangerous if taken constantly, and while his system rested, he was under the supervision of the Methos Institute.

However, it was not even this relative celebrity that Sophie had come to visit. As she was escorted into the visiting lounge - several muscular orderlies watching over the patients there - she saw a very, very strange man.
"God's wounds!" cried a tall, black haired man with a huge chin and two rows of large, white teeth. He was addressing a small, fifty year old woman, a normal human patient. "Those foolish heroes have undone themselves! For you see, in sending me here, they have given me access to the finest minds in all villainy! Veritably, this is a palace of convalescence from which I shall draw the new members of my Fiendish Five! So speaks Captain Cur!"
"God damn it," Sophie sighed. "He hasn't got any better..."

Since Sophie's first encounter with Captain Cur, she had visited the crazed villain a few times - though she didn't really consider him a villain. Granted a strange, transformative ability by the Fifty Fractals, and driven mad by the vile Greyhand, he had created a false identity for himself as a supervillain, only to be talked into surrendering himself by Sophie.
"Ah, my nemesis returns!" Cur said, as Sophie sat down with him. He was seated at a white table, in a white chair, with two white orderlies in white outfits behind him. "Do not think that I have forgotten how you vanquished me, cunning maiden!" Though clearly always disturbed, in his villainous regalia he'd had a kind of rakish nobility about him - he believed in the act quite completely, and played the part with audacious chutzpah.

But now? His hair was cut too short, too boyishly for his middle-aged face. He was wearing a t-shirt and plain, comfortable trousers. He looked reduced, thin. It occurred to Sophie that Cur had formerly used his powers to bulk himself up - not only was he less muscular, he seemed less tall, too. There were bags under his eyes, and his hands were fidgeting constantly.

"Now, Rupert, what have we talked about?" There was a greying man sitting at his left, in a white coat. This was Doctor Wingfield, who was in charge of Cur's case. Rupert Scott was Cur's real name, the coincidence prompting Sophie to explain her visits by saying she was a distant cousin. "This woman isn't your enemy."
"Aha! You may say so, Wingfield, but -" A strange look came over him. The whole aspect of his face shifted. "Uh...yes, indeed. Not...uh...not my enemy."
"Glad you think so," Sophie said, smiling at him. "How've you been, Doctor Arrhenius?" When Rupert had been a superhero, albeit not a particularly beloved or successful one, that had been his nom de plume. It felt to Sophie like a possible bridge between his mad persona and his true self.

"Why you insist on using that name, I will never understand," Rupert replied. "But if you must know, my plans continue apace! For you see, that portly dunderhead there -" He paused, indicating one of the orderlies, who was not altogether happy to be so described. "I have discovered that this man is, in fact, a direct descendant of Harold Godwinson, making him the true heir to the throne of England!"
"Um, Doctor, could we talk about -"
"Now I know what you are thinking! 'England has a constitutional monarchy! Your heir will not be able to wield supreme power in the fashion you will desire!' But of course -
"Rupert." Wingfield put a hand on his shoulder. "That's just Keith. He's not an heir to the British throne. He's just someone who works here." He closed his eyes, the hand on Cur's shoulder glowing slightly. Arrhenius had had a wild, desperate look in his eye, but now it seemed to calm. Wingfield nodded at Sophie, prompting her to try again.

"Well, um...I was wondering something," Sophie asked, pulling something out of her satchel. "Genius that I am, I took a chemistry class this year. I got pretty good grades in high school, so I thought I could do it, but...turns out I 100% suck. Could you...maybe help me?" She put a journal in front of him, and a pen. He peered at the journal for a moment, blinking. Suddenly, a wide toothy grin. He snatched up the pen and began scribbling away at high speed.
"Ha! Simplicity itself!" Rupert said, with an almost childish glee on his face. "I was solving problems like this when I was in grade school!" Sophie had given him some rather fiendish analytical problems of chemistry, something that MA students at Seacouver U were given, but he was tearing through them with ease.

For Rupert Scott had once been a professional chemist. 'Arrhenius' might have been an invented name, but he really did have a doctorate. It had been Sophie's idea to try to condition Rupert to think in ways more familiar to his pre-Cur life, without immediately making him immediately confront the trauma of what had driven him mad in the first place. Seeing that he was fully occupied, Sophie beckoned to Wingfield, to speak to him privately.

"Thank you for continuing to come," Wingfield said. "It's really important that he has as much genuine human connection as possible."
"Don't worry about it," Sophie said. She was frowning. "It doesn't seem like he's getting any better. I mean, at least he's not freaking out like last time, but..."
"Sophie, your uh, 'uncle', is severely traumatised." Wingfield removed his glasses, cleaned them on the end of his coat. "I wouldn't expect him to show signs of getting better for a very long time. He has moments of lucidity, remembrance - but they're almost always accompanied by a violent fit. His mind seems very, very keen not to remember."
"Because of what happened to him? The Fractals, and seeing that guy kill his cat?" Wingfield shrugged in response.
"It's more than that." He sat down, and beckoned Sophie to do the same.

"He was very unstable," Wingfield said. "Even before the events that prompted his delusion, he was a disturbed and deeply unhappy man. That's what his medical history tells me, at least. He had no real friendships, no wife, no children - it's going to be very difficult to motivate him to throw off this delusion, when there really isn't much for him to go back to if he does get well. Ah, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." Sophie had not particularly betrayed signs of emotion, but Wingfield didn't need her to. He was a superhuman: an empath, to be precise. He could sense the emotions of those around him, and even control them if he touched them - that was how he had tranquillised his patient before.

"I'm alright," Sophie said. "I just...when I got him to come here I thought I was helping him." Wingfield's power made him impossible to lie to convincingly. He knew, and she knew he knew, that she was not his niece.
"You were. His delusion gives him shallow comfort, but I can sense that he's still in terrible pain underneath it. But," he said, smiling, "he lit up when you gave him those exercises to do. That was a fine idea."
"Thanks, Timothy," Sophie said. She rose. "I'm sorry I can't stay longer, I was just kinda stopping by to check in on him."
"It's appreciated nevertheless. I'll see you later, Sophie."
"Sure, just..." She looked over at Rupert, still scribbling away at the problems Sophie had given him. "Please do your best for him, okay?"

She rose to leave, and would have marched straight out, but for a shout from the other side of the visiting lounge.
"You little pussy!" Sophie looked over, saw a dumpy, somewhat overweight looking white man, about seventy. He had wispy hair, either heavily dyed or possibly a toupée. His thick lips were pursed into a kind of smug pout, his eyes small, beady, mean. "Why don't you go crying back to your mama, huh?" He growled, and a crackle of red electricity buzzed around his hands.
"Mom's dead, pop," the man sitting with him said. "I'm pretty sure you know that..." Sophie would probably have walked on - but for the fact that she recognised the younger man.
"Imperion!"

It was he: Jackson Morrow, leader of the Pauldron and among the most powerful superhumans in the world. He saw Sophie looking at him, and started, clearly very surprised to see her. Then a look of understanding passed into his eyes, as he remembered what Sophie would be doing at the Methos Institute.

"Well, hello there," he said, his face going from one of weary disdain to the charm and friendliness he normally showed. "Visiting your, uh, friend?" Sophie walked closer.
"Yeah, that's right. Um, what are you doing here?" She couldn't help but feel slightly intimidated in his presence, personable as he was.
"I'm, uh, visiting my dad," he said. "Panhellius is running things today. He made me take a day off, so...here I am." A moment of silence passed. It was awkward to say the least. Having discovered that the one who had tormented her was Jackson's ex-wife, Anya, there were plenty of things she wanted to say, to ask...but she didn't know where to begin.

Eventually it was Jackson's father who broke the silence.
"Hey there, sweetheart!" He said, grinning with such open lecherousness that Sophie actually flinched. "Ah, what's the matter? Any girl in a skirt that short wants it, everyone knows that!" He licked his lips, and Sophie had to resist the urge to strike him.
"Dad!" Imperion growled. "Shut the fuck up!"
"H-hey, it's okay," Sophie said, embarrassed both for herself and for Jackson. "I mean, if he's ill -"
"He's here because he gets panic attacks, and they don't mix well with his electrical power. He's not senile, he's got no excuse for talking to a woman like that."
"Hey, you little shit, don't talk about me like I'm not here!" Imperion's father barked. Several orderlies were eyeing him nervously - but then, what did they have to fear with Imperion present? "Stick me in a loony bin...didn't I ever teach you respect?" The irony was eye-watering.

Sophie had already known that Jackson's father was not very well thought of. Ronnie Morrow liked to style himself as an able businessman, but in reality he'd done very little with the wealth gained by Jackson's grandfather. There were a lot of very dirty rumours about how he had done this, but one way or another he'd been successful, so much so that even Ronnie - a self-aggrandising incompetent - had failed to destroy his legacy completely. But this was...it was like looking at the exact opposite of her own parents.

"I'm sorry, Sophie," Jackson said, continuing to talk as if Ronnie was absent. "I wish we could have met under better circumstances."
"Shut up, kid, let me talk to the lady." Ronnie spat. He looked at Sophie, beckoned to her conspiratorially. "If you don't know, my son here is an absolute fucking disgrace." He looked with venomous disdain at Jackson. "What is he, the third strongest guy in the world? And with all the money that I made -"
"That grandpa made..."
"That I made, he could be living like a king! Women, power, whatever he wants! But nooooo!" He shook his head. "What does he do? He runs around in a cape with his girlfriends, preening, posing." He shook his head. "Sad."
"Dad doesn't believe in superheroes, you see." Jackson explained.
"You're damned right I don't! You should all be in the army, not...dressing up in tights and jerking yourselves off all day. I have powers. Better than any other electricity user. Everyone said so. Didn't they say so? Everyone said I had the best electric powers."
"Nowhere near," Jackson mouthed to Sophie. Indeed, his electrical powers were formidable, but perhaps half of what Jackson's were.
"Did I dress up in a cape and tights like a pussy? No. I was in the army until they passed that stupid fucking law. What a disgrace. This whole country's a disgrace."

It was like watching a car crash. He was horrible. Sophie felt a kind of toxic miasma choking her, preventing her from just leaving. He was almost...hypnotically vile.
"Hey, maybe you can give him a ride, sweet-cheeks," Ronnie said. "Stop him from being such a little fucking faggot all the time."
"Jesus, dad!"
"Ah, come on, don't you want some of this?" He reached out his clammy, wrinkled hand, and to Sophie's horror, he grabbed her thigh.
"Ew! Get off me you fucking creep!"

The next few moments were...well, they were not simple to describe. All at once, two orderlies rushed forward to restrain Ronnie, Sophie hastily wrenched her leg free, and Jackson himself grabbed his father's hand, forcing it aside. If that had been it, the situation would have been alarming, but not, perhaps, as confusing as it turned out to be. For, upon Sophie's cry, a fourth superhuman entered the situation.

A dark, thick liquid flowed across the room in a great mass, before coalescing into the form of a man with a huge chin and large, white teeth, between Sophie and Ronnie.
"You!" Cur practically screamed at the old man. "You will not touch her! You will not harm her!" To the alarm of all and sundry, his right hand morphed into a long, silvery blade. He raised it high.
"Rupert, no!" Wingfield yelled from across the room, as Imperion leapt up between Cur and his father. Wingfield could sense Cur's burning anger, the instinct to protect. If he'd been close he could have calmed his patient, but he had to be able to touch him.

"Captain, calm down," Sophie said. "He wasn't going to hurt me."
"Nonsense!" Cur said, staring down Imperion. "Your hero's heart does not allow you to see true evil! But I do! As a master villain, I know evil when I see it!"
"Listen, um, Captain, I know my dad's a piece of shit, but I'm not going to -" Cur didn't let him finish, and thrust out with the knife he'd shifted his hand into. Imperion caught it, and moved to turn Cur aside with his vast strength. Yet, to Sophie's astonishment, she saw Cur actually resisting. Yes, Jackson was moving his hand away, but it was taking far, far more effort than it should have done.
"How the hell is Cur that powerful?" Sophie thought. "He...he must be nearly as strong as Hades!"

But he didn't seem able to keep it up for long. After a moment or two, Imperion turned him aside with ease, restraining him.
"Unhand me! You boundah! I should -" Cur found himself decidedly less angry a moment later, when Wingfield put his hand on him. In an instant, he was as tranquil as could be.
"Come on, Rupert," Wingfield said. "Let's take you back to your room, eh?" Naturally, Cur assented. The doctor looked up at Jackson for a moment, about to apologise - and he recoiled. He sensed absolutely furious rage. Jackson looked down at him, saw the doctor's expression.
"I know my father's a piece of crap," Jackson said, "but that doesn't mean I want him dead. If I hadn't been here that li -" He stopped himself. "That man could have killed him!"
"I don't know how to explain it," Wingfield replied. "On the drugs he's on, using his powers should have been impossible." He felt Jackson's emotions cool somewhat.
"Well, change the regimen, yeah?"
"It's a mental hospital full of people with superpowers," Sophie said, recovering from her shock at the rapid series of events. "I'm pretty sure there's no perfect way to run it without just locking everyone in cages." Jackson looked at her for a few seconds before replying.
"Guess you've got a point there." Ronnie was shrunk back in his chair, terrified into silence.


Naturally, visiting hours were ended early. Sophie found herself in the awkward position of walking out not only with a man of Herculean strength, but also her girlfriend's boss.
"I'm sorry about all that," Imperion said. "I should have known: nothing good happens whenever I visit the old man."
"Do you mind me saying he's a real piece of work?" Sophie replied.
"Not at all," Imperion laughed. "He's got some...interesting views, I'll say that much." Sophie smiled, and was about to beat a hasty retreat, when Jackson stopped her. "Sophie, I just wanted to say something before you go."
"Mm?" Sophie didn't feel comfortable in Jackson's presence, somehow. His position, Hades, and now his father...it was more than a little difficult to speak to him, even for a social butterfly like Sophie.
"I just wanted to say that Spectra - that Mariko is doing damned fine work for us." This made Sophie warm to him in short enough order.
"Damned right she is." She smiled. "Oh, hey - that reminds me. Does the name 'Schiffer' mean anything to you?"

Imperion blinked.
"Schiffer?"
"Yeah, it's..." It was a little difficult to explain. Her telepathic friend, Insyte, had pulled from the minds of one of their enemies a vague notion that a man named Schiffer had something to do with the mystery of Sophie's superpowers. "It's kinda personal." He looked mystified. "Don't worry about it. And - oh my god, I'm such an asshole! Did I ever thank you in person for rescuing us from Hades?"

Imperion didn't seem to pay attention to the second part of what she said, however.
"I do know about one guy called Schiffer, actually," he said. "Fahrenheit and Askancepoint ran into him around the same time that Hades attacked you."
"Really?" Sophie was thrilled. "Who is he?"
"A scientist, I think. He was involved with some shady military project. He got away from my guys, but someone else arrested him."
"A scientist?" Sophie thought. "That sounds kinda promising..." Aloud, she said: "Where is he now?"
"The Penitentiary Supreme," he said. "Apparently he's a superhuman, I guess." This was gold. If he was stuck in one place, it was possible that Sophie could see him, talk to him. Hell, if she waited for Natalya's powers to recover completely, she might even be able to persuade her to pull information out of his head.
"Just a warning, I don't think he's gonna be there for long," Imperion said. "The military are probably gonna take custody of him."
"Right, okay." Sophie felt her heart pumping. Finally - finally some progress. A lead! An honest to god lead! "I'll have to see him soon," she muttered to herself.
"That might be hard," Imperion said. "They won't even let us speak to him."
"A girl's gotta try," Sophie said. "I tell you what, as thanks for the tip - and for, y'know, totally saving me from Hades - I'll share what I find out with you."
"Thank you," Imperion said. "Please do." Sophie smiled, and practically strutted away, invigorated and excited. "She is a funny one..." Imperion muttered to himself.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Mmhh...mmphhh..." Leanne whimpered, as she began to come to. "Mmh...mmph?!" As the supple, green haired lass opened her eyes, she saw - and felt - that she was bound. "Oh...oh, that's not fair!" She was wrapped up in a kind of straitjacket, a tight, all encompassing white garment keeping her lovely body helpless. Straps bound her arms across her body, as though she were being forced to embrace herself, her thighs, calves and ankles all tightly strapped as well, and a thick, white muzzle over her mouth.

This was the punishment for using one's powers. She was kept utterly, humiliatingly restrained, until such time as she could be trusted to be a good girl again. She lay on her front, despondent and ashamed, and dismayed at the injustice of it all. She lay there for some time, mewing and wriggling her supple limbs, perhaps for an hour, perhaps two. Isolation could be an awful thing, and Leanne had never been good at being alone under the best of circumstances. "Do I deserve this?" she thought. "Am I, like...a bad person?" She shook her head. "No! It's not my fault nobody wanted me! It's not my fault I didn't want to be a stripper or a whore! It's just unfair - it's all so fucking unfair!" With this refrain ringing in her mind, she began to feel tears welling up.

And then - light! The door to her cell opened, and there was a woman standing in the doorway. The strapped-up damsel sat up, hopefully and expectantly. If she'd been a puppy, her ears would have pricked up too. The woman walked in, and for a tiny moment, Leanne thought that it was Catherine. But no - she had only seen this woman once before.

She was tall for a woman, at least five foot ten. She had a slender, graceful figure, but it was paired with a sumptuous, extremely generous bust. Long, bushy white hair flowed like a mane down her back, and her skin glittered with silvery light. Leanne had seen her with the prisoners before, and indeed she was still in the green uniform of Leanne's section of the prison. But she was also holding a keycard, the one that had opened the cell. Leanne couldn't take her eyes off her. She was stunning.

"Good afternoon," she said. "You're the one they call Chupacabra, yes?" Leanne nodded. She spoke in a thick, lilting accent that Leanne couldn't quite identify - it was in fact Estonian.
"I was wondering if you might do me a favour. You see, there is someone in this prison whom I would like very very much to release - and I was wondering if you might assist me."
Last edited by Damselbinder 6 years ago, edited 1 time in total.
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Void
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Exciting stuff. Lovely, fluid descriptions wherever you look - not to mention memorable, well-realised characters!

I have to say, I sodding love Mariko. I would start or join the Spectra fan club and run their correspondence. Her social exchanges with Sophie are great. For me, she steals every scene she occupies - which is saying a lot because this series is choked with memorable and vivid personalities. Team Spectra all the way!
Lost in the night, and there is no morning.
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DrDominator9
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I have to agree with Void. Mariko is also a favorite of mine. Her personality has improved under Sophies loving influence and her success with the Pauldron.


And the subplot of how Sophie got her Enhance Girl powers is moving along nicely.
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
Damselbinder

Void wrote:Exciting stuff. Lovely, fluid descriptions wherever you look - not to mention memorable, well-realised characters!

I have to say, I sodding love Mariko. I would start or join the Spectra fan club and run their correspondence. Her social exchanges with Sophie are great. For me, she steals every scene she occupies - which is saying a lot because this series is choked with memorable and vivid personalities. Team Spectra all the way!
Thanks, man! I really appreciate your feedback. I'm glad Mariko's turned out this way. I actually thought she was probably the dullest heroine in the cast back in the early days of parts 1-5, so I'm glad to see that I've been able to mould her into a more interesting person.
Damselbinder

"MMMPHHHH!!" Chryseis cried, as her voluptuous body was entwined by a powerful, metal tendril. "Mmm-RRMMMPHH!" Her bow clattered to the ground, the buxom maiden helpless against her mechanical opponent. It coiled round and round her scantily clad body, squeezing her shapely, womanly legs, the prehensile, inch-thick tentacle pressing her arms to her sides, winding around and between her fulsome breasts, and covering her rosy lips. "MMRRHHHMPHHH!!" The heroine writhed desperately, but her bonds were infinitely too strong for her to break free from. Her dark blue eyes were wide with fear and disgust - she threw her black, glossy hair from side to side as she fought, but she fought quite in vain. Though her superhuman agelessness kept her beauty intact, she was no stronger than any mortal, and her enemy kept her quite helpless.

"Damn!" Spectra hissed to herself, seeing her ally captured. She hadn't anticipated remotely this kind of power from Encephalon - none of them had. She battered the cyborg with blow after blow, lance after lance of light, and she could see that her power was doing his body damage, but not enough to cripple it.

"Ooooaaahhahahahahhaha!" A 'voice' rang out from Encephalon's body. "This form was designed to stand up to even the attacks of Nova! Your little pinpricks don't stand a chance!" To call Encephalon a 'cyborg' did not really get the picture across. His body was entirely mechanical: this form was rather like a great tank, the size of a two storey house. It was a mottled, silvery-gray colour, dome shaped, with treads on its underside, but also great, powerful legs that walked with frightening dexterity. It was armed with gatling guns, flamethrowers, missiles - even an energy cannon much like the one Cybelle had wielded against Mariko in the past. But what took Encephalon from intimidating to grotesque was that, within the great dome of its body, was a living, human brain.

"You did this to me! You reduced me to what I am now!" Encephalon shouted, squeezing his glossy-haired captive ever tighter. "This body - this body is my revenge, Pauldron!" Another tendril lashed out towards Mariko, and it seemed as if it would catch her, for she did not move to avoid it. But her motionlessness meant only that she was concentrating - as the tendril moved to seize her, she replied with an attack of her own: a laser.

"No!" Encephalon cried out, as the tendril was sliced from his body. Mariko grinned: her studies had paid off. For, in an effort to make herself more formidable, she had taken time to study the actual physics of laser beams, and had applied her knowledge to be able to produce a laser much stronger than she'd been able to before. She aimed for the tendril wrapped around Chryseis' curvy, thrashing body, but Encephalon anticipated this. A sort of ring of turrets around Encephalon's midsection swivelled, so that Chryseis was now behind the cyborg's main body, blocking her from Spectra. More than that, the swivel had levelled Encephalon's main battery of weapons.

Mariko tried to move around, but a blistering volley of bullets, and blasts of scorching heat checked her progress. With only half a thought, she raised a wall of light to protect herself, and it held firm. But she couldn't get safely to Chryseis. She could have summoned light blades behind Encephalon, because unlike most energy-wielders she didn't have to create her attacks from her own body - but she was less accurate when doing so, and Chryseis might have been ageless, but she was not invulnerable. Encephalon noticed Mariko hesitate as she tried to plan, and levelled a full power energy blast at her.
"Auughh!" Mariko had to strain herself quite seriously to repel this. Thinking quickly, she angled the barrier of light she'd erected, so that the blast deflected off at about a thirty degree pitch. Another barrier appeared, and another, and another - in such rapid succession that even Enhancegirl would have been hard put to dodge it. Encephalon was quick for his size - but that wasn't very quick in real terms. Mariko deflected his energy blast right round back into the cannon that fired it, destroying the weapon.

Spectra pressed her attack, rushing forward to try to get under Encephalon's body while the machine was still reeling. However, an advantage of having one's brain hooked to a bank of computers was a vastly increased capacity to multitask. Spectra found the underside of Encephalon's body shift and unfold above her, and she was confronted by a terrible battery of weapons. But Spectra was not one to blanch at danger, and she instantly formed a dome of light above her, blocking the bullets that shot down at her.

"Rnngh!" Mariko groaned, struggling to maintain her barrier's integrity. Under the shadow of Encephalon's body, she didn't have as much light to work with as she had in the open California sunlight, where even without her soul-light she'd been approaching Nova's level of power. Underneath her enemy's bulk she was nowhere near that level of strength, and she was straining to keep herself shielded. Then, under a withering volley, her shield shattered.

That is to say, it split into fragments. These fragments did not dissipate, however, but launched upwards with great speed and deadly sharpness, tearing into Encephalon's exposed underbelly, the panels that had opened to expose his weaponry leaving tiny cracks through which Mariko's shards could strike. Delicately calibrated, exquisitely well-crafted machinery was torn to shreds. Mariko heard small explosions inside, and heard creaking and rumbling.
"Shimatta!" Spectra realised that Encephalon's bulk was about to fall on her, and she ran full tilt to get out of the way. Encephalon's body crashed down with a terrible groan, crippled.

"Holy cow!" Chryseis thought, as she saw the wreckage that Spectra had wrought upon their enemy. "Heroes today really are something..." Though she didn't look older than Mariko, Chryseis had been around for a long time. Her power stopped her from ageing at all from her physical prime, and she had seen generations of superheroes come and go in her years of crime-fighting. They'd become stronger and stronger, their powers wilder and wilder - nothing like Zjarrus or Nova had existed when she'd started. One of the reasons she stayed in the 'business' was because of her joy at seeing what her kind was becoming. Every new superhuman was something precious...though she did sometimes wish she were a little more potent. To say that she was the least powerful member of the Pauldron was almost a ludicrous understatement.

"No! NOO!" Encephalon howled, his electronic voice no longer sufficient to express his anger. "Guidance systems...damaged...targeting malfunction...you barbarian! You've ruined the finest piece of robotic engineering in the world!"
"In the first instance," Mariko said, drinking in the sunlight to bring herself back to full power, "that...hulk you've crafted is assuredly not the finest piece of robotic engineering in the world. In the second instance..." She raised her hand, created a ball of light between her index finger and thumb. "You will safely release my ally, or my next attack will not target your machine. It will target you." Encephalon realised she was aiming at his brain case.

"Now, let's not be hasty, Spectra!" Encephalon said, his machine still creaking and juddering as it tried to move. "I will release Chryseis." Slowly, the tendril began lowering the dark-haired archer to the ground.
"That's the first intelligent decision you've made all day, Encephalon. Now -"

Chryseis was the first one to see the figure plummeting down towards them. She called out to Spectra, but with the tendril gagging her she couldn't be heard. Fortunately, the falling man could be heard.
"FuuuuuuuuuuUUUUUUUUUUCKK!" The expletive was just loud enough for Spectra to get out of his way, but he hit the ground so hard that Spectra was hurled backwards by the shockwave of his impact.
"Unnhh!" she groaned, hitting a tree, lightly stunned as her head smacked against the wood. She tried to shake the feeling off, and saw a man in a tight black outfit, with a gold, crested cape - now rather torn - groaning on the ground.

"And stay down!" Nova yelled from above, as she saw her foe - Hytherion - defeated. His tactile telekinesis - essentially, he could move any object as long as he was touching it - had provided him with impressive defence against her formidable bursts of cosmic flame, but not for long. The petite maiden, her candy-floss hair in a fetching bob, her white dress billowing in the wind, clouded herself in a burning, blue-white aura, surveying the battle below. She breathed steadily, keeping her great power totally under control. "Looks like they managed to get that freak...wait, no!"

Indeed, as Mariko reeled, Encephalon took his opportunity. His ally had been felled, but that didn't mean he had to surrender.
"MMMPPPHHH!!" Chryseis cried out, as she was hauled back into his grasp. The top half of the cyborg's body twisted, spun - and then detached entirely from the bottom half, jetting off into the air.
"Damn!" Mariko fired a cannonade of photonic energy at the fleeing cyborg, but she was too dazed to aim it accurately, and it was a glancing blow. She steadied herself, but suddenly found she couldn't move. "Wh-what?"
"G-gotcha!" Hytherion had reached out of the crater, and placed a single finger on Spectra's silver boot. Her legs, her soft, slender arms - frozen in place! "Nothing can move once I get a hold of it!" He was missing an eye from a previous battle, and shy a tooth or two from his fight with Nova, but he wasn't helpless. Mariko, on the other hand, couldn't move a muscle.

"Damnation!" She cursed internally, her lips frozen shut by Hytherion's power. She couldn't even blink. "I was careless..." With shocking ease, the maiden's arms were crushed against her sides, her long, supple legs snapping together, forced into place. It was as though she were bound in the strongest of chains.
"Can't speak, can't move...how humiliating for you, hero," Hytherion spat. "Now... imagine what it's like for Encephalon!" He spoke with a strong Spanish accent, though his command of English was essentially faultless. "He told me what the Pauldron did to him. I've always known you lot were...urghhh... vile hypocrites!" Mariko didn't concern herself with Hytherion's judgement - but she did see Encephalon getting away with Chryseis in his clutches.

"Ahaha!" Encephalon laughed. "It seems even injured, my dear cousin was more than a match for Spectra! And now Chryseis...now I have you..." As the cyborg rocketed through the air, it coiled its tendril ever tighter around Chryseis, binding her shapely legs, stroking her bare thighs.
"Mmmghh...mmmnnnmphhh!" Chryseis moaned, feeling her youthful body squeezed from all directions. "You sad-sack, self-deluding bastard! Ugh, even as a robot you're a sick creep!"
"It's a shame that you sabotaged my attempts to transfer my mind to my intended target," Encephalon said, an odd lilting in his tone meant as a simulacrum for sounding amused. "Your barbarism will be punished, my lovely Greek girl...perhaps I shall take your body instead! I have always wanted to be immortal..."
"Nmmph! NNNNMMMPHH!!" Chryseis was horrified at the prospect, and squirmed ever more vigorously, her breasts jiggling against the metal tendril wound over and between them. "We didn't sabotage it! We tried to save -"

"Stop!" A voice rang out, and a blue-white aura rocketed past the two, stopping directly in front of them. It was the starlit maiden herself - Nova - who barred Encephalon's way. "Release Chryseis now, Encephalon. And don't be clever - give her to me and then surrender yourself. Either that, or face destruction."
"Nuts to you!" Encephalon replied. "I will not allow you to deny the fruits of my genius, woman! Unless you wish to volunteer to be my new vessel in her place, I -"
"Screw this," Nova said, and fired a devastating burst of energy, fulling melting away a third of what remained of Encephalon's bulk.

"AAGHHH!!" Encephalon cried, in horror rather than pain. "I'll punish you for that!" The lovely Chryseis found herself unbound - and then plummeting. But she had barely enough time even to begin screaming before Nova plucked her out of mid-air, wrapping her arms around her ally.
"Unhh!" Nova grunted. Her slim arms weren't very strong, and Chryseis was taller and curvier than her, but Chryseis wrapped her newly freed arms around her ally, and the pink-haired maiden's power did the rest.

"Gee, thanks for the save, Sara!" Chryseis gasped. "But what are we going to do about Dr Good-Idea-At-The-Time over there?" Indeed, the cyborg was trying to escape, deploying gyrocopter-esque rotors to keep himself aloft.
"Oh, him?" Nova said. "I almost forgot." She lifted her hand, and a beam of energy rocketed out, devastating what remained of Encephalon's body with a spiral of cosmic radiance. "I hope you don't get nauseous easily."
"Why? Are you - whoa!" Chryseis clung on tighter, as Nova swooped down in a graceful, finely calculated arc. "Grab it!" For a moment, Chryseis didn't realise what Nova meant, until she saw the glint of a glass tube winking through the air.
"Gotcha!" the buxom archer shouted, seizing the tumbling brain-case of Encephalon, preserved in a nutrient bath. It was a little grisly, but at least he wasn't dead. "Great work, kiddo! I owe you, big time."
"Not at all," Nova said, smiling back at her longtime ally. "Feels good to be pulling someone out of the fire for a change." Chryseis saw a twitch in her left eye. It was not the first time she'd seen it in the past few weeks.
"Oh, sweetie, try not to let it get to ya," she thought. "If I ever see Anya again, I'm gonna beat her ass so god-damned hard!"

"Unnhh...nnhh!" Mariko groaned, straining to move, but still frozen in place. "This power...it's like being caught in a vice!"
"You are a beauty, aren't you?" Hytherion said, standing to his full height, just a little taller than Mariko. He kept his hand on her, tracing it up her smooth, tight thighs. This was partly what it seemed - perverse enjoyment of the restrained damsel's gorgeous body, and partly because he had to keep his hand on her to keep her bound with his telekinetic abilities. He grinned as he felt the fine lines of her body's contours, the delicate impressionable nature of her tan skin. He smiled as wide a smile as his small mouth would allow, the bristles of his short beard now uncomfortably close to Mariko's face.

"I have no allegiance to Hades," Hytherion said, "but I can see why he wanted to pluck you, my little Eastern flower..." He leaned in, stroked the elegant line of her jaw, her noble features nicely underpinned by an invitingly fetching quality, a femininity which her wrathful expression could not disguise. To Mariko's disgust, he licked her cheek. "I imagine my cousin will keep Nova busy for a while. I underestimated her, but I'll take her too when she comes for you. I have the measure of her now...and I've certainly got the measure of you."

"Nhhh...nnhhhghhkkk!" Mariko growled, trying to open her mouth. "Th...th..."
"Oh? Trying to say something?" Hytherion had very subtle control over his power. Never having fought the Pauldron before, he'd nevertheless tangled with Thaddeus' West Coast Congress multiple times, and had proved himself quite the foe. Nova had been battling him for a long time before sending him crashing down, and even then he hadn't actually been that badly hurt, even under her full power.

"Ahh!" Mariko gasped, as she found the tight grip around her jaw relaxed. "I...was going to thank you..."
"Oh! Been waiting for a big, strong man to come take you, eh? Looks like those rumours about you and Enhancegirl were just rumour after all! Ho ho ho ho!" Hytherion put his hand on Mariko's bare shoulder, exposed by her tight, silver leotard. It was warm, and smooth, and it made the villain wonder how the rest of her felt.
"No...you posturing...self-aggrandising...dullard..." Mariko growled. "I was thanking you for giving me time...to concentrate!"
"Eh?" Hytherion looked up, saw someone standing behind Mariko, taller than either of them. "Where did they - OOHHGGHH!" Hytherion was dealt a mighty blow, faster than he could perceive, catching him in the collarbone. "Aaauuugghhhh!!" he screamed, feeling more than just one bone break. "Impossible!" In addition to holding Mariko, which had taken a tiny fraction of his strength, he'd kept his telekinetic shield around his own body in case of surprise attacks. Yet Spectra's attack had pierced it easily.

Hytherion looked up again, and saw that the person behind Spectra was not really a person at all. It was humanoid, but by no means human - half silver, half gold, shifting between masculine and feminine in shape, eyes of burning golden fire. It flowed from Mariko's body, now in front of her, bearing down on him.
"What is...what is that?!" he stammered.
"More than I require," Spectra replied, "but I think you've earned a truly decisive defeat." Her soul light flowed forward. "Defend yourself! Even Hades herself could not withstand this power, and I do not altogether wish to kill you, Hytherion!"
"Herself?" Hytherion didn't ponder the matter long, and gathered his power about him in such quantities that it visibly warped the air around his body. "It'll take more than -"

Hytherion had once been hit by a freight train. It had been in a battle with Thaddeus Murderball's second in command, Vitra, who had thrown him into the path of the train to try to finish him off. It had been going at full speed when it hit him, and it had forced him to use so much power that he'd nearly blacked out. He'd later discovered that, per square inch, a freight train hit with roughly the same force as an atom bomb - which meant something to him after he looked up what an atom bomb was. He'd been very impressed with himself for standing up to it. It filled him with confidence, and his villainy became ever more daring.

Spectra broke his power, fractured his jaw, and knocked him completely unconscious with one blow.

"Fool," Mariko spat, drawing her soul-light back into herself. She felt woozy for a moment, but soon recovered. The last time she'd used this new power, she'd passed out from the strain, and if she'd had to use it for any period of time, she would have again. But she'd since realised that short, close range bursts were manageable, though even this left a kind of empty feeling inside her.

"Spectra!" The Mistress of Light raised her head, saw Nova and Chryseis floating down to the ground, Encephalon's brain-case clutched in the immortal archer's hands.
"I'm glad to see you're alright, Chryseis," Mariko said, smiling slightly. She opened her mouth to speak again, but felt awkward and stopped. She still didn't know how friendly she was supposed to be, or whether further inquiries about Chryseis' well-being would come across as patronising. She had gone from mighty, valiant, victorious warrior to socially malformed wallflower in an instant.

As if to compound this problem, Nova approached her. After being ruthlessly and publicly victimised by Hades, it had been very, very difficult for the two of them to speak to each other. Their missions together had been few, and wordless. Even before Hades, there had been no love lost between them.

It was rather to Mariko's surprise, then, when Nova put her hand on the tall heroine's shoulder, and smiled warmly at her.
"Great work, Mariko!" she said. She was almost beaming.
"Er...thank you, Sara," Mariko said, more than a little confused. "Likewise. If you hadn't intervened against Encephalon we'd, er, have been in a sorry state."
"Not at all. You had to clean up after me," Sara replied, indicating Hytherion. "I should have known he was too strong to get put down so easily. You would have saved Chrys straight away if I hadn't interrupted. You did great!" She clapped Mariko on the arm, and the Japanese maiden had to resist the urge to wince - there were few people in the world that she tolerated being touched by. Still, she knew how the gesture was intended, and she made herself smile in response.

Even Chryseis was surprised. Nova was willing to accept criticism, but she would never go out of her way to take blame for something. She'd known Nova for about a year, and she had a pretty good sense of her tics. The way she was speaking to Spectra, being so tactile: this was all very unusual.
"I see..." Mariko thought, going by theory rather than experience. "She sees what happened to us as something that unites us - and perhaps my power has earned her respect as well." This seemed eminently plausible to Spectra, and her smile changed into a more natural one. "Though there may be some enemies which can stand against the two of us," she said, "they are few and far between."
"Uh, yeah, exactly," Nova replied. "Hey, I'm going to..." She stopped for a moment, took a breath. "I'm going up to San Bernadino."
"Good grief, why?" Mariko replied, with a slight laugh. Nova appeared to be about to speak, but apparently thought better of it.
"Not much in the way of supervillains, but the local P.D. could always use our help. I'll, uh, see you later, 'k?"
"Sure." Mariko nodded. As Nova rocketed away, she folded her arms, with a satisfied smile. "Ironic..." she thought, "that she's the one I make the first real connection with..."


A few hours later, Mariko returned home, feeling a pleasant tiredness running through her. As well as cleaning up after the battle, she'd also joined Fahrenheit on a relatively productive patrol, and gone through the process of copyrighting her nom-de-plume and her likeness ("You don't want to know how many people have tried to make pornography of us") with Panhellius. It was, therefore, rather late when she got back.

"Mow!" A small, black tomcat waited impatiently at her door. He looked displeased.
"Don't fuss, Arthur," Mariko said. "Didn't Sophie feed you?" She went into her kitchen, found a full bowl of food, freshly changed water. Mariko narrowed her eyes at her pet. "Alright, what's going on?"
"Mrrroowr!" Arthur dashed off upstairs, apparently in the direction of the problem. Mariko found him by the door of her bedroom, looking at her with wide, yellow eyes. He normally slept in Mariko's bedroom, but clearly something was making him reticent, and his owner had a fairly decent idea of what it was.
"You, Arthur," she said, "are an idiot."

Mariko went inside, and had to catch her breath. Sophie was there on her bed, half dressed, in nothing but a half undone blouse and a pair of slightly frilly panties. Her long, shapely legs were bent inwards slightly, bathed in the bluish light of her laptop, one hand resting by her flat stomach, the other reaching upwards towards a pillow. Her mouth was slightly open, and her eyebrows were slightly crinkled, as if in mild displeasure. Her soft bosom undulated slowly, each breath in lifting her blouse just over her navel, than sliding it back when she breathed out.

Not taking her eye off Sophie for an instant, Mariko slid off her dress, and carefully lay next to her beloved. She traced her fingers through the maiden's long, wavy hair, feeling a peace settle over her. She drew Sophie into an embrace, the unconscious beauty brushing her nose against Mariko's long, slender neck. Mariko shivered as she slid her leg over Sophie's, her girlfriend's skin silky, and moist, the feeling making her thighs tingle.
"Hello there, my love..." Mariko whispered. She kissed her forehead, stroked one of her cheeks. It was soothing in the extreme - Mariko could easily lose herself completely in Sophie's presence, in the tender adoration they shared for each other. There was almost a peril to it, a danger that she would melt into her beloved completely. Besides that, Mariko would not allow herself to be complacent.

She checked off the list in her head, the abridged version of her long research into what was necessary for producing a stable relationship. They shared interests, but also had their own; they did things together; they supported each other's careers; they were spontaneously affectionate; they were open with their feelings; they had their own friends -
"Ah." Mariko spotted a problem. Sophie certainly had her own friends, but Mariko had summarily dismissed her model friends the instant she'd left the business, never having grown even slightly attached to them. She wondered if, perhaps, Sara and the others might be a place to start. She nodded, concluding that she was at least making progress towards meeting these targets she set for herself, and granted herself permission to be happy.

"Mmhh..." Sophie sighed softly. She moved closer to Mariko, as if seeking comfort. "Hh...hh..."
"Don't be troubled, my sweet," Mariko whispered. "I'm here."
"Hh...help..."
"Hm?"
"Help...help me...I'm not - not -"

And then Sophie let out a sound the likes of which Mariko had never heard. It was half scream, half moan, low and shaking, then gradually rising in pitch until it made Mariko's ears ring, tearing the veil of her joy, and cutting right to the heart of her. Before she could do anything, though, Sophie started awake. She saw Mariko, seized her shoulders, and opened her mouth, eyes wide with something that could only be horror.
"I -" And then, like Saul, the scales fell from her eyes. "Koko! Wh-what's...?"
"I think you were having a nightmare," Mariko said. Sophie was surprised by the level of alarm on her girlfriend's face.
"Yeah, I -" She couldn't remember. There was a sense, yes, that something in her sleep had terrified her, but she couldn't remember what it was. "That's fucking weird - I don't remember, like, at all..."

She was trembling. Mariko put her arms around her, held her close.
"Not the nicest thing to come home to, I'm guessing..." Confused and embarrassed, Sophie almost wanted to pull away, but she felt a great need to be as close as possible to Mariko. It felt safe, like Mariko was holding her together.
"You screaming? Certainly not. You half-naked on my bed...that's not exactly unpleasant." She kissed the top of Sophie's head.
"Well, as long as I'm providing eye candy, I guess..." The two lay together like that for a while, Mariko feeling Sophie's sharp, panicked breaths normalise, felt her shivers get less and less intense. Sophie felt like some great danger had passed, and Mariko too sensed this, in a way, even if neither of them understood exactly what kind of danger it had been.

"I have nightmares too sometimes." Mariko was speaking softly, stroking her lover's hair.
"Yeah?" Sophie replied, quietly.
"Mm. The other night I dreamt that that Adrienne woman stole my powers again."
"Oh, sweetie, that's horrible." Mariko clicked her tongue. She'd intended to express solidarity with Sophie, not make herself the object of sympathy. She elected to try a different tack to comfort her shaken lover.

"I fought a robot today," Mariko said.
"Seriously?" Sophie grinned.
"Well, after a fashion. A brain implanted into a combat platform of some sort."
"Shut up! That's fucking awesome!" She drew her legs under her, sitting on her knees. "How come I never get to fight any robots?"
"If you like, I'll insist that the next 'robot' I fight move its machinations to Seacouver."
"Would you?" Sophie put her hand on Mariko's thigh, not out of lust, but just a desire to feel her. She felt her heart rate slow down, felt herself calmer in Mariko's presence. "Oh, I bumped into your boss today."
"Oh?"

Sophie told her the story. Mariko's heart went out to Jackson - she knew what it was like to have a domineering, cruel parent.
"So you're going to the Penitentiary Supreme, then?" she asked.
"I'm gonna give it a shot," Sophie said. "Imperion thought it'd be pretty hard for me to get to him."
"Let me see what I can do," Mariko said. "Jackson may have started this prison off, but it's in our city. I might just be able to call in a favour or two, get you a few minutes with this Schiffer person."
"Fuck, Koko, that'd be awesome." She looked at her with soft, yet almost awed eyes. It really did seem at times like Mariko could do anything. Join the Pauldron? Piece of cake. Fight Hades one-on-one? No problem. Get Sophie access to a maximum security prison? The merest of trifles.

Quite suddenly, she grabbed Mariko, and kissed her with an intense, furious passion.
"Mmh!" Mariko gasped into her lover's mouth, rather taken off guard. Pulling away, she said: "Where did that come from, my love?"
"From me. From Sophie Scott," Sophie said, with an unusual insistence in her voice. "I...oh god, you're such a wonderful lover, Mariko. Don't..." She found herself struggling for words. She seemed to know what to say, but the words wouldn't come - like writer's block. "Don't let me go, okay?"
"Never," Mariko said, touched, but confused. She lay down, and drew her red-haired lover down with her. She didn't understand why Sophie was saying what she was saying, but she put her uncomprehension down to her own faults.

The two watched each other for a while. Mariko thought she saw Sophie begin to drift off, but some thought roused her.
"Koko, I'm scared," Sophie said. "I'm scared of what Schiffer might tell me...I mean, I want to know how I got my powers but...like, what if I forgot for a reason? What if it's something I'm really not supposed to know?"
"Sweetheart..." Mariko said, surprised to hear Sophie say something like this. "Listen to me. Even if it should turn out that you're an alien, or you were grown in a petri dish or something, you're still my Sophie, do you understand? That can't change."
"Yeah...yeah, okay..." Sophie said.

She held Mariko as tightly as she could, warm affection and cold fear clashing within her. This was different from the fear prompted by her nightmare. Before this she'd been absolutely determined to find out how she'd acquired her powers, but this fear...it felt intrusive, insistent, and the very emotion unsettled her. It didn't feel like fear, really: it felt like cowardice - and that was not something that Sophie had ever thought part of her character. Trying to shake it off, she fell back into slumber, and Mariko along with her. Sophie didn't dream this time, but just at the last moment of wakefulness, she heard a faint, but insistent knocking...
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Miles! Miles, wake the hell up!" A tall, brown-haired man in an ill-fitting, scarlet jumpsuit sat up, and cracked his head on the bunk above him.
"Fuck, ow!" Miles took himself out of bed, found his cellmate by the gates to their confines. He was wearing the same thing, and even had the same colour hair. The two of them might have been brothers. Yet Miles' cellmate, Gregory - otherwise known as Mindblow - was no relative of Miles'. He had a blue visor over his face, clamped over his eyes. He could see through it, but his power - to render instant unconsciousness to anyone with whom he made eye contact - was blocked.
"What the hell are you so excited about?" Miles asked, itching his collar. His hands were covered with gloves, gloves that were not only locked in place with metallic cuffs, but stapled to his wrists.
"Catastrophe's beating the shit outta Greyhand!" Miles gave a reluctant sigh.
"I suppose I want to see this, don't I?"

"Kick his ass!"
"Break that smug, slimy face in!"
"Rip his god-damned head off!"

Such were the chants as Greyhand and Catastrophe battled. The leader of the Catstrophe Gang and the lieutenant of the Fiendish Five were not either of them popular men in this section of the Penitentiary Supreme. Catastrophe was unliked because of his lack of allegiance to either the Supremacist or to the new faction, that of Hades. And as for Greyhand? Well...he was just a dick.

"Rrrragghh!" Greyhand lunged at Catastrophe, his right hand encased in a plastic sheath to prevent him from using the powers that gave him his name. He wasn't the worst looking man in the world, just sort of...plain, but his mean snarl twisted his face into ugliness. He was already bleeding from the forehead, but he refused to give up. "You failure! You shitty, washout pussy! I'm gonna make you cry to your -" Catastrophe's retort was brief, and Raymond was soon sprawled on the ground.

"I don't get you," Jason Johansson, the Catastrophe, said in a slow, studied voice, trying desperately to suppress his naturally whiny Baltimore accent. "You talk so much shit. You go looking for fights like you're trying to make some big name for yourself, but you're...shit, I mean who the hell's heard of 'Greyhand'?"
"Hypocrite!" Raymond growled. "You fucking hypocrite. You're the one who started this! Besides, you've never done anything but try to make a name for yourself, and all you've done is have every superhero from here to Lodi kick your ass!"
"And now I'm kicking yours. The circle of life is complete." He kicked Raymond hard in the face, but Greyhand was tougher than he'd expected. The villain grabbed Raymond's ankle with both arms, and bit him hard in the shin.
"YEAAGHH!" Jason cried out. He kicked at Raymond's skull, using the collar around his ankle to really make it count. Greyhand was thrown off him, and rolled a couple of times before he came to a stop. "You bit me!"

"Greyhand, you fight like a chump! Kick his ass, Catastrophe!" Mindblow yelled, happily cheering on his longtime boss. He'd worked independently while only Jason was in prison, but had been happy to put himself back under his leader's authority when he'd had the chance.
"This has always baffled me," Miles said. "Not the fight," he added, before Mindblow could respond, "but why anyone would want to be a 'supervillain'. You just end up drawing attention to yourself, and having Imperion or Enhancegirl punch your lights out or something."
"Eh," Mindblow replied. "I getcha. I s'pose everyone wants to wave their dick around, right?"
"Elegantly put," Miles replied. Mindblow laughed. Unlike Greyhand, he didn't mind being made fun of all that much. He did however, mind Greyhand, and continued shouting at his leader to break Raymond's face in.

Greyhand pushed himself up, staggering to his feet. He smiled broadly, his teeth covered with Jason's blood.
"When I get out of here...I'm gonna find the prettiest female relative you've got...and I'm gonna introduce her to my special hand..." Jason was almost astonished by the extent to which he was being baited. It was like Raymond wanted to die. "Fuck Catastrophe. Fuck this place. Fuck Captain Cur. Fuck everything!" Life in the Fiendish Five had been perfect for a man like Raymond, despite his complaints. A powerful fool to undermine and control, a weaker man to make him look big, and two attractive women to intimidate and ogle. He was a bully in a world of stronger bullies, and he hated it.

Jason had been a little unfair. Part of the reason for Raymond's belligerence was that he was known to have left Hades' personal service. In theory, this was not verboten, and as Raymond had not abandoned villainy he had not technically done anything for which Hades demanded reprisal. Still, he sensibly gave himself a reputation for being too vicious and just plain nasty to mess with. It helped that he was pretty strong, too. That didn't stop Jason from roundhouse-kicking him in the head.
"Now will you please just shut up?"

"Ah, shit," one of the guards muttered, now forced to intervene. From a railing above, he leapt straight down, hitting the floor with an odd, metallic 'THENK' sound. "Alright, back off, shitheels!" Despite the fact that he looked about as physically intimidating as Woody Allen, they were all afraid of him. He wasn't necessarily the most powerful of the Penitentiary Supreme's guards, but his powers were...painful to deal with.
"Oh great: Rowsdower," Minblow huffed. "Fun's over, I guess..." Without even needing to be told, they slunk back to their cells.
"Damn, Greyhand, you look like crap," Rowsdower giggled.

"Hhrrkkhh..." Raymond groaned, half-conscious. He'd lost, as he often did, but at least Catastrophe would think again before attacking him. Why had he attacked him? Of all the people in his section, Catastrophe had the least reason to fight him. And yet, as he was dragged off to the infirmary, Raymond could have sworn that he saw Rowsdower nod at someone. Made sense that it was one of the other guards dragging him, but as Raymond looked up, he saw Jason looking over his shoulder. There was a glimmer of recognition, a shrug, almost. It was a shame that Jason had knocked Raymond for so total a loop, or Greyhand might have heard his foe mutter:
"He's all yours..."
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Um, so what's my story again?" Sophie asked, sliding a translucent, black stocking up one of her fragrant legs, its sheen glinting in the early morning's light.
"A straightforward one, my sweet," Mariko explained. "I've told them you're working for your student paper, and that you want to speak with Schiffer about a matter of urgent journalistic importance." She was still drying herself from a shower, and happily ogled her lover as she dressed. A tight, black skirt - its hem halfway down Sophie's thighs - was matched with a slightly frilly white blouse, dark jacket, and black high heels. She wanted to come across as professional – but she looked phenomenal doing it.

Still, even as Mariko admired her, she noticed a hint of concern in her eyes, a sense that all was not well. Sophie’s intrusive sense of cowardice was gone, replaced merely by an unsettled sensation. But even that was faded. There was work to be done.
“Ow,” Sophie grumbled, pulling her long hair into a ponytail, something she didn’t often do. She looked a little older like this: a compromise between an outright disguise – which would probably have been too obvious – and just looking like herself, the potential problems of which were obvious. “How much time,” the redhead asked, “am I gonna get with him?”

Mariko turned her hands upwards, a sort of elegant replacement for a shrug.
“I can’t say. Not long, I imagine. Ten minutes? Five?” She frowned, a single line creasing her otherwise smooth forehead. “Apparently they’re under a lot of pressure to keep him in solitary confinement around the clock. We have the Penitentiary’s relatively progressive leaning to thank for your being able to talk to him at all.”

Mariko eyed her girlfriend carefully as she made the finishing touches to her foundation, adding just a touch of pink to her otherwise pale, freckled cheeks. There was a pensive quality to her movements.
“Are you -?”
“Am I okay?” Sophie responded, a little wearily. “No. I’m kinda freaked out about last night – but I want to know. I do want to know.” Mariko took Sophie’s response as her trying to convince herself, but that was not how it felt to Sophie. It felt more like she was defending herself from something. “God damn it, this had better pan out. I don’t know if I’ve got the patience for more false leads.”
“Quite,” Mariko said. She approached her lover, slowly eased her arms around her waist. She brushed her nose against Sophie’s, not quite kissing her. “Sophie,” she said in a low voice, “what will you do if we never find out how you acquired your powers?”

Sophie didn’t answer for a while. She let herself bask in Mariko’s presence, the feeling of her still-damp skin, the smell of her, the steam rising from her graceful body.
“I need to know,” the redhead said. “This power, whatever the hell it is, it’s…” She put her hand on her chest. “It’s inside me. Something or someone put it inside me, and I…if it’s something bad…or the way it got put in…shit, I just need to know.” She gave a frustrated growl. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”
“Le mot juste, to be sure,” Mariko replied. Sophie stuck out her tongue.
“You’re an asshole,” she said.
“So I’m told,” Mariko replied. “Now, off to jail with you.” Sophie giggled.
“Yes ma’am!”
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Uuuuurrgghhh…” groaned Greyhand, thoroughly overplaying his hand. He had been injured, and quite deserving of a painkiller or two, when he’d at first been brought into the infirmary, but after a night’s rest he was more or less completely recovered from the beating Jason had given him. “Come on, Doctor Yveson, give me some morphine or something!”

“Not happening,” she replied. “In fact, I’m discharging you.” She brushed a lock of brown hair out of her face. Young, curvy and with fine, hazelnut-coloured skin, the doctor frequently found herself the object of admiration for her patients. Greyhand, however, had alternated between making repulsive advances towards her, begging for drugs, and insulting her. She was a patient woman, but found him difficult to tolerate.

“No, I, uh…think I’m having a relapse. Yeah. Ow! Ohh, my stomach! Oh, I definitely need some morphine, or something, yeah…”
“You need to be quiet,” Yveson said. From what I hear, the guy who attacked you was the one who started it, so I don’t mind patching you up – this time. But I’m in a unique position at this prison. I can refuse to treat patients if I have good reason. I’ve never exercised that privilege, but I might make an exception for you.”
“Fucking ni - ” He barely got through the first phoneme before he found Dr. Yveson standing over him, glaring daggers into his dull, grey-green eyes.
“Finish that word,” Yveson said, “and I’ll give you all the morphine you like.” Defeated, Raymond shut his mouth.

After a few minutes of the villain stewing in his own juices, the door to the infirmary opened. Two things about this were unusual. The first was that the woman who entered was a prisoner, and had come in unguarded and unbound. The second was that the doctor didn’t notice her at all.
“What the hell?” The woman who came in was stunningly beautiful, with a bushy mane of long, white hair, and silvery skin. “God damn she’s fine!” Raymond thought, unable to take his eyes off her. He couldn’t believe that no-one else was doing as he was. Not Dr Yveson, not the other patients, no-one. He thought he was going crazy.

Yet if it was an hallucination, it was a spectacularly convincing one. He could smell her perfume, wondering how on Earth she’d got any in prison. She approached him with an ethereal smile on her face.
“Greyhand,” she said, with a whisper that made his heart flutter, and made other features of his anatomy respond as well, “I need you.”
“Uhhhh…” Raymond was bemused as well as aroused, though when this woman started undoing his straps.
“You have a unique gift, Greyhand. One that will help to liberate us all.” She finished untying him, and helped him to his feet. She was a little shorter than him, but seemed to fill the room entirely with an…aura, almost. Her very lips were silver, and – oh! – how Raymond longed to kiss them!
“Why…why me?” he said, as she unscrewed the sheath that covered his ‘special hand’.
“Because you, like me, and the rest of us who are shackled here by our inferiors, are a person of destiny.”

“Hey!” Yveson shouted. “How the hell did you get out?” As if released from a spell, Raymond leapt back. He reached for the nearest piece of metal he could find, but hesitated. His collar was still on, and would stop him if he tried to use his powers.
“Do not fear, Greyhand,” the silvery woman said. She moved towards the Doctor with the easy swiftness of a summer breeze. To say that Yveson did not see her would not have been quite right. She kept glancing at her, but then looking away, like she was convinced the woman was not worth looking at.

This was unwise, to say the least. As Yveson reached for something to defend herself with if it came to that, the silvery woman slipped behind her.
“Someone help! Some – MMMPHHH!!” A hand clamped tightly over her mouth, a leg wrapping around her torso, pinning her arms in place. “MMPHH! Nmmm-MMMPHHH!!” the young doctor cried out, her curvy body helplessly restrained. “What’s happening, what’s – MMHH!”

Something had hit her in the stomach. Someone rather, someone strong, and very capable. She gasped, making little mews as her body struggled to breathe properly.
“Wh…what’s…happening…to me…?” She didn’t understand it. She knew someone was holding her, but…it was as if they weren’t there! She could see them, but she couldn’t look at them. Her legs, partly shown off by a tight, brown leather skirt, began trembling. Her vision was growing hazy, her whole body soft. “Mhh…mmhhhhhh…” she sighed, as consciousness slipped away. She was released, and down she went to her smooth knees, her firm, ample bosom shaking and jiggling within her tight shirt as she collapsed, moaning and helpless onto the ground. “Nhh…uuhhh…” she mewed, passing out completely.

By this time, a guard had come in to see what the ruckus was about, but in that time Raymond had come to his senses. As the man entered, Greyhand touched his collar – and absorbed it into his hand, the non-metallic components clattering onto the ground, the process too fast for it to trigger.
“How did -?” The man didn’t recognise Greyhand, didn’t understand how he’d done what he’d done. The collar, in pieces, flew back out, impaling the man. He was knocked unconscious, bleeding profusely.
“Just as I’d hoped,” the silvery woman said, seeing Raymond’s power. “Before long, our cause will be reborn.”
“Whatever you say, sweetness,” Raymond replied. “Now how’s about we - ” He’d been about to try to take charge of the situation, but a single finger on his lips put paid to such thoughts.
“Come, my new ally,” she said. “I have a task for you of great importance.”

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Technically speaking, the Penitentiary Supreme was not in Seacouver proper. It was on a small island just off the city’s coastline, and Sophie had to take a ferry to get to it. If anything, it looked like the Pentagon, only a little smaller, divided as it was into its different sections for men, women, and various levels of power. There were other superhuman prisons, but they tended to specialise. This, however, had almost as many inmates as there were superheroes in the city, not to mention the guards themselves, who were all of them superhumans.

As Sophie got off the ferry, among an assortment of employees at the Pen-Supreme, lawyers visiting clients, she noticed that someone was looking right at her. She tried not to make it obvious that she noticed, but after a while it was impossible to ignore. Fearing an enemy, Sophie turned her emerald eyes to her watcher – and found a slightly familiar face.

She was older than Sophie, though still a young woman – perhaps twenty-six. She was about Sophie’s height, but much thinner, even more waiflike than Mariko. She took a step towards Sophie, tripping with a sort of dainty, casual elegance, the hem of her yellow, checkerboard summer dress bouncing with every step, revealing almost in their entirety a pair of decidedly pretty legs, her skin just a little bit tanned. She had a look of slight confusion on her face, as though she – like Sophie – almost recognised the person at whom she looked, but not quite. Her short, golden hair, styled in a fetching pixie-cut, along with her trim, graceful body combined to make her a damned good-looking woman, so much so that Sophie actually felt momentarily guilty: she found her very attractive.

“If you’re wondering where you recognise me from, darling,” the woman said, coming close enough to Sophie that no-one else could hear, “imagine me in a spandex bodysuit with a broken arm.”

This was a truly bizarre declaration – but after a second of bewilderment, Sophie understood what she meant. She had met this woman exactly once, during the Supremacist’s attack on Seacouver the previous year. She, too, was a superheroine.
“Falcona!” Indeed, this woman was perhaps the only person in the world with better eyesight than Enhancegirl herself, though she lacked the other weapons in Sophie’s sensory arsenal. Her preternatural vision had made it simplicity itself for her to recognise Sophie, even out of costume, and – indeed – so acute was her vision that she could actually see the parts of Sophie’s brain lighting up that indicated her recognition.

“Don’t worry, I won’t give the game away,” she said, in an accent that sounded like it came from a 1960s Hollywood romance. “I assume you’re here on business?”
“Uh, yeah, something like that,” Sophie said, taken rather off guard.
“Oh, gosh, I’m being such a twit!” Falcona laughed. “Let me introduce myself properly: I’m Felicity.” She took Sophie’s hand, and shook it. She was being brazen with her identity because it wasn’t a secret – she’d been publicly unmasked early in her career. However, she hadn’t let it stop her from doing her thing, so to speak. “I’m sorry for forcing an introduction on you, but I just could not resist saying hello to the lass who skewered the Supremacist! Oh, what should I call you?” Sophie smiled. Felicity reminded her a little of her mother.
“D’you mind if I keep my name to myself?” Sophie said. Her identity certainly was a secret.
“Well I can’t just call you ‘E.G.’, can I?” Felicity said. “Don’t you have another pseudonym?”

Sophie thought for a moment.
“Call me…I don’t know…” A name popped into her head. “Call me Elena.”
“Sure thing, sweetheart. Simon!” She called out, her voice surprisingly loud. A tall man just disembarking the ferry looked over. He wasn’t bad looking, but he’d clearly gone to great efforts to make himself muscular, and it didn’t quite suit his professorly aspect. “Darling, this is ‘Elena’.” She made the scare quotes with her fingers.
“Darling, why do you feel the need to make a new friend every time we come out here?” he said, though clearly he was joking, because he kissed Felicity’s cheek with a smile on his face. “Forgive my wife,” he said. “Have, er, we met?” He did not possess his wife’s power, and did not recognise Sophie. She, however, recognised him straightaway. This was Caduceus, Falcona’s husband, and a potent healer. She had once seen him save the life of Ivan Nazarov after he’d been torn apart by the Supremacist.
“Don’t you worry about it, dear,” Felicity said to her husband. She winked at Sophie. Falcona couldn’t help realising that Sophie was Enhancegirl – there was no reason to spread the redhead’s secret any further.

Quite insistently chatty, Felicity talked Sophie’s ear off the entire time they were led through the stringent security. They were patted down, and up, poked and prodded, and divested of anything that could possibly be regarded as a weapon. Sophie was a little suspicious, after the umpteenth security guard patted the inside of her thigh, that they were being more thorough than was strictly necessary, but as she looked round, she saw that even the most strikingly unattractive people entering the prison were being patted down just as vigorously as her.
“Don’t be shy,” Sophie heard Felicity say behind her, as one security guard hesitated to touch her slim, almost honey-coloured legs. “Imagine I’m a big ugly villain, and you won’t be shy anymore.”
“Sorry,” he mumbled. Sophie couldn’t help giggling.

It was only at this point that Sophie thought to ask what should have been a very obvious question.
“What are you guys doing here?” At this inquiry, Caduceus shifted uncomfortably.
“My brother’s an inmate here,” the healer said. “I visit him this time every week.” He shook his head, his handsome brow furrowed. Felicity saw this, took his hand, and kissed it.
“Just a few more months, darling,” she said, surprising Sophie with the warmth of the way she addressed her husband. “He’ll be alright.”
“I know he’ll be alright,” Simon replied. “He’s just such a…an idiot!” Sophie had not even known that Caduceus had a brother, much less that he was a supervillain. Whatever he was in jail for, it hadn’t made the papers.

The visitors were lead into a sort of antechamber. Unlike in most prisons, only three prisoners could be visited at any one time, in three entirely separate rooms, each as well and closely guarded as any of the highest security cells. There was an infinite capacity for possible problems in a place like the Penitentiary Supreme, so efforts were made to create as controlled an environment as possible.
“You get ten minutes,” a guard explained. “Unless we decide it’s over, in which case, it’s over. You don’t touch the convicts. You don’t do anything to antagonise the convicts. You do anything at all to make us think that you’re jeopardizing anyone’s safety, you’re barred from ever visiting this place again.”
“I’m not entirely sure that’s constitutional,” Felicity muttered. The guard glowered at her, and she batted her eyelashes in reply.

Sophie didn’t have the heart for wit. She found herself breathing rapidly, her stocking-clad legs firmly crossed one over the other, her arms folded over her chest. In theory, she would be seeing Schiffer ten minutes thence. She still didn’t understand why she felt so frightened. Nervous, or anticipatory, sure, but this fear – she wanted to run, and she almost did. She would have, if it hadn’t occurred to her that Mariko would have been ashamed of her.
“And she’d be right to,” she thought, bullying herself into courage. “Where the hell is this coming from? I’ve been…desperate to know about my powers…why am I so scared now?” She tried to shake the feeling off, and did largely succeed, but it was still…off-putting, to say the least.

“Mr Francis. Room two.” Caduceus stood up, shifting uncomfortably. There was something decidedly white-picket about him, and even an indirect association with criminality was something alien to him. He tugged on his collar, and Sophie noticed to her amusement that Simon was wearing his magenta bodysuit, his outfit as Caduceus, underneath his clothes. This was an old tradition that had long since gone out of fashion, but it was nice to know that someone was keeping the flame alive, so to speak.
“Give Miles my love,” Felicity said. She wasn’t even allowed in – she’d come entirely to give moral support to Simon.
“Not that he deserves it,” her husband growled back, “but, yes, of course.” He was escorted in, disappearing from the sight of all but Falcona. Though even she found her vision could not penetrate the entire prison. In addition to solid, thick, steel walls – constructed at eye-watering expense – there were force fields cordoning off different parts of the prison. These were supplementary, as they’d go down in a power outage, but they were still powerful.

As her husband was escorted into the visiting room, Falcona turned her eyes to ‘Elena’. Though Sophie had mostly restrained her fear, including the visual signs of it, Falcona was about as difficult to fool as Doctor Wingfield of the Methos Institute. The tiniest micro-expression, the slightest widening of the pores to sweat, she would see. If she’d wanted, she could even have looked right through Sophie’s skull, seen which parts of her brain were lighting up, though her understanding of neuroscience was limited, to say the least. At any rate, she could see Sophie was anxious.

“Hm?” The redhead started, nearly lashing out. She caught herself in time, thankfully, finding a small, delicate hand on her shoulder.
“Why you lovely thing, you do seem out of sorts,” Felicity said, smiling a cajoling, endearing smile, her mouth small, but feminine. “Are you visiting a relative as well? It can be very trying, I know.”
“No, it’s, uh…nothing like that,” Sophie said. She had a thought. “Shit, maybe it is like that. I have no idea.” Felicity blinked her wide, blue eyes, confused. Before she could probe, however, a guard beckoned for Sophie.

The redhead positively leapt out of her seat, perhaps for fear of freezing up.
“Hold on,” the guard said. He was absolutely huge, one of the broadest men Sophie had ever seen. She didn’t need to be a coward to be a little intimidated. “Don’t ask me why, but my bosses don’t seem very happy about this. You’ve got five minutes, okay?” He opened the door of the visiting cell, and Sophie stepped inside. Falcona glanced at her, and frowned deeply: Sophie was shivering. She continued shivering as she entered, sitting down on a plain plastic chair like you might have at a school. Again, she crossed her legs tightly, and she struggled to look straight forward. There was a thick pane of transparent plastic dividing her side from where the prisoner would be, though they weren’t inside yet. There were cameras on every wall, with buckles and straps on the chair that the prisoner would sit in, and some kind of headpiece attached to the chair as well. Sophie noticed one on her side too, and put it on.

She damn near jumped out of her seat when an alarm sounded, and the security door on the other side made the rather novel move of slamming open. Three men walked inside, two guards in their ochre uniforms, and one man in a kind of orange straitjacket. He was greying, slightly overweight, but had a pair of rather lively, light brown eyes, a glint of intelligence in an otherwise unremarkable face. His watchers unstrapped his arms, pushed him down into the chair, before tying his arms to it.
“If someone would tell me,” he complained, “why I am being dragged out here? I was in the middle of the best game of mental chess I - ”

Schiffer looked at her. He looked right at her. Sophie had to give him credit, for the emotion on his face showed for only the slightest fraction of a second. But it did show. Anyone else would have missed it, but even without her powers Sophie was a keen study of the intricacies of human expression. By the time he was properly settled in his seat, Schiffer’s face had gone back to a sort of conceited confusion, but he hadn’t fooled her.
“He recognises me!” At the very instant of this thought, Sophie’s fear evaporated. She grinned like a hyena: there was no mistaking it. This man, this scientist, he’d had at least something to do with her powers. The only question was what. Was he the end of the trail, or just the beginning?
“Yes, pretty young lady?” Schiffer said. “May I help you?”
“Enhancegirl.”
“Hm?” Again, a flicker – just a flicker, but Sophie caught it.
“I’ve got…sources,” the redhead said, cracking her knuckles and taking on a decidedly more confident posture, “who tell me that you might know something about the superhero called Enhancegirl.”

He opened his mouth. He closed it again. This went on for some time.
“C’mon, buddy, I don’t have all day here,” Sophie urged. The seconds were ticking down.
“You must understand,” he replied. He shifted nervously. “There are…many people who are not best pleased with little Peter. For all I know, talking to you gets me killed – there are beautiful assassins, you know."
"All I'm asking is for information. Besides, not much I can do to you from here, right? Please, just tell me what you know about Enhancegirl. Please." He laughed.
"Young lady, remember the world we live in. I can think of an infinity of ways that a person might kill me from where you are sitting. You might be telekinetic, hydrokinetic, able to turn yourself into gas, able to make explosions by blinking, or spitting acid or -"
"For fuck's sake, do you know how Enhancegirl got her powers?!" Sophie almost shouted.

Schiffer, and his entourage of guards, were somewhat taken aback by this.
"You do not quite know what you ask," Schiffer said in a soft voice. "I risk more than you can possibly imagine, Miss...?"
"Elena," Sophie replied. "What? What's the problem?" Schiffer was staring at her. His eyes were wide as saucers, a look of total shock and confusion on his face. The redhead didn't know why, but that alien fear was starting to creep back in.
"Did you say 'Elena'?"
"Yeah...so?"
"But I thought it hadn't -"

In fact, Schiffer cut himself off, quite independently of any outside stimulus. But as it happened, it was at that moment that an alarm went off, a high, insistent buzz that insisted on monumental importance for itself.
"Oh shit!" one of the guards said. "This interview's over."
"No, don't!" Sophie cried out, as the two guards unstrapped Schiffer, before hauling him away. "Don't! Please, I have to know! I have to know!" But they resolutely ignored her. Schiffer, however, did not. He didn't take his eyes off her for one moment. Small and devoid of any great beauty they might have been, but those eyes burned right into the pale redhead. And then he was gone, leaving Sophie completely adrift.

"Hey." The door behind her had opened. "Miss, you can't stay."
"What? No, you don't understand! I've gotta talk to him again!"
"Then arrange another visit."
"Damn it, he might not be here next time! This is complete bullshit!" She had come so close, so close to the truth - and it had been snatched away from her. "What the hell's going on?"
"What's going on?" the guard said. "A god-damned, full scale prison break is what's going on!"
"Oh," Sophie said. "Maybe it's not complete bullshit..."
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DrDominator9
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One tiny step closer, barely, to an answer about the source of Sophie's powers but it feels like we're ages away from the full truth. Meanwhile Enhancegirl is about to be involved in a full-scale prison break of the most dangerous super villains around. I sense a hell of a donnybrook coming up. Should be very entertaining.
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
Damselbinder

"Shit, shit, shit!" Philip Hayward, once known as 'The Generator', and now the Warden of the Penitentiary Supreme, thumped his hand down on his desk, immediately destroying his computer. This was not because he'd hit the computer, but because - as the single most powerful electrokinetic in the world - he, anger and electronics did not mix well. He observed with dismay as a number of prisoners in the mid-high security male section battled vigorously with their guards. Several were hurt, though Rowsdower was doing a damned fine job of keeping them suppressed as much as he could. "How did this happen? Why aren't their collars working?" His black beard crackled blue.
"They are working, sir," one of his underlings said. "Most of them got back in their cells after the alarm sounded, and a few that didn't were taken down by the collars, but some of them -"
"What?" Philip turned slowly, consciously restraining his power.
"Well look, sir." The young man pointed at one of the security screens. "It's not that the collars aren't working - they're gone." Philip growled.
"Seal off that section. Seal off all sections - the whole jail! No-one and nothing gets in or out." He flexed his hand. "I'm going to see to this myself!"

A level or two below Hayward, a group of lawyers, well-wishers, a couple of deranged stalkers, and three superheroes were being escorted into a secure room.
"Please accept our apologies," a slightly more well-spoken employee said. "There's been an...incident. I'm afraid that the Penitentiary Supreme is on lockdown - we cannot allow any of you to leave at this time." Great cries of complaint went up, not least of which from Caduceus, who felt cheated of his time with his brother. He didn't want to leave - he wanted to go back inside.
"And to think, I could have been seven holes into a game of golf by now," Falcona huffed. "Not that I play golf, of course - detestable game - but it's the principle." The young woman sitting next to her didn't reply. "Elena?"

'Elena' - in actuality Sophie Scott - barely heard her. Her mind was replying the events of her interview with Schiffer over and over and over again, trying to pull some new information out, some extra clue.
"He definitely knew who I was, but he got all freaked out when I called myself 'Elena'. He seemed afraid of someone. Of me? Of people here? The military?" She turned it over and over again in her mind, trying to think of any little nuance of expression that might reveal more - but nothing came to her. An awful thought arose: that she would never have the opportunity to speak to him again. The thought that she might have blown her one chance was almost enough to make her scream with frustration. "I should have brought Nat - oh, wait..." She had thought of her friend, the telepath Natalya Nazarov, who could easily have drawn any knowledge she liked from Schiffer's brain.

But Natalya's powers were, as far as Sophie knew, still on the fritz - and besides, she had left the mantle of 'Insyte' behind her. Sophie didn't feel she could ask Natalya to involve herself with something so potentially dangerous, now that she had chosen to leave the life of a superhero behind her. "Maybe I could ask Doctor Wingfield - he could at least tell me if Schiffer was lying or - no, god damn it! Why should he
"Are you alright?" Felicity asked, seeing that Sophie's brain was in a frenzied state of activity. "What is the matter with this girl?"
"Sorry," Sophie replied. "Just a little lost in thought."
"So I see," Felicity said, with a slight laugh. "I'm getting the impression that that was an important meeting for you?"
"I -" And then a thought occurred to Sophie. Why keep it a secret? What did she stand to lose? "I don't know how I got my powers."
"Oh?" Felicity seemed a little confused. "Perhaps you were just born with them, darling. I admit it's unusual for a shifter but -"
"No, it's not like that. I know I didn't have any powers before, like, a little less than two years. The weirdest part is, until last October I didn't even know that I didn't know. Pretty fucked up, right?"

Falcona put her arms behind her head, breathed out slowly.
"My! What an intriguing mystery..."
"I know! I mean, shit, in a way it's kind of cool. Not many capes these days have a full-blown origin story."
"Oh, you should hear Simon's sometime. It's hilarious." She laughed, and even though Sophie didn't know the joke, she laughed along with her. "I assume the person you came to see had something to do with it?" Sophie explained who Schiffer was, and the little she'd discovered. Falcona absorbed all the information, concentrating deeply.

"It occurs to me that there are two questions you need to ask, Elena. Firstly, if you got your powers in an experiment, you probably weren't the only one who did." Sophie got a glint in her eye, and was about to ask something, but Falcona shook her head. "No luck here, darling. I know our powers are similar, but I got mine from second hand exposure to gaseous dexite."
"Shit," Sophie huffed. "What's the other thing I should ask?"
"What's Schiffer's power?" Sophie cupped her chin with her hand.
"God damn," she said, "that is a good question..."

"Excuse me, Mr and Mrs Francis?" It was one of the guards, the gorilla of a man that Sophie had spoken to before. He was addressing Falcona and Caduceus, who'd been standing a little way off.
"Yes?" Caduceus said. "What do you want?" He was an intemperate man at the best of times, at Falcona squeezed his hand to remind him to be polite.
"Sir, it's about your brother. Could you come with me, please?"
"About Miles? What's happened?"
"I can't say here, Mr Francis. Please come with me. You as well, Mrs Francis, if that's okay." Felicity and Sophie looked at each other, both women a tad suspicious.

Sophie looked over her shoulder as the couple were led away. Though the glut of neophyte heroes in Seacouver had caused her irritation earlier, she was almost always pleased to make a connection with a new hero. Not that she wholly blamed herself for it, but she didn't feel like she had given the best impression of herself, and made a mental note to try to come across better the next time. Felicity had charmed her and she liked, when she could, to charm in return.

Husband and wife were led to a security door. There was another guard on the other side of it, allowing the gorilla and Caduceus in, but raising his hand to stop Falcona.
"I'm sorry ma'am," he said, "but I'm gonna have to stop you there. I just got word from Mr Hayward that only Caduc - uh, I mean Mister Francis is allowed into this area." He kept looking down at the floor.
"Something's wrong here, little man," Felicity said to the person who was a foot and a half taller than and weighed twice as much as her. "A moment ago you said in very strong terms that -" She narrowed her eyes. Pretty as those eyes were, the man she looked at recoiled at the ice in them. "Simon," Felicity said, "this man is a liar. I don't think Hayward called for us." She could literally see this in the electrical activity of his brain. "I don't know what it is you're tying to pull, but -"

There was a moment. A moment of confusion and hesitation. Simon didn't know what his wife was talking about. Lying? Lying about what? Confusion from Felicity too: had Simon understood the gravity of what she'd just said? Confusion from some nearby guards who had no idea what their colleagues were talking about. Confusion from Sophie, observing.
"Damn it, Forrester," the man standing closer to Caduceus shouted, "do it now!"
The shout by itself would have been enough to rouse Sophie's attention - but that was not all that happened. Forrester stamped his foot three times on the ground; the security door slammed shut, separating Falcona from her husband; a terrifically loud alarm sounded - and the floor vanished from underneath Falcona's feet.

"Aaaahhh!" the spry blonde screamed, as she found herself plummeting down into a pair of waiting arms. "What the fu -" The waif found herself cradled in the grasp of another woman, taller and stronger than herself, with silvery skin and long, bushy, white hair. Felicity would have been kicking or fighting - but she found herself drawn into a total fascination with the woman holding her. "You...you're..." She recognised her. In an instant, she realised what was happening, what her captor wanted. "Sinistrus? Then - the jailbreak is a distraction! Simon, don't - aah!" If she'd not been incapable of looking away from the woman who held her, she might have noticed the man injecting a syringe into her bare thigh.
"Nighty-night, sweetheart," Greyhand cackled, pressing down the plunger. It was he, of course, who had stolen the floor from beneath her, and sent her tumbling into the arms of the silvery woman.
"No! No I...I...uuhhh..." The sedative that Raymond had stolen from the infirmary worked very quickly - it was designed to put down superhumans much stronger than Falcona.

"No...have...to...ahh..." Felicity moaned. Already in the arms of one her captors, there was little she could do. Her bare, slightly tanned legs kicked weakly, her arms flapping uselessly in an attempt to strike the woman carrying her. Summoning all her strength, she lifted both her hands to her captor's face, perhaps trying to strike - or even to choke her, but so weak was she that it seemed as though she were affectionately stroking her captor's face. "Can't...let you...uuuuhhhh..." Her arms dropped down, one hand falling onto her flat stomach, the other dropping towards the ground, swinging slightly. Her eyes rolled back in her head, her eyelids fluttering. "Simon..." she thought, dazed and helpless, "...please..." But she didn't finish her plea. Her crystal-blue eyes were covered by her quivering eyelids, her breathing getting slower and slower. She wasn't actually fully unconscious even at this point, for she could still feel the hands carefully grasping her slim legs, cradling her light, feminine form. Soon, though, she had slipped entirely into the inky blackness of sleep.

"There we are," Sinistrus said. "Greyhand?"
"Hm?" The man had been distracted by the sight of Falcona's helpless body. Held as she was, her short, checkerboard dress was sliding even further up her thighs, and he had never been one to deny himself even a momentary pleasure.
"Seal up the hole."
"Oh, uh, yeah, right," Raymond said, reaching up towards the hole he'd made. "How did you know she was gonna be in that exact spot? Do you have the same kind of powers that she does?"
"No greater sight," Sinistrus replied, "but greater foresight, perhaps. Come, Greyhand, we must -"

It was a shame, perhaps, that she didn't have Falcona's powers. For if she had, she certainly would have seen the attractive redhead in high heels hurtling down the hole that Greyhand had made, and planting both feet in his face.
"OOGHHH!" Raymond screamed, flying back, his head hitting the stone ground hard. He looked up, groaning, at the woman who'd floored him, and she looked back.
"You!" they both shouted, with nearly equal venom. "What are you doing here?" they both said, except Sophie added two words between 'what' and 'are'.

Sophie didn't answer, but the reason was a combination of quick thinking, and headstrong bullishness. When she'd seen Falcona fall through the floor, she'd acted immediately, and leapt through the hole as soon as she could push past the panicked civilians. Yes there were guards, yes she was at the Penitentiary Supreme on personal business, but she was a superhero. She had a duty - and the thought of Caduceus' face if something happen to the wife he quite clearly loved was more than sufficient motivation for the redhead. She'd dived right in, quite literally.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Sophie growled, as she righted herself after her divebomb. "'Cause if you want me to kick your ass again, you're going about it the right way, Cad, or whatever the fuck you're calling yourself."
"I've moved on to bigger things since working for Captain Maniac," Cad replied. "I don't have time for little girls like you."
"And I don't have time for low-rent psychopaths like you," Sophie replied. "En -"
"I wouldn't do that if I were you!" Greyhand grinned. "That's the problem with a jail, isn't it?" He pointed at the walls of the little corridor they were in. "Too much security!"

Sophie looked up, and saw - much to her chagrin - that there were cameras everywhere.
"Shit!" She couldn't transform here - her identity would be completely exposed. Anyone reviewing the footage would easily be able to work out who she was, exposing her secret identity. But could she beat Greyhand without her powers?
"Aaaghh!" As if to say 'no' Greyhand used the other half of his power to absorb metal, launching out a stream of nails towards his target. Sophie just about managed to get out of the way, but she felt the edge of one of the nails scratch her cheek. Without the effortless grace her powers afforded her, she hit her shoulder quite painfully into a wall in her efforts to dodge, and feared a follow-up attack, but none came. Rather, Greyhand used the opportunity to get past Sophie, and seal up the hole he'd made.

"Damn it!" Sophie hissed. She got to her feet - and for the first time saw Falcona. She was just lying quite peacefully, propped up against a wall. She looked like she was just asleep, with her hands in her lap and her slim, naked legs out quite straight in front of her. Once again Sophie felt just a little guilt at how attractive she found the slight, slumbering blonde. Someone else was there too, walking towards Sophie, but they didn't matter. Sophie ignored them, and focused on Greyhand.

She looked at him, the hateful bastard who had driven Captain Cur into total madness, who had used him for his power, who - let it not be forgotten - had kidnapped her and Mariko with the intent either to murder them, or sell them to Hades. A spiteful, bullying little toad - but a dangerous one too. He had to be stopped.
"You know what? I'm guessing you've attached yourself to some big boss or something. No way you're the mastermind of all this. And I'm also guessing that this time your boss really is your boss. So who is it? Gravion? Catastrophe, maybe? He never seemed that smart, but he's pretty good at keeping people loyal to him." Footsteps were approaching Sophie, but they weren't remotely important. Greyhand was what mattered.
"What's it to you?" Greyhand said, a smile edging up the side of his face.
"My point is I don't care who's pulling your chain," Sophie said. "Any plot that involves someone like you...it's gotta be stopped. And if I have to risk my identity to do it, then I will." She could smell something, a faint chemical scent, but that wasn't worth her attention. She needed to stop Greyhand, and that was all. "Enhammmmmpphhhhhh!"

How? How was it possible that she hadn't noticed? How did she not see the woman with white hair and silvery skin coming so close to her? No, she had seen...but she just hadn't paid attention to it. And now, there was a thick, damp rag clamped over her nose and her sweet, pink lips, an artificial, chemical smell overwhelming her senses. She was frozen with shock, and total confusion. And then it hit her - a wave of weakness that sucked all potency from her body. The halothane was doing its work.

"Mmmmmmmhhhh!" the redhead moaned, as her trembling arms reached upwards towards the cloth. "Mghh..mmmh..." she mumbled, fearfully aware of the speed with which her consciousness was draining away from her. "Have to...get..." She could hardly think at all.
"Sssshhhh..." A blissfully soft voice whispered into her ear, and Sophie felt tingles running down her back. "You were caught off guard, sweet girl..." the voice whispered. "Now there is nothing left for you to do but sleep..."
"Mmmhhh...mmphh..." Sophie whimpered, feeling her captor's body press into hers: plump breasts, strong arms, firm, toned legs...one of those legs even coiled around Sophie's own stocking-clad pins, pressing them tightly against each other, easily repressing the weak thrusts that Sophie made. "How...how did she...get me...?" She didn't understand, and was losing her capacity to think. "I...saw her...but I just didn't notice...wh...how...?"

"If I have this right..." Sinistrus said, keeping her hushed tones as she spoke to her lithe victim, who writhed so fetchingly in her grasp, "you are Enhancegirl."
"Mmmhhhh..." Sophie sighed, partly in dismay, and partly at the sensual powerlessness being inflicted on her. Her head fell back against Sinistrus' shoulder, her long red hair tangling with the white hair of her captor, her tresses as tangled and disordered as her halothane-addled mind. "She...knows...I...what do I...do...now?" This was not a thought of panic: she was just trying to think what to do with this revelation, but she could not. Her wits had been stolen from her just as surely as the strength of her body.

"You are, then, as lovely as they say," Sinistrus continued. Feeling the maiden's limbs slacken, she unwound her arm from Sophie's. The redhead's arms dropped instantly to her sides, swinging slightly, but otherwise motionless. Sinistrus ran her hand slowly up Sophie's midriff, between her slowly heaving breasts, stretching rhythmically against her tight blouse, her bosom a womanly swell that offset the gymnastic slenderness of the rest of Sophie's body.
"Mmmmmhhhhhhh..." Sophie moaned, feeling herself caressed, feeling her nose brushing against the skin of her captor's neck. She blushed luminously, her supple thighs shifting against each other, stockings producing a satisfying 'swish' as her legs rubbed together. Her tight, round rear wiggled delectably against Sinistrus' hips, and Sophie gained a renewed sense of the shame of being so simply subdued. She wanted to look away from Sinistrus, but having once been unable to notice her she could now see nothing else - not Greyhand, not Falcona, nothing. She felt like she was melting, sinking into a warm, enticing darkness. She couldn't resist. "I'm helpless..." she thought, with a dreadful straightforwardness.

"I'm not an arrogant woman," Sinistrus said. "I know perfectly well how lucky I was to defeat you so easily. I am...charmed, you might say. But luck or otherwise, Enhancegirl...you are defeated..."
"I...am defeated..." Sophie thought, giving a little mew as she felt her whole body going limp. Sinistrus squeezed her right hand, forcing Sophie to breathe an even greater quantity of the halothane. She squeezed her left hand too, cupping and massaging her victim's breasts, so yielding and sensitive. She could feel for herself, of course, how yielding they were. As for their sensitivity? This she knew from the redness of her somnolent captive's cheeks, and the quality of her moans.
"Mmmhhh...mmmhhhnnnhhh...mmph...hhhh-mmmhhhh..." Sophie whimpered as night descended upon her. She felt a throbbing passing through her body, felt herself undulating slightly as she lost consciousness. Her eyes, like green-and-white jewels, faded, fluttered like butterflies.
"Sleep, Enhancegirl...know that Sinistrus does not abuse her captives...no matter how nubile and...ripe they may be..." Sophie's captor whispered gently, like a lover whispering sweet nothings in her ear. "You will be my prisoner...but you will be safe...warm and safe..."
"Warm...and safe..." Sophie repeated, unable to fight back against the spell being cast on her. Dizzy, dazed and defeated, Sophie felt her eyelids heavier...and heavier...until all she could see was a thin crack of light at the bottom of her field of vision. "So...sleepy..." was her last thought, before her eyes shut completely.

"There we are," Sinistrus said, feeling her comely captive sink against her, feeling the change between her powerless limpness and full unconsciousness. She turned her around, seeing her lovely, lightly freckled face, entirely peaceful now that Sinistrus had overpowered her so utterly. She slipped her hand down Sophie's soft, nylon-covered thighs, and lifted her body up and over her shoulder.
"Unh..." Sophie mewed softly as she was taken captive. Her short, tight skirt did scarce little to defend her modesty, and the tops of her thighs, uncovered by her stockings, were exposed.
"There we are, girl," Sinistrus said, stroking her long legs as one might stroke a cat, with slow, gentle affection. "It's over now." At the sight of Sophie's limp body - drugged, slung over her captor's shoulder, and easily fondled - one could hardly have doubted the truth of Sinsistrus' words.


"Hhhnn..." Such was all the protest that Sophie Scott could muster as her unconscious body was laid next to that of Falcona. Both women had been sedated with different chemicals, but both were equally helpless. Sophie's head slumped onto Felicity's shoulder, and it could not be denied that the elegant blonde and the young, long-legged redhead made a strikingly fetching pair. Greyhand certainly thought so. Indeed, he was imagining how the pair might look if relieved of the burden of their apparel.
"Look at them! Think they're so special - well it only took a little dose of something and they're nothing more than helpless girls! Ha!"
"Greyhand," Sinistrus said. He looked up at her, and in an instant Falcona and Enhancegirl were forgotten. He could see only Sinistrus.

"Be so kind," the ethereal villainess said, "as to help me tie them up." She threw him a roll of medical tape, and he could once again perceive their captives.
"You got it," he said, grinning. "Which -"
"Falcona," Sinistrus said, instantly. "You have a sin -" She stopped herself. "An...aggressive streak. It makes you a powerful fighter, but...I don't want any kind of grudge getting in the way of the mission."
"Hey, makes no difference to me," Greyhand lied.

Sinistrus knelt down primly next to Sophie's sleeping form. She slipped off the girl's blazer - it was unnecessary extra weight, and pushed her forward, so Sophie's head was bowed, her hair tickling her thighs. She tucked her arms behind her back, folding them neatly into the position for a box-tie, one arm parallel to the other. She unrolled a portion of the tape, and secured Sophie's forearms together, tightly enough that the tape made a slight impression into the fabric of Sophie's white blouse. Then, with rather alarming swiftness, she pulled Sophie back up straight, making her hair fly back in a billowing, fiery waterfall.

Yet the colour of her hair was the only fiery thing about her. Her face was calm, meek. Softly slumbering, the lissome girl didn't resist in the slightest as her captivity was secured. Sinistrus held her by the back of her neck, as she began winding white tape around her chest. Held so upright, Sophie didn't look so much like a captive as like an obedient submissive, allowing her mistress to have her way with her. Tape was wrapped from just beneath her breasts, right down to her navel, keeping her arms pinned inescapably against her back, her hands only just peeking through the layers of tape. When Sinistrus had finished, she went right back up the other way, each circuit accompanied by an aggressive *TRRRP* sound, the growl of the tape almost like a wild animal. Certainly, as she bound her supple, feminine victim, Sinistrus seemed very much the predator, and Sophie her helpless, doe-like prey.

Indeed, there was a controlled aggression to Sinistrus' movements: the way she so carefully, yet so firmly handled her limp captive, manipulating her arms, holding her neck, pushing her torso back against the corridor's wall like she was posing a mannequin. She tied her ever tighter, compressing her limbs against her back like she was guiding a boa constrictor around her. She moved onto Sophie's legs, and was no less thorough, no less predatory. She seized Sophie's ankles, lifted her legs up in the air, seemingly uncaring that she was mercilessly exposing Sophie's frilly panties to the nearby gaze of the lecherous Greyhand.

But she was not rough, not forceful, exactly. It was merely that she was treating Sophie like what she was: helpless, and manipulable. She bound Sophie's legs with swiftness and strictness, wrapping four layers of tape around her ankles, and another six around the bottoms of her thighs. The tape stuck with ease to the fabric of Sophie's stockings, and bound her long, smooth legs so tightly that her limbs might as well have been the tail of a mermaid. The white tape was a stark contrast to the dark fabric of her stockings, somehow making her bonds all the more invasive.

Still more invasive was it when Sophie's soft mouth, whose words and kisses gave such pleasure to her lover, was sealed by a white strip of tape, clinging tightly to her supple skin. Sinistrus was just as thorough with Sophie's mouth as she'd been with her body, lifting her hair to seal the maiden's voice with layer after layer after layer of white tape. When Sinistrus was finished, the pretty damsel was not just gagged: she was muzzled. Sinistrus took her by the jaw, turning Sophie's head this way and that to inspect the security of her gag. She was just as unresisting as before to being so effortlessly manhandled.

Greyhand was no less enthusiastic with Falcona, but he was far less careful. Lifting the blonde up to her feet, the villain found her pleasantly light. As her head lolled back, he spun her around, pushed the svelte superheroine roughly against a wall. He seized her wrists, and with one snarl of tape later, he'd bound her arms up to her elbows. Then around her chest, pinning her upper arms against her back. She was so slim, so delicate, if he'd had one kind bone in his body he'd have been worried about injuring her. But he was Greyhand, and kindness was not a concept he even really understood.

He gagged her next, harshly slapping a strip of tape over her mouth, eliciting a small mew from her, a slight crinkle of her eyebrows.
"Heh, you are cute, aren't you? Like a pretty birdie...so let's clip your wings, little bird."
*TTRRRRRRPP!*
Round and round he spun her, cackling to himself as he controlled the lovely lady's body, tape going over her shoulders, around and between her breasts, over her flat stomach, pressing down the hem of her short dress. As he reached her legs, he hesitated, gripping her by her slim, slightly tanned thighs. God, they were tight! She looked like a little slip of a thing, but he could feel a bit of strength in those legs of hers. But still no match for him.

He suddenly felt angry. A bitter, repulsive anger that Falcona was unconscious, that she couldn't see him dominating her. Unlike his former colleague Gel-Belle - latterly Commander Caitiff - Greyhand didn't exactly have a bondage kink. Indeed, he preferred to fantasise about women throwing themselves at him, rather than he himself having to seize them. But theory was not practice, and in practice he had in his hands a beautiful woman in her late twenties unconscious, tied up and wearing a very short dress. He wanted her to see the extent to which he had her in his power.
"Fucking yuppie..." he growled, before tossing her unconscious form over his shoulder. He grabbed her legs, his calloused hands pawing at her smooth, soft limbs. He felt her less than ample chest against his back, felt the weight of her - or rather, the lightness. He quickly finished the job of binding her even as he carried her, messily wrapping tape around her calves, crossing her ankles. As he walked, one of her shoes slipped off her feet. He didn't care - he just ran his hands up and down her naked legs over and over, higher and -

"Greyhand..." A smooth voice kept him from going further. "Let's get on with it, shall we?"
"Uh, yeah, right," Raymond muttered, hoisting Falcona higher onto his shoulder, and beginning the not-so-difficult task of lugging the helpless waif down the passage. As for Sophie, she was hoisted up into Sinistrus' arms, her lovely legs dangling in the air, her head falling back. Her red hair flowed down towards the ground, her soft throat exposed to the jaws of any predator who cared to seize her. Utterly vulnerable, she was silent as Sinistrus took her, the feisty young heroine bound, gagged, and almost effortlessly tamed.

In theory, they should not have been able to access this passage, even with Greyhand's powers. The instant that the first alarm was sounded, each section of the prison was cut off from every other section by two security features. Even Sinistrus, who seemed just not to be noticed as she went about her business, could no longer move freely through the prison. The first feature was a series of thick, steel security doors. These were child's play for Greyhand to cut through, but there was an additional problem: a force-field barrier that Greyhand's abilities were powerless to affect. That was why Sinistrus had recruited more than just him, of course.
"Are y-y-y-you guys d-d-d-done yet?" Chupacabra stammered as her allies approached, her body shaking from the amount of energy flowing through her, as she sucked away a portion of the forcefield dividing her cell-block from the one Greyhand had been in. "I'm s-starting to f-f-f-feel kind w-w-w-w-weird!" The green-haired jailbird wasn't in pain, exactly, but she'd never absorbed this much energy at once before.

"Excellent work," Sinistrus said, easing Sophie a little higher, so the maiden's head seemed to rest affectionately against her chest.
"Wow, what a c-c-c-c-cutie!" Leanne said, seeing the pretty dame all taped up in Sinistrus' arms. "Wh-wh-who is sh-she?"
"Are you seriously that fucking stupid?" Greyhand spat. "It's Enhancegirl."
"H-h-hey, I d-d-didn't get as c-c-c-close a look as y-y-you!" Indeed, though Chupacabra had fought Enhancegirl before, it had been Raymond and Leanne who'd had the most contact with her. "God you're such an a-a-a-ssho-o-o-ole!"

Sinistrus frowned. Part of the reason for her decision to recruit these two had been because she knew they'd worked together in the past. She'd not realised things had been so bitter between the old comrades.
"There is much yet to be done," Sinistrus said. "Leanne, we will take our hostages to the F-Section," she said, referring to Leanne's block. "Greyhand, I need you to provide reinforcements in Q-Section." That was where he'd been imprisoned. "By now I imagine that the guards will be overwhelming our comrades." Greyhand nodded.
"You got it. And when this is all over...?"
"I'll keep my promise," she said, with a soft smile. "Don't worry."

She moved through the gap in the forcefield that Chupacabra had created, still bearing the slumbering Sophie in her arms. Greyhand unceremoniously dumped Falcona on the other side of the gap, stopping only to get one last look up her dress. Leanne took her hand away from the barrier, and it slammed shut, separating Raymond from the others. As this happened, he suddenly felt a little nervous. Around Sinistrus he'd been filled with confidence and purpose...but on his own he realised just how limited in application his powers were. Leanne winking at him as she took up the burden of carrying Falcona didn't much help matters either.

"Um, Sinistrus?" Leanne said, feeling a little awkward talking to her mysterious saviour with a woman tied up and slung over her shoulder.
"Yes?" Sinistrus replied. She looked at Leanne with large, grey eyes, batting her eyelashes and smiling softly. Leanne actually heard herself giving a little whimper before she continued speaking.
"Uh...what did you promise him?"
"Greyhand? I promised that I'd give him your friend Catherine to do with as he pleased. Oh, don't worry," she said with a slight laugh, before Leanne could voice her vociferous objections. "I have no intention of honouring a promise to that sickening, disgusting, sinful wretch of a man."
"Oh, uh, right!" Leanne said, relieved. "And...?"
"Will I still free you and your friend? Of course," Sinistrus replied. She looked down at Sophie's sleeping body, and to Chupacabra's great surprise, kissed her forehead with apparent fondness. "My master will save all of us."
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"God damn it!" Rowsdower growled, as he saw another of his men go down. "Pullman, we need another shot!"
"Right!" A tall young man clasped his hands together, and let out a burst of pressurised air, which wreaked havoc in the ranks of the rebellious prisoners.
"Nice shot," his superior said, wiping sweat from his brow. Though caught off guard by the chaos, they were beginning to push back. Rowsdower was not wholly pleased, however: he had a nasty feeling that all of this was his fault. Forrester had asked him to get Greyhand into the infirmary, and since Greyhand was such a 'raging jackass' he'd been more than willing to do it. And now he was hearing that Greyhand had broken out of the infirmary somehow - the riot couldn't be unconnected.

Still, at least they were winning. From within the cells of those whose collars had not been removed came shots and jeers, and not all of them were directed at the guards.
"Fuck you guys, you self-righteous jerks!" Mindblow shouted, banging on the bars of his cell. He had noticed that the majority of the men who'd been freed were more...ideologically driven than mercenary criminals like himself, and he had no love for such people.
"Are you sure you want to antagonise them?" Miles asked him, tapping his left hand on his bunk. He'd been dragged back to his cell just before the trouble had really started. "I don't think you want a target on your back, my man."
"Yeah, I guess...but, like, I'm a heartless criminal, and even I think they're assholes!" Miles laughed.

Three cells down, Catastrophe paced frustratedly. This would have been the perfect opportunity for him to show his mettle, but instead it was being left to the likes of Rockhead and Stalactite. He figured that the prisoners would lose: after all, eventually Hayward would intervene, but he would have liked to show his strength at some point.
"Hey hey!" Jason heard a whoop of delight from the cell next to him, and shortly thereafter saw its occupant running out and diving into the fray.
"What the...hell?" As he came closer to the bars of his cage, he saw that dozens of prisoners had been released, their collars gone, their powers unleashed. Rowsdower and crew now had to contend with lightning bolts, belched acid and more. It was only when a scowling, thin-haired man with a look of total contempt on his face came into view that Catastrophe realised what was going on.

"Greyhand!" Jason spat, matching the man's contempt entirely. "You're the one doing this? Why?"
"Nothing for you to worry about," Greyhand replied. "You can stew here, I think."
"C'mon, let me out!" Catastrophe demanded. "I'm way stronger than most of the guys down there! I could turn this around for you!"
"Maybe, maybe not," Greyhand said. "You know, actually, now that I think about it, my special hand's stored up a loooot of metal. Maybe if you apologise for hurting me, I'll only blind one of your eyes."

Raymond was expecting fear, or at least anger. He was more than a little perturbed by the shit-eating grin on Jason's face.
"What's so funny, you -" Greyhand stopped talking when he noticed that he was standing a large shadow. He turned around, slowly.
"Did you say you were going to hurt Catastrophe?" a giant hulk of a man said. Greyhand growled, opened his hand, and launched a volley of nails and bolts at him. They bounced off so obviously harmlessly that Raymond wasn't sure that the giant had noticed. "Did you hear me? Were you going to hurt Catastrophe?"
"Uh...what, me? N-no way, man! Of course not!" Greyhand had released him only a moment prior, but hadn't recognised him for who he was.
"Then let him out."
"Uh, right, yeah, sure," Greyhand said. Turning around, he saw Catastrophe grinning even more widely than before.

Raymond cut through Catstrophe's bars, then - with a little more prompting - erased his collar as well.
"Aaaaahhh, that feels better!" Jason laughed, striding out into the open. "Thanks for the assist, Hammerblow." It was indeed he who had threatened Greyhand. "Run along, Colonel Cad," Jason giggled. "The grown-ups are talking." Greyhand did as he was told, but made a mental note to put a knife in Jason's back if at all remotely convenient.

"Hammerblow, it's good to see you!" Jason said. "Do you understand what's happening?"
"A...prison break?" Hammerblow replied, simply.
"I'm not sure. More like a riot. I figure it's some kind of distraction for something, but I'm not sure I care what. I see this as an opportunity for us to make a name for ourselves." Smiling, he kick-started the generator inside his body, feeling the power welling up, his spiky black hair quivering as if in delight as an aura of gold light faded into existence. "Mindblow's a few doors down. Now that you're here we don't even need Greyhand to get him out. I can smash his cell open, and you can snap his collar off."
"Uh, Catastrophe..." Hammerblow said. He looked almost sheepish. "I can't take your orders." Catastrophe turned around very slowly.
"And why's that?"
"I work for Hades now."

Jason took a step closer. He was barely half Hammerblow's height, but he squared up to him all the same. He looked with eternally angry eyes into the dull eyes of his former underling.
"You work for me now." There was a silence. Hammerblow stared at him, his eyes twitching back and forth as though he were processing like a slow computer.
"I..." He smiled. "I work for you now!"
"Damned right. Now let's -"

He was about to order Hammerblow to start freeing Mindblow, when he heard the screams. He didn't even need to hear them. He felt it. They all did. The spikes of his hair rose up even higher, and even Hammerblow's odd little mop was standing on end.
"Back! Get back!" the rioters screamed, as arcs of lightning shot through them.
"You dare!" the wielder of that lightning half-screamed. "You dare to try this here?! You'd better run back to your cells with your tails between your legs, or I'll scorch every last one of you!"
"The Generator!" Jason gasped, seeing for the first time the Warden's full power as he swept away the rioters with terrifying ease.
"Welp," Mindlow said, seeing the carnage unfold, "it was fun while it lasted, I guess."
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Telepath." That was the very first thought that entered the mind of Sophie Scott as she came back to consciousness. "That's...that's how she...got me..." She was still dazed from the halothane, her vision still fuzzy to say the least, but she didn't waste a second thinking about the enemy who had suckered her in so easily. She recalled how Natalya could use her powers to make herself difficult to notice. Obviously that strange woman who had captured her had a similar power. She'd been defeated before, of course, but perhaps never quite so frustratingly. If she'd just...noticed that that woman had been there!

"Mmmhh...mmrrrmphh!" It didn't take long for Sophie to discover that she'd been bound, though she was struck by the sheer tightness of it. The way her arms were bound, with her lower torso so strictly squeezed - it was like someone had stuffed her into a corset. She tried to move her legs, but found her limbs thoroughly united by white medical tape. "Grrrmmmmmphhh!" she complained, throwing her red hair back, stamping her high-heeled feet against the ground. "Mmmm-RMMMPHHH!!" She strained her supple body against the tape, but she was no match for it. "Mmmph! Mmm-hhhmmmphhh!" Even her lips were bound, forced shut by the seal of tape over her mouth. "Captured..." It was a word of great complication in Sophie's life. An idea that a poisonous lover had once used to manipulate her, a constant bane and peril of her superheroic career - and one which, in the right circumstances could be very enjoyable. If Mariko had done this to her, she'd probably have been purring like a kitten. But now? Now she was just humiliated.

"MMMPHHH!" This cry had not come from Sophie.
"Falcona!" Indeed, the blonde was nowhere to be seen. Shaking her head to cast aside her grogginess, Sophie saw that she'd been put into a cell. She tried to shuffle forward to see her companion in captivity, but to her dismay, she found herself gripped by the shoulders, and hauled up to her feet. "Whhgmmphh?!" A hand clasped her by her thinly covered thighs, another by her ripe bosom, pulled her close.
"Hey there, little hottie." A woman's voice in her ear - but not the seductive silkiness of Sinistrus. Nor indeed was the touch on her slender form so skilful. Whoever it was who had her, Sophie suspected strongly that she was that worst of things: a lackey.


Outside, the other woman Sinistrus had captured had awoken in her mysterious captor's company, held tightly against the woman's chest by an arm wrapped around her spry, slim figure.
"If you do not back away, and leave this cell block completely," Sinistrus called out - loudly but calmly - at the few guards who'd remained in their section, "then this woman dies." The guards looked towards Ramona Thompson, the most powerful of their number, and their de facto leader. Their communications had been cut, and Ramona was the only authority left to them.
"Ramona, what do we do? I - " She lowered her voice. "She has a keycard for the cells, and I can't trigger the collars. Something's seriously messed up."
"What?" She had barely been listening to her colleagues, her eyes almost impossible to draw away from Sinistrus. "Uh...we need to retreat. Fall back to Q-Section, maybe help out there."
"What?!" Another barked. "We can't just -"
"This is more than just a riot!" Ramona shot back. "The only way the collar system could have failed is if it had been sabotaged. Someone - one of us is working against us. Or more than one. And I don't know about you, but I'm not trained to deal with hostage situations!"

"Nmmmphh!" Falcona cried out, reading their lips with her formidable vision. "Dnnhhh llhhhvv!" She knew what was happening, even if she didn't know all the details. She had faced Sinistrus before - and lost to her. But more than that, she knew who the silver-haired woman was. She knew, indeed, why she had taken the name Sinistrus. "You dull-witted - it doesn't matter if she kills me! Whatever she's doing must be stopped even if we all need to throw ourselves on the grenade!"

But they did not know what Falcona knew. They just knew that they had lost control of the situation, and that they no longer knew how their presence could be useful. As they left F-Section in the control of the prisoners, a semi-enthusiastic cheer went up. Not all of the women in this block were career criminals, and many of them were wary. When the riot was inevitably suppressed, they didn't want their sentences being increased - most had a decent expectation of returning to their lives outside. But still less did anyone wish to cross this woman. Some, like Falcona, recognised her, though most simply realised that she was formidable. Caitiff, who'd been watching carefully from her unlocked cell, fell into the latter category. She was especially worried by the fact that her dear Leanne was standing at Sinistrus' side - though, of course, she wasn't jealous at seeing her young friend in the company of such a gorgeous woman.
"Something fucky going down here," Smokin' muttered to her.
"Mm," Catherine off-handedly replied. "Maybe I should make it my business to find out exactly how fucky it is..."


"I don't know what the hell's going on around here," Gridiron cackled, roughly fondling the lissome redhead's long, warm legs, "but when I got asked to look after a sexy redhead in heels and a teeny-little skirt - well, shit, I wasn't gonna complain, was I?"
"Frgghmhh yyhhh!" Early in her career, the very prospect of being tied up and at the mercy of some loose-moraled thug would have been enough to make her afraid, but now Sophie felt angry, frustrated, embarrassed - any number of negative emotions. But fear was not one of them. She'd been captured by cult leaders, brainwashing psychics, slavers, a vampire - and Hades of course, the most terrifying opponent she'd ever faced. Defeat stung no less than it ever did - but it took a lot more these days to intimidate Enhancegirl. Yet even so, Gridiron wasn't finished.

"Feisty little kittycat, huh? Well, we'll soon put a stop to that." She grabbed Sophie, and slammed her hard into a wall.
"Mmmhhh!" Sophie cried out. She saw Gridiron for the first time: a little taller than her, white, but deeply tanned, with short, curly black hair. She wasn't the ugliest woman in the world, but she had a...squarish quality to her. "Mmh!" This had been a gasp, as Gridiron tore her blouse open, snapping three of her buttons, revealing her bust and her lacy bra. "Nmmhh! NMMHHHH!" Sophie cried out, seeing her chest exposed. "What the hell is she doing?!"
"It turns out I'm one of the tougher ones in here," Gridiron said, slipping Sophie's blouse and the straps of her bra from her pale, wriggling shoulders. "So that means I get to have fun with the pretty ones in here when I can get away with it...but they're all crooks and scumbags like me. No...it's much more fun to make the good girls whimper..."

She pulled Sophie's blouse down further, totally exposing her shoulders, her clavicles and the tops of her breasts. Sophie looked at her with a mixture of anger and shock as her supple skin was uncovered.
"God, you're so fucking hot!" Gridiron growled. Her molestations were far from subtle: she kneaded Sophie's bosoms between her fingers, then ran her hands down over the lithe contours of Sophie's gymnastic body, squeezing her hips, pressing them against her own. "Those springy little tits, those gams...god fucking damn it!" She ran her hands further down, gripping and stroking Sophie's long, tightly-bound legs. She felt the well-shaped, feminine lines of her thighs, the curve of the backs of her calves. Though Sophie fought, Sinistrus had simply bound her too well. She groaned and whimpered through her thorough gag, incensed at having this...nobody taking advantage of her like this.

And yet as Gridiron rubbed her hands up and down Sophie's sylphlike legs, enjoying the 'swish' of her stockings as her hand grazed over them, a new thought popped uninvited into Sophie's head.
"You deserve this." She almost shuddered as she thought this, like she'd been injected with it. She tried to dismiss this thought as nonsense, but it persisted. "You were a stupid, arrogant little bimbo," she found herself thinking. "You ran in, half-cocked as always, and you got yourself captured. Again." She let out a timorous mew, and Gridiron found her victim's struggles getting much less vigorous.

Taking advantage of Sophie's newfound meekness, Gridiron pulled her down onto her bunk, sitting her on the edge of it as she continued to grope her. Now she began aggressively kissing her neck, her shoulders. She even entwined her fingers with Sophie's hair and pulled on it, pulling Sophie's head back.
"Mmmpppphhh!" the fetching captive whimpered, blushing as she felt herself touched all over. "This is what you get, Sophie," she thought again. "You're going to be fondled and controlled and embarrassed, because you fucked it up again. A prison full of experienced, powerful superhumans, and you thought you would be the right person to dive in after Falcona? Maybe Mariko's less arrogant nowadays because you took all that arrogance for yourself!"

Sophie turned her head away from Gridiron, shamefaced, and breathing as hard as a heroine in a harlequin romance, the corset-like tightness of her bondage only emphasising this.
"Whoa, what's happened to you?" Gridiron laughed. "You've taken the 'good girl' thing to heart, huh? Well that's fine by me..." She reached down, and began peeling Sophie's stockings down her legs. Because of her bonds, she could only pull them down as far as her knees, but this wasn't much of a problem. She put her hands on Sophie's moist thighs, which rubbed against each other slowly, sinuously as Gridiron felt her captive's fine, naked skin, light beads of sweat making it all the smoother as Gridiron fondled her.
"Mmmph...mmpph..." Sophie moaned softly, throbbing - pulsing - with humiliation as Gridiron had her way with the nubile girl. "God, look at yourself...you're so defenceless...so pretty and soft, and weak..."

Suddenly, Sophie's green eyes shot wide open, like she'd been jolted with a taser.
"Wait, what the hell am I saying?" In an instant, her patterns of thought totally changed. She went from simpering, guilty, and self-loathing to, yes, angry, embarrassed and aghast at the way her gorgeous body was being treated - but the damning verdict she'd been giving herself only a few moments ago seemed almost ridiculous now. Yes, she'd been perhaps too quick to act, but Falcona had been in imminent, immediate danger and it hadn't been foolish to think that she could help her. No - Sophie brushed the guilt and shame away, feeling rage and courage welling inside her.

"Mmrrmph!" Sophie growled in protest. She narrowed her eyes venomously, and Gridiron looked back with confusion.
"Hey, what gives? Go back to moaning and quivering, that was way hotter than the...feisty thing you're doing now."
"Khhss mhh hhss," Sophie said. Muzzled though she was, her meaning was all too clear. "You want to feel me, you brainless jackass? Fine. Feel this!" Before Gridiron could possibly react, Sophie slammed her forehead into her nose. She'd show Gridiron that she wouldn't be cowed.

Except, unfortunately for Sophie, it just didn't work.

"MMMHHHH!" Sophie cried out in pain as her head bounced from Gridiron's nose, her head throbbing. "Ow! What the...that was like headbutting concrete!" Without her enhanced senses to inform her she couldn't see that Gridiron's power, low-level though it was, made her more or less immune to that sort of manoeuvre.
"You tricky little skank!" Gridiron said, almost laughing. "Tryin' to lull me into a false sense of security, or something? Well you screwed it up. I have a reinforced skeleton - you'd need to be Imperion to break my nose, girl!"
"Oh, shit!" Sophie thought. She'd blown it, and Gridiron did not look best pleased with her. She tried to wriggle away, but Gridiron seized her by her exposed shoulders, pulled the wriggling redhead in. "Mmmph! MMMPHHH!!" Sophie cried out through the many layers of her gag. "No! No, that should have worked! I...god damn it, I just shook off that feeling and now...god fucking damn it!!"
"Stop squirming!" Gridiron barked. "You brought this on yourself!"

Much stronger anyway than Sophie, with the maiden bound it was simplicity itself for Gridiron to pull Sophie up, then roughly shove her back down onto the bunk, bending her over it, Sophie's shapely rear sticking out with great prominence.
"I think you need to be punished, girl," Gridiron said, positively licking her lips.
"Grrhhmph! GGRHHMMMPHHH!" Sophie was not about to take this lying down. It was an irritatingly familiar refrain. She tried to kick out with her long, partly exposed legs, but Gridiron held her down too tightly. "Mmh!" She gasped, as she felt the convict taking the hem of her tight, black skirt, and hoisting it up. "Nnnnmmhhh!"
"Oooh, what do we have here?" Gridiron said. She ran a hand over the pale, yielding flesh she'd exposed, squeezing, massaging Sophie's tight behind. "You're not such a skinny little slice of nothing, are you?" Gridiron said. "Got just a liiiiitle bit of junk in the trunk...heh! I love a gal with a heart-shaped ass."
"Mmh!" Sophie squealed, feeling herself being unwantedly touched. "Fuck you if you think this is gonna humiliate me!"

"I like your skin, girl. Such a nice, creamy pale...but I'd prefer a stronger colour."
"MH!" Sophie cried out, as she felt the first slap against her rear's taut flesh. "MMMH! MMHH! NNNMMPHHH!" Each cry accompanied another slap, as Sophie felt the sting through her entire body. She bucked, and struggled, but she was powerless to resist.
"I don't know who you are," Gridiron said, "but since Miss Fishscales brought you in with Falcona, I'm thinking you might just be a superheroine as well. And now you're getting spanked, pretty girl." She laughed. "You know the best part? When I was on the outside, I was as low-rent as it gets. But inside? I'm one of the toughest there is! Inside, people are afraid of me. Inside - I get to spank redheads in short skirts who wiggle their cute little asses right in my face!"

"MMMPHH! NNNNNMMMPHHH!!" Sophie moaned, fighting as hard as she could, but failing miserably. She felt not only the shame and embarrassment of being spanked, but the shame of being tied up. Her lovely, long limbs so tightly restrained, her complaints reduced to wordless moans. Anyone could have done this to her in her present state. Just a few strips of tape and she was nothing more than a damsel, a victim to be seized, fondled and treated however her captors liked. Her skill, her power was useless to her like this, with her body bound fast. All she could do was writhe and whimper, and put on a good show. This shame did not feel so dissonant: Sophie no longer felt like she deserved her ordeal, but her semi-oath had already been broken - Gridiron was humiliating her. Sophie didn't feel much like a superheroine at that moment, even a captive one. Perhaps because she'd been taken down without a fight, perhaps because she wasn't in costume - whatever the reason, at that moment Sophie Scott felt very much like a slender, nineteen-year-old college student, getting spanked and fondled by a ruthless, dangerous criminal.

"Had enough?" Gridiron said, panting. "Well good, 'cause I haven't either!" She shoved Sophie down onto the bunk, face-up, and leapt upon her. She lost all restraint, roughly pawing at Sophie's breasts, running her hand over and between Sophie's vulnerable thighs. She kissed her neck, her shoulders, her face, thrusting herself against Sophie's body. The redhead wriggled and bucked, but couldn't get herself away. "You're all mine, girl. Unnhh, you're so smooth! God...you know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna grab that little cutie with the green hair, and have my fun with both of ya at once..."
"Not sure I'd be okay with that."

Gridiron had a strong skeleton, to be sure, but her muscles were far from supernatural. Therefore, when another woman grabbed her by the arm, and hauled her off Sophie's body, there wasn't a great amount she could do about it at first.
"You've got some - Blllmmhhghh!" She didn't get another word in. A glob of pink gel slapped down over her face, covering her mouth, her nose and her eyes. "BLLRHHHRHGHH - HHHRRGHH!"
"Some 'blllmmhhghh', huh?" the other woman said. "Is that good or bad?" She punched Gridiron in the stomach for the second time that day, and then shoved her reeling body out of her cell. "And stay out!" She wiped off her hands. "Don't fuck with Gel-Belle, you got it?" She smiled, and turned to the girl lying in the bunk.

"Don't get the wrong idea," she said, coming closer. "I'm not gonna let you go. I don't think I could get away with -" She froze. Looking down, she saw a pair of emerald eyes staring up at her with fear - but that was only part of what she saw.
"Commander Caitiff!" Sophie knew this woman, alright. Along with Greyhand, she'd kidnapped her and Mariko back in Ferndale. Unlike Greyhand, she'd almost been rougher and more brazen with Enhancegirl than even Gridiron had been. And she'd found Sophie half-stripped, tied up, and completely powerless.

Caitiff gaped. She recognised Sophie instantly: how could she not? And there she was - totally at her mercy. Her bare shoulders wiggling so fetchingly, her ripe, white breasts heaving against her bra, threatening to push their last covering off at any moment. Her long legs...so shapely and caressable, her creamy thighs moist with sweat of her bound exertions. Her cheeks were red, her gagged moans sweet, her face so lovely, her hair silky...
"Mmmhh?" Sophie quailed. She saw the lust in Catherine's eyes, saw her begin to pant as her hands neared Sophie's nubile, defenceless body. She was so very beautiful, and so very helpless...
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Caduceus, for his part, had not been idle during the period of Sophie's and his wife's captivity. Indeed, at the same time that Sophie was being ensorcelled by the chemical spell that Sinistrus had weaved over her, Falcona's husband had been having a rather...heated argument with the two guards who had separated him from his wife.
"You treacherous bastards!" he shouted, flooring one of them with a devastating punch that broke two of Caduceus' knuckles. "This is a - a plot or something! You had her stand in that exact spot for a reason - who's taken her? Why?" He clasped his injured hand in his good one, emitting a warm light. In three seconds, he was healed.
"You'd better stop playing the tough guy, Caduceus," the other man - Forrester - said, "or your wife isn't the one you'll need to worry about." He clenched his fist, extending short spikes from the backs of his hands. "'Pincushion' was always a dumb name, but it gets the -"

Caduceus, as it might be imagined, did not have a power that was directly useful in combat. However, the life of a superhero was never one where violence could be avoided for long. For this reason, he had trained himself vigorously to be more useful. It was not that he was the greatest martial artist in the world - even powerless, Sophie could probably have run rings around him - but he was also very, very strong. When 'Pincushion' shot the spikes at him, he dodged one outright, and allowed another to impale him. He didn't stop.

"What the fuck?!" Caduceus had barely flinched. He barrelled at Forrester like a bison in full charge, grabbed him by the shoulders, and headbutted him so hard that he reduced the cartilage in the man's nose to splinters. "AUUUGHHH!!" Forrester screamed, collapsing to his knees in total agony.
"Tell me what you did, and why," Caduceus pronounced, "and I'll heal you." He pulled the spike out of his body with a grimace, and again applied his power to himself. It was a shallow healing - for full restoration his powers took a long time to work.
"Y-you asshole!" Forrester almost screamed. "We were gonna tell you anyway! We're blackmailing you!"
"What do you mean?" Caduceus said. "What do you want from me?" He put his hand to Forrester's nose, and healed him just enough that he wouldn't be hysterical.
"We knew if we kidnapped you," Forrester said, panting with relief, "you'd die before you did what we want. But since we have your wife..." He looked up, and the blood gushing from his nose made his smile look particularly gruesome.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Caduceus said. "What do you want from me?"
"We want you to heal our leader," Forrester replied. "And if you don't - do you really want to know what might happen to your wife in a place like this?"
"I -" Caduceus wavered. "Felicity..."
"Her name's 'Felicity'?" Forrester laughed. "Now that's irony for you!"

Enraged by his enemy's making light of his wife's peril, Caduceus grabbed Forrester by the collar, and slammed him into a wall.
"If you don't give her back, I will heal you, then break you, then heal you - over and over again until you beg me to just let you bleed to death!"
"It wouldn't matter! I'm not in contact with the group who has your wife. The only way she doesn't die is if you do as you're told." Caduceus let him go. He raised his fist, but lowered it again.
"You'll pay for this. And that's no idle threat. I know who you are! Even if you kill me, it'll be obvious that it was you?" Forrester snorted.
"You think I care about that? When my boss gets free, it's not gonna matter if everyone in the world knows I did it!" Caduceus opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't think of anything to say.
"Uuuurrghh..." the other guard - Randolph - groaned, hauling himself to his feet. "I'm...guessing you've figured out the score, Mister Francis. Come with us if you want your pretty wife to stay pretty."
"...who?" Caduceus said, his voice hoarse.
"Who? Isn't it obvious?" Forrester sneered. "Who's the one guy who could have infiltrated this place so easily? Who's the one guy who'd command this kind of loyalty?"
"...Hades?" Caduceus said, with not a little fear.

The two villains looked at each other - then both burst out laughing.
"Hades? Are you fucking kidding me? That circus clown pervert? No, you idiot," Forrester cackled. "When I called him 'our' leader - I meant he's yours too. The rightful leader of all of us, of all the superior breed!" Caduceus froze. While 'Hades' might have been the latest name to chill the blood of a superhero, for those of Caduceus' generation there would always be one name that would strike more terror than any other could.
"The Supremacist!"
Damselbinder

"This is a huge problem," Imperion said, the great man tenting his fingers over his desk. His adjutant, Panhellius, stood behind him, arms folded, a deep frown of contemplation marking his small, sharp features.
"No arguments from us," Fahrenheit, one of the other members of the Pauldron, replied. "What do you want done?" Imperion sat back in his chair, and Panhellius answered for him. Mariko and Chryseis were nearby, both frowning intently. Mariko's eyes were darting back and forth between her allies', trying to gauge their reactions, partly in order to calibrate her own.
"Right now, damage control," Panhellius said. "Nova, you've got the best relationship with Palmerston. He's not going to be a happy man, so offer him anything he wants. This is...well, it's far south of good."
"Yeah, of course," Nova replied. She looked like she was trying very hard not to be upset.

In fact, the Pauldron were not discussing the events of the Penitentiary Supreme. Philip Hayward, its warden, was not a man who took embarrassment well, and when he'd locked down the prison, he'd locked down all communications as well. No, they were discussing a matter perhaps even graver.
"Sorry I'm late." This was Askancepoint. He'd signed his apology to Imperion, but none of the others even knew the silent hero had arrived until Imperion signed back. To Fahrenheit, who appeared to be nursing a few injuries, he signed: "What's going on?"
"There's been an attack in San Francisco," Fahrenheit replied, briefly patting Askancepoint's shoulder, before adding: "On the police."

Ten had died. These were not SWAT officers or CAEP specialists, but perfectly ordinary beat cops. They'd been ambushed by two young superhumans, kids really, who'd apparently decided to test their powers on the police. There were talks of gang affiliations, but everything was still up in the air as to ultimate motive. A CAEP unit had, eventually, been able to subdue them, but only with help from a local heroine, and they'd been hospitalised as a result - delaying interrogation. This, alas, was only the latest such attack in the past few weeks, though it was the first not to claim allegiance to Hades.

As the Pauldron's members turned to the hustle and bustle of sorting out what to do, rearranging appointments and reassigning missions, Mariko - who had thus far merely listened - stepped forward. This was the sort of thing that, while Mariko was unused to it, she had expected and hoped to be part of as a member of the Pauldron: upholding justice on a larger scale than the mere foiling of Seacouver's cartoonish supervillains.
"Derek," she said, venturing to use Panhellius' real name, "I would like to accompany Sara to San Francisco. My recent increase in popularity there might be helpful." Derek looked sceptical. He glanced at Imperion. "If and only if I were actually useful," Mariko added. "If you think I've assessed the situation wrongly, by all means say so." Derek seemed to be about to tell her just that, when Jackson intervened.
"Sara, this is your area of expertise, right? What's your take?"

The starlit maiden did not have her aspect of power about her at that moment. She had been training in the Pauldron's gym, and panted slightly still, her petite body glistening with sweat in her quite revealing training gear. So her hesitation before answering could easily have been blamed on her tiredness, and that was certainly how Mariko interpreted it.
"...I'm sure I could use the help," Sara said, smiling at her newest ally. "I'd be grateful, yeah." Mariko bowed slightly in response. "Do you want to ask Fletcher to fly us? I'm a little worn out."
"Certainly," Mariko replied. After a slightly awkward shuffle as to who would go first, the two heroines left together, Sara's short, rapid steps only just about able to keep up with Mariko's coltishly long strides.

Fahrenheit watched them go, his eyes narrowed. There was an air of strange tension. "Is it just me," he said to his erstwhile companion, "or is something going on between those two?"
"Tsk-tsk, Mark," Shane signed with a smile. "Don't objectify our colleagues. You - ow!" Seemingly out of nowhere, a paper ball had hit him on the forehead. Shane glowered at Panhellius. "What was that for?" he signed angrily. Derek didn't understand much ASL, but he got the gist.
"This is no time for levity," Derek barked at the pair.
"It never is with you," Fahrenheit replied. "Would it kill you to smile every once in a while?"
"People have died. Forgive me for not having a tickled funnybone. You should take all this more seriously." He all but turned up his nose at Fahrenheit, and the master of friction clenched a fist in umbrage.
"Well, when my sense of humour turns me into an unfeeling monster, I give you permission to criticise me for it. Until then, Limey Gonzales, I give you permission to get off my ass." Panhellius' hand tapped the pommel of his sword.
"There is fine line between people looking well upon superhumans because of the threats we can protect them from, and people seeing us as the threat."
"Hence sending the pretty girls off to do the PR work, eh?" Fahrenheit gave a sardonic grin. "The acceptable face of superheroism?"
"You know perfectly well how crucial public relations are to our work," Panhellius replied. "It's how you enjoy that carte blanche you like so much." Fahrenheit opened his mouth to give some cutting retort, but he saw Chryseis glowering at him, and was chastened into changing tack.
"I just wish we didn't have to...kowtow," Fahrenheit growled. "Don't they know how much they need us?"
"That," Panhellius replied, "might well be part of the problem." Behind him, Imperion tented his fingers. He appeared to be very deep in thought.

Mariko and Nova sat across from each other in the helicopter. With a graceful gesture, Sara had transformed herself, clad now in her elegant white dress, and Mariko in the silvery warrant of Spectra. There was audible silence as the helicopter took off.
"I knew -" Nova began, but stopped herself.
"Were you going to say something?" Mariko said. "I've an ear or two if you wish to use continue."
"Thanks," Nova said. "I'm not sure if it matters much, but one of the cops who died - I knew her. I went to high-school with her, actually."
"Oh," Mariko said. Then after a pause: "I'm sorry to hear that." Another pause.
"Don't worry," Nova said. "We weren't bosom buddies or anything."
"I, er, I see." Nova narrowed her eyes at Mariko for a moment, but her expression changed back too quickly for Mariko to get anything out of it. She felt like something wasn't quite right, but she couldn't figure out what.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Mmmhhh! Mmhhhhnnnmmphh!" Sophie mewed, wriggling her half-exposed, trussed up body, her long, moist legs rubbing against each other, her bosom shaking so very visibly as she tried to get away from the woman standing over her. The captured, helpless redhead recalled only too well how that woman had treated her the last time she'd had her in her grasp. The frenzied, desperate lust was there in her eyes again, those eyes which seemed to tear the clothes from Sophie's body as they looked at her. She blushed with shame as she remembered the villainess dragging her from potential escape, hurling her over her knee and spanking her so hard that she made Gridiron look like a gentle novice. "Oh, Jesus-fuck, what's she gonna do to me this time?"

"Oh, Christ," Caitiff thought, seeing the achingly lovely girl was in her power once again. Her blush of shame - so virginal, so maidenly - made Catherine's heart pound against her ribs. She licked her lips without even meaning to, finding her hands extending towards the mewing, writhing damsel. She was so powerless, ripe, and sexy and there for the taking, to be fondled and spanked, and stripped and anything else Catherine could imagine. God, she could feel it, she could feel herself being drawn in. It was bizarre, how the tied-up, gagged, half undressed captive had so much power over her.

She remembered bitterly when Hades had found Catherine peeking lustfully at her collection. She'd thought the villain meant to kill her, but instead Hades had pulled out one of the many sleeping, helpless heroines - Wonder Lass, or something - and forced Catherine into rubbing her bare legs and her breasts, had her drink in the pomegranate-smell of the stasis tank she'd been kept in. Laughed at her when prompting was no longer necessary to bring out her lust - and had done it again and again until Gel-Belle could barely look at an attractive woman without imagining herself dominating them, turning a mere kinky streak into borderline obsession, darkening, twisting it. Turning her into something ugly. And ugly had been the world, ugly had been life for Catherine - until a certain wannabe-actress with the sweetest, naughtiest smile she'd ever seen had wandered into view.

And it was for her sake that Catherine withdrew her hand.
"No!" she shouted, and for good measure, she slammed her hand so hard into the nearest wall that her knuckles bled. "I have free will, don't I?" She turned to Sophie who, not privy to Catherine's agonising, was more than a little puzzled.
"What the hell's up with her?"
"Listen to me," Catherine said. "I know what you think about me, and you're probably right. But I'm not...I'm not Greyhand, alright? I'm a bad person, but I'm not evil. Okay?" She seemed actually to expect an answer, so Sophie - still not entirely convinced that Catherine's better nature had a hold of her - nodded slowly. "Do you know what's going on?" Sophie shook her head, her pretty mouth still thoroughly gagged. "But it's bad?" Sophie nodded again. "How bad?"
"Uhh, whll, rhhll fhhkknghh bhhhddhh!" Sophie growled, certainly pleased not to be touched, but hardly thrilled at still being tied up.
"Okay, I got it, I got it," Catherine said. She went back near to the bars, looked outside. Sinistrus had surrounded herself with a large entourage, not least of whom was Leanne. "Shit..." Far, far fewer than half the women in that section had actively participated in the riot, and fewer still were with Sinistrus, but it was still almost twenty-five superhumans.

Without Gridiron to stop her, Sophie now did what she'd intended to do in the first place. Squirming herself off the bunk, she rose to her feet - not easy with her legs bound and her hands tied behind her back - and hopped close enough to the bars that she could see outside. She, too, saw Sinistrus' entourage, but she also saw the woman herself - and the woman she carried: a certain slim, petite blonde, held high in Sinistrus' arms.

"Mmmmhh!" Falcona complained, kicking her tanned legs, throwing her short hair back and forth, unable even to dislodge herself from Sinistrus' grip, let alone escape the sticky tape that bound her. She heard the laughter of the women who had surrounded Sinistrus, saw them pointing and jeering at the defeated heroine in her flouncy summer dress. It embarrassed her, of course, but mostly she was just fuming at her luck. "I volunteer to come with Simon to see that darling, deadbeat brother of his and what does it get me? Taken hostage and tied up! I'd better earn a metric tonne of good karma for this..." She glowered at Sinistrus, nursing an earnest desire to boot her right in the face.

As for Sinistrus, she barely even looked at Falcona, seeming entirely uninterested in her. It seemed like the silvery-haired villain was waiting for something, and Falcona had a pretty good idea of what. Felicity knew her, knew who she worked for. It was all too clear what she wanted. She turned her supreme vision upward, scanned around. She saw everything. She saw the battle raging in Q-Section. Saw the guards still stationed in A and B-Sections nervously watching their low powered charges. Saw a failed attempt to join the riots in D-Section that had been put down by the guards, even without access to the control collars. And, finally, she saw her husband, being led along by Forrester and Randolph...right to the highest security section of the entire prison.
"Oh, god, Simon, don't be a fool!"


Simon, or Caduceus as most knew him, thought much the same thing to himself as he was led along, a pistol poking into his back.
"She wouldn't want me to do it..." he thought. "She'd want me to let her -" He couldn't even finish the thought. He knew he would do it. He wouldn't risk her. He couldn't.
"Forrester, what are you doing here?" There was one woman guarding the security door. Each of the ten top-priority cells were located in a different part of the prison's lowest levels, and this one had been given one of the Penitentiary Supreme's strongest defenders.
"Lara," Forrester said, the gorilla of a man moving with friendly ease towards her. Yet Caduceus could see the slight hesitation in his bearing. Lara - tall, trim, and with a touch of Arabic in her appearance - flexed her right hand, producing a brief flash of microwave energy. She was probably the second, maybe third most powerful guard at the Penitentiary Supreme. If she'd wished, she could have killed all three men in about six seconds.

"Hey, I don't know what's going on elsewhere, but there's gotta be some freaky shit happening, yes?" Lara said, brushing long, black hair out of her face. "I can't get through to anybody. What the fuck is going on? Who's this asshole?"
"Don't you know him? That's Caduceus, the healer," Forrester said. He kept trying to get closer, but was edging very slowly. "Rowsdower and his men are getting the crap kicked out of them. Doc' over here happened to be by, offered to lend a hand."
"Well, great, but..." She narrowed her eyes at Rowsdower. She looked as fragile as a lily compared to him, but she had vastly more power than he ever would. "But Rowsdower's over in Q-Section, isn't he? So why are you here?" Forrester opened his mouth to speak, but he withered under Lara's gaze.
"He's got a gun!" Randolph shouted, and shoved Caduceus hard onto the ground.

That was all that was needed. Lara stepped forward, charging her powers in her hand. It didn't take her long to realise that Caduceus had no gun, but that wasn't the point. The point was that she Forrester was now behind her.
"KYAHHHH!!" Lara screamed, as her colleague shoved a taser into her back. Her body convulsed, shook, as electricity coursed through her body. She tried to turn around, but all too soon, her body went limp, her arms falling to her sides. "Unnghhh..." she groaned, as Forrester pulled the taser out. She dropped to her knees, slumping onto the ground, unconscious.

"Christ!" Caduceus rushed forward, took the fallen guard in his arms. "Was that really necessary?!" He put his hand on the small of her back, and began applying his power to her, but was swiftly interrupted by Forrester kicking him in the kidney. He cried out in pain, turning and glowering at his attacker.
"Is she gonna die?"
"No," Caduceus admitted.
"Then what's the problem? Let's get on with this."

Forrester and Randolph placed their security passes into two slots on either side of the door, turning them simultaneously. With a loud buzzing, the door opened. It was huge, more like the hatch of a safe than anything else. Even with it unlocked, Randolph and Forrester had to work together just to pull it open.
"Aww, shit!" Randolph let go when the door was only open a few inches. "It didn't work!" He kicked the door, stubbed his toe, yelled in pain and frustration.
"The field's still up?!" Forrester rushed round to see, and - indeed - there was a solid wall of crackling energy between them and the final security door. "I thought you took care of it when you sabotaged the collars."
"They must have added another backup generator or something!" Randolph said. "Now what do we do?"
"You lose," Caduceus said. "Whether I'm helping you or not doesn't matter now - if you can't get into his cell, this plan fails. The two of you should tell your partner to release my wife, and then you should run away, as fast as you can."
"Shut up!" Forrester yelled. "You think we give up that easily? No - we just need a little backup is all. Isn't that right, Red Alert?" He was speaking to Randolph. The guard grinned.
"Oh, right!"
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"No!" Hayward bellowed, lightning coursing from his body, the whole of Q-Section lit with a phosphorescent blue. "This is not happening! Not today! Not here!" A wave of his hand, and down went Stalactite, the Brit's icy arrows less than useless against the Titan of Thunder - the Generator. Another blast, and Huxtable Duxtable was nearly killed, his formidable powers over concrete doing about as much to defend him as his inexplicably stupid name. "You want me to be cruel? Huh? I give you as many comforts as I can get away with. I let you socialise, let you exercise, give you books - do you know how many people want me to just lock you all in stasis pods? And this is how you show your gratitude?!"

"Ooooh man, he's pissed!" Mindblow giggled nervously. Broken out of his cell by Catastrophe, and freed from his collar by Hammerblow, he - and his fellow alumni of the Catastrophe Gang - had spent the last few minutes cowering in his cell.
"Liam, couldn't you knock him out?" Jason said, feeling a little undeserving of his nom-de-crime as he hid from the mighty warden.
"No way, dude," Mindblow replied. "He knows me, and how my powers work, y'dig? He'd roast me without even looking."
"Shit...alright, bro, if you're sure." Jason tapped his foot angrily. He hated knowing how many supers there were who outclassed him so thoroughly.
"Can I beat him?" Hammerblow asked. The question seemed genuine.
"Uh, no, man," Jason replied. "You're tough as nails, but he's on a different level."
"Oh. Okay," he replied simply. "Hey, you." He was talking to Miles, Caduceus' brother.
"Yes?" Miles got on with Mindblow well enough, but he wasn't altogether pleased to be sharing his cell with Liam's old buddies. Thinner and weedier than his heroic brother, he felt rather nervous in their presence.
"Could you stop the Generator?" Miles burst out laughing.
"Dear god, man, are you insane or just as stupid as you -"

Jason was looking at him. Right at him.
"Don't call him stupid. He's not stupid. He just takes a while to collect his thoughts, got it?" Jason said.
"Sure, whatever you say," Miles mumbled back, folding his arms across his chest.
"Hey, man, what is your power, anyway?" Mindblow asked.
"Nothing I'm using any time soon," Miles replied. "Hence the gloves." They weren't just strapped over his hands, the thick, leather gloves, but actually screwed into place.

A few moments passed in silence. Jason's foot tapping grew ever more rapid.
"Right, screw this," he said. "I'm the Catastrophe, damn it! I should be in the centre of this!" Without listening to anyone else, he leapt out of his cell, and charged outside. His spiky hair shot up even higher from all the static in the air, but he didn't stop. He saw the rioters, many badly burned, or convulsing, most just cowering, but he didn't stop. He saw the dozens who had run screaming, often literally, back to their cells, but he didn't stop. He strode out right into the centre of the madness.
"Hayward!"

The warden turned. Catastrophe audibly gulped.
"Johannsson? I thought you'd been smart enough to keep out of this." He sighed, and gathered his power to himself. Jason flinched.
"Yeah, well catastrophes aren't known for...for being...uh...smart," Jason replied, the quip dying on his lips.
"Clearly."
"Sh-shut up! I know how strong you are, but when people remember today, they'll remember that I'm the only one who got a good hit on you!" Saying this, he gave a great shout, and let loose with a blast of light energy from his chest. He may not have had Spectra's finesse, but in terms of raw firepower, he was a little more than her equal, soul-light excluded. When his power collided with the electrical barrier Hayward had raised, there was a deafening boom.

Taking cover in Stalactite's cell, Greyhand swore over and over again.
"She tricked me...that bitch tricked me!" he half-growled, half-whined. He felt like a fool. He was just a distraction: Sinistrus had used him up and spat him out. He imagined her laughing at him, laughing along with the other women. With Chupacabra, and with Catherine. He'd get them. He'd get them all!

Or rather, as the more sensible part of his mind admitted, he wouldn't, because Hayward would obliterate him. At least, he thought, he might enjoy watching Catastrophe getting the shit kicked out of him. The bars of Stalactite's cell were shaking, rattling as the force of Catastrophe's energy beam shook the entirety of Q-Section as it aimed to tear through Hayward's defences. But they wouldn't budge. In fact, they expanded, as Hayward strode towards him. It was not the rush of a man in the heat of battle, nor was it the slow pace of an terrifying, unshakeable juggernaut. It was very normal walking speed, like he was going down the street for his groceries.
"No. No, no, Johannsson, I'm not going to play it how you want. You're not getting a good story; you're not getting your name in any annals of super-villainy or whatever. You're just going to be one of the many, many people I've had to beat down today. No drama, no glory." He walked through the onrush of power, parting Catastrophe's beam like he was parting the Red Sea.

"Grrhhhhhhh-AAAARRGGHHHH!!" Jason cried, trying and trying and trying to summon something more, to push himself further than he ever had, but it was useless. He didn't have anything that could remotely match Hayward. Even with Enhanceman boosting him, he'd not been a match for Nova, and - mighty as the starlit maiden was - Hayward was far stronger than her. He was kin in power to Lord Delirious, to Imperion and Lady Corvus. At the same time that he faced Catastrophe, bolts of lightning shot off his body, shocking people trying to take advantage of his distraction. Jason sank to his knees, still attacking, but now groaning with desperation and helpless rage. "Why? I'm powerful...why do I lose every single fucking time?! Ghkkh!" Hayward had grabbed him by the throat, and lightning coursed through his body. Jason shook, unable to move voluntarily.
"Forget this. Forget the villain thing, boy, it's not working for you. Finish your GED. Serve your time. There will be something on the other side for you after this if you play it right." That was the last thing Catastrophe heard before he was tossed to the side, and he passed out.

"That's what you get!" Raymond laughed, seeing Jason thrown aside. His laugh, however, was not a long-lived one. He had drawn the Generator's attention, and his ire to boot.
"You son of a bitch," Hayward growled. "You're the one who started all this!" He turned on Greyhand, as cascade of sparks erupting from his body. "Do you know how much damage you've done?! To me, to this place? To the people who work for me? If any of them die, I swear you'll suffer an even worse fate!"
"G-get away from me!" Greyhand practically shrieked.
"No, son," Hayward said. Jason had exhausted the last of his dwindling supply of patience. "I don't think I will." He unleashed his power, no longer all too concerned with restraint.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Ow!" Sinistrus felt a stabbing pain through her entire body, so much so that she almost dropped the waifish blonde she was carrying.
"Mmh!" Felicity squeaked, as her carrier wavered. She drew her body in against her captor, almost as if she weren't furiously embarrassed to be trussed up and lugged around as she was.
"Randolph's signal? ...something has happened," Sinistrus muttered to herself. Felicity narrowed her eyes - she looked through the pirson, again found her husband with two guards. Was one of them 'Randolph'? They were just standing around, apparently at an impasse.
"They're having problems...but is that good or bad for me?"

Chupacabra, standing nearby, was still a little buzzed from draining the force field barrier. Not required by her new ally, she had been looking for Catherine.
"We're about to escape!" she'd thought. "Why isn't she, y'know, celebrating with the rest of us?" Then, as if a light had been turned on in her head, she felt her presence. Not Catherine's - Sinistrus'. She turned to look at her, and she could see nothing else, not even Felicity wriggling in her arms. "Oh, wow...she's so...pretty..." Leanne thought, gazing deep into her cloudy, grey eyes.
"Leanne, I believe our talents are required," Sinistrus said, and her voice was like waves lapping against the cliffs of Leanne's soul.
"Uh, sure...wh-whatever you say..." Leanne replied.

Sinistrus laid Falcona down onto her feet, not gently, but far from roughly, either. She beckoned over two other prisoners, who responded instantly to her commands. They looked very similar: short, quite broad-shouldered for women, but quite handsome in their way. They were in fact fraternal twins.
"Jade, Emerald," Sinistrus said. "Look after our hostage."
"Yes, Ma'am," Jade said with a wicked smile. She took Falcona by the shoulders, and pulled the slender blonde against her body.
"Mmmmhhphh!" Falcona protested, but Jade wrapped both her arms around the heroine's body, one around her midsection, and the other around her neck. "Mmh!" Falcona's protests grew a little more subdued. Jade wasn't choking her, but she could do so just by flexing her biceps.
"Jade," Emerald said, in a voice so soft it was difficult to make out completely. "Don't be mean..."
"I ain't bein' mean," Jade replied. "I just think a lady like this deserves a nice big hug, is all." Emerald seemed to recoil from her sister's words. She looked mournfully at Sinistrus.
"Will...we have to wait long?"
"No, my darling," Sinistrus said. "Our master will be free very soon."

With Leanne in tow, Sinistrus slipped away, leaving Jade apparently in charge. Sophie was still watching, and when she saw that Falcona had been given to Jade and Emerald the gears began turning.
"Oh, shit!" She had never personally encountered the sisters before, but she had heard of them. Swatted aside by Spectra, they'd been arrested after the battle of the Shitty Needle, and were known loyalists of the Supremacist. Sophie didn't have every piece of the puzzle, but some intimation thereto was beginning to form in her mind. "They've got him stashed away here somewhere...is he the one that white-haired weirdo's trying to save?"

Before the matter could be considered further, Catherine grabbed Sophie by the shoulders, and shoved her roughly onto the ground.
"Mmmph!" Sophie cried out, landing hard on her back. She looked up at Catherine, enraged and astonished. "What the fuck is she doing?!" Sophie thought. But Catherine was not looking at her with lust. Rather, she looked frightened.
"Act natural!" she said in a hissed whimper. Then aloud: "Yeah, how'd you like that, little redhead? Naughty little cutie thought she could wriggle away, huh? Well no-one gets away from me, you hear?"
"The girl giving you trouble?" Another woman walked in, older, nearing fifty.
"Trouble? From a leggy lass like this? Not a chance!" Catherine said, laughing heartily.
"Hmph," the woman said. Then, apparently as if it were nothing at all, she pushed Catherine to the side, grabbed Sophie's waist, and slung the astonished redhead under her arm.

"MMMMPPHH!!" Sophie squealed, suspended in the air, her bound legs kicking wildly. It was degrading being carried like that, so casually, like her captor didn't care one whit about her. "Bundled me up like a god damned carpet..." Sophie had to admit, though, if she was going to be carried around helplessly by someone who'd captured her, she probably preferred not to have them pawing at her body.
"Miriam, what are you doing?" Catherine's voice had more than a little urgency in it.
"Jade wants her." She looked back into Catherine's eyes, and the mostly-purple headed convict shrank back. "I know you're not exactly with us, Catherine, but we have no problem with you. Yet." Catherine opened her mouth to reply, but didn't end up saying anything.

The catcalls and whoops started the second Sophie came into view.
"Hey, sexy, why don't you climb into my bunk?"
"Do you dye your hair, sugar, or is it red all over? Hahaha!"
"Mmmhhph..." Sophie whimpered. Powers or no powers, superhero or not, she was a beautiful young woman surrounded by criminals of loose morals at best. When Commander Caitiff was, by compare, a paragon of morality, one could be sure that things were bad. The helpless damsel was lugged over to where Jade was standing. Seeing Sophie, she handed Falcona off to her sister, and leaned down to inspect the woman Miriam was carrying.

"Mph!" Sophie felt her chin grabbed, pulled up to look Jade in the eye. Jade's eyes were greener even than Sophie's, not just shining but glowing.
"Well look at you..." Jade said. "Give her here," she said to Miriam. The older woman just dropped her, and Sophie would have smacked painfully into the floor, but for the fact that Miriam had caught her by the shoulders, and pulled her up to her feet in one smooth movement.
"Mmmggmmphh!" Sophie protested, the lithe damsel aghast at how many women had taken control of her body that day. She wiggled her soft, exposed shoulders, twisted her slinky hips, but couldn't get out of Jade's grip, much less out of her bonds.

"Sinistrus told me who this is!" Jade shouted, loud enough for the whole prison to hear. "This chick's no more or less than Seacouver's own Enhancegirl."
"Mmmmphhh!" Sophie gasped. "Oh shit. Oh shit, shit, shit..." It was not that her identity was necessarily blown - none of these women knew she was Sophie Scott, after all. However, in the first instance it did put her identity at quite some risk - and Enhancegirl herself had put away quite a few of these criminals. She would not be popular.
"That's right! Not only has this cute little nuisance been a thorn in the side of, well, quite a few of you, but she's the one who crippled the Supremacist!" The whoops turned into boos and jeers.

"Fuck you, EG!"
"Go die in a fire, you little tramp!" Sophie felt herself panting, felt herself sweating. Falcona aside, prison riot aside, she didn't just feel like a captive anymore. She was in serious peril.
"Now keep it calm," Jade said. "I've been told to keep her alive. I imagine that our master will want to get his mitts on you himself."
"They are trying to free the Supremacist," Sophie realised. For a moment, she felt a little smug. "Heh, good thing I fucked him up so hard that he can't use his -"

It was at that moment that Sophie happened to look at Felicity, saw her looking back with sympathetic eyes at her fellow heroine, saw the distress in her expression. There was a point. Why had they taken Falcona? She'd been a useful hostage, but it didn't seem like this section was of vital importance to Sinistrus' plans. If anything it would just anger Caduceus and -
"Oh...oh, that's not good..." Sophie finally understood. Falcona wasn't there just to scare off the guards. She was there as leverage. She imagined the lengths she would go to to save Mariko's life if she were threatened, and realised that - if she had the power - she'd heal the Supremacist. And unlike her, Caduceus did have that power. "Well. We're fucked."

Fucked or otherwise, Sophie was still in Jade's arms.
"Now, I don't disobey orders," the villainess said. "I'm not going to hurt you, Enhancegirl...as much as I'd like to. But there's nothing stopping us from enjoying ourselves." As she'd been talking, the women loyal to her and, presumably, to the Supremacist, had gathered round her in a circle. "Get her up," Jade ordered, indicating Falcona.
"Mrrghmph!" the blonde complained, as she was hauled up by one of her forearms. "Get your filthy paws off me!" She squirmed, but was just as helpless as Sophie.

"A couple of trussed up superheroines and a whole mess of big bad villains," Jade whispered in Sophie's ear. "That could be a pretty explosive combination." She shoved Sophie to the side. With her long legs bound, and her feet clad in high heels, she hadn't the remotest hope of keeping her balance, and she tumbled into another prisoner's arms.
"Love the heels, babe," Sophie's newest captor said. "They work way better than ankle boots." She rubbed Sophie's exposed thighs, feeling the maiden's moist skin with pleasure.
"Mmmhh!" Sophie barely had time to summon her umbrage before she was shoved again, this time into the grip of someone even taller than Mariko.
"How does it feel, hero?" she said, running her hands down the contours of Sophie's body. "How do you like being someone's helpless prisoner?"
"Hey, pass her here! I want to check if that butt of hers is as great as people say!"

Sophie was thrown to and fro, back and forth like a leaf in the breeze, touched, felt up, squeezed, and relentlessly, mockingly laughed at the entire time. Her legs stroked, her breasts massaged, her heart-shaped behind smacked and spanked. She moaned and growled through her gag, tossing her long, red hair back and forth and she shook her head in powerless defiance. Her clothing, already dislodged to quite some extent, was pulled down or torn, exposing her chest, her stomach, the entirety of her long legs.
"Mmmhh! MMMHHHHHH!!" she moaned in aghast frustration and shame, as her captors toyed with her. There was a part of her, she had to confess, that wanted Mariko to burst in, vanquish her enemies, and softly carry her away to safety. There was another part, however, that wanted to visit violent retribution on the women doing this to her. Almost without thinking, she realised she was making mental notes of who was doing what.

"Elena! Oh, you rotten thugs!" Felicity, for her part, was ashamed that she was powerless to help her fellow heroine. She barely knew this girl, but she liked her. Even if Sophie's usual winning charm had been at less than full capacity when the two had talked, Felicity was very much the sort of person who looked for reasons to feel affection for someone. For this reason, she felt more than a little sympathy. Aside from her present state, Felicity called to mind the first time she'd met Caduceus, when she'd been barely twenty, a captive of the No Law Gang. They'd treated her just as roughly as Jade's women were treating Sophie, and she could imagine quite well how humiliated the redhead was. Not that she needed to do much imagining. The woman holding her had her hand tightly wrapped around her mouth, and had another hand gripping her slim hips. Both she and Sophie were just as dominated as each other.

"Alright, that's enough, I think," Jade said. She knew how to keep her underlings happy, but she didn't want them getting too carried away. She motioned for Sophie to be given to her, and stepped forward to grab her.
"Mmmhhh...mmmhhh..." Sophie panted, exhausted, throbbing with embarrassment, feeling the shameful tingles all over her body from where she'd been fondled. "Mmmmmmmmhhhhhhhhh!" A long, low moan came from her as she was tossed over Jade's shoulder. She gripped Sophie's legs as she took her into her power, not lustfully, but not much caring for her captive's dignity either. "Sis, bring the other one."
"O-okay..." Emerald muttered, taking Felicity by the shoulders. "Um...uh..." She knew she had to carry her, but seemed nervous to touch the blonde's bare legs. She winced, but nevertheless slipped her hands under Felicity's back and her thighs, then started carrying her off. "Um...I'm sorry..." she mumbled. "I know...it's bad for me to...do stuff like this..."
"What's with her?" Felicity wondered. Indeed, while Jade was known to be the louder and more assertive of the twins, Emerald was famous for having a sly, sadistic cruelty. "Perhaps time inside has mellowed her out a little..."

The two were carried to a far corner of the section, to an odd looking steel box of some sort. Some panelling in a console on the side seemed tampered with, bits ripped off, wires fed into sockets in which they clearly didn't belong.
"You seen this before, girls?" Jade asked. "Wouldn't be surprised if you hadn't. It's fallen out of use ever since the collar system was introduced, but they used to use it when us girls got real outta hand." The box was opened by one of her women, the console sputtering with sparks as she operated it. Sophie was swung down onto her feet, and pushed inside.
"Mmph! Mmhhhh!" Sophie mewed, her cheeks flushed as red as her hair, her bosom heaving against her bra, her eyes wet with frustration and helpless anger. "Those...assholes! I - god fucking damn it!" She tried to keep her anger going, not to let it fall into despair again, but it was quite a battle.
"Rgh! Mmmrrrrmmphh!" Felicity moaned, kicking her legs as Emerald awkwardly placed her next to Sophie. She turned her powerful vision onto the steel box, and with a whimper realised what it was about to do. "Oh, good grief, is this really necessary?"

"I want you to know," Jade said, "just how fucking inconsequential you are." She turned the two heroines to face each other, and signalled to Emerald. Her sister pressed a button on the console, and the heroines felt a sort of shackle locking their ankles into place, holding them in position. "I'm talking to Enhancegirl by the way. I always thought you were preppy, Falcona, but you seemed to know the place. But you, Enhancegirl? You seriously have the balls to hurt the Supremacist, to swing with the likes of Valora? Sister, who the fuck are you?" Sophie found to her shame that she looked down, shamed by Jade's jab. Falcona, had she been able to speak, would have told Sophie off for letting Jade get to her, but after the ordeal she'd been subjected to, she could hardly blame the redhead.
"Do it."

As soon as Jade gave her order, the boxed slammed shut, plunging the heroines into darkness. But then they felt machinery whirring, and indeed felt themselves began to revolve, their ankles apparently shackled to a turntable of some kind.
"Whhmph?" Sophie felt something touch her legs. Something rubbery, but Sophie couldn't see what.
"Hmm!" Falcona felt the same, only she felt it on her back. "Oh, hell..." The whirring increased in volume, until it reached a crescendo of painful loudness.
"MMPHH!!" Sophie cried out, as several prongs shot out at them, ending with objects like paint rollers. But they didn't have paint at the end of them - they had rolls of thick, strong, rubbery straps. As the maidens were spun, those straps affixed themselves to their bodies.
"Nmmmph!" Felicity protested, as she felt the contraption begin wrapping them up. Round, and round they spun, every circuit binding them tighter and tighter, and not just binding them, but squeezing them against each other.

"Mmmmhhh! MMMMMPHHH!!" Sophie screamed in dismay as she felt her long, sleek legs completely covered with band after band of rubbery straps, her moist skin disappearing from view. So too did Falcona, and both damsels felt their legs come into a great deal of contact, their bare thighs, their hips crushed against the other's. The slender damsels squirmed, but were more than powerless in their resistance. Their bodies were drawn into an ever more secure, captive embrace, as their taut stomachs, their breasts were drawn against each other as well. Neither of them were what one would call overly well-endowed, but both women's bosoms were yielding, soft, and would under any other circumstance have felt delightful against each other, at least for Sophie. But what pleasure there might have been in this was choked by the direness of the situation, and the knowledge of their own powerlessness.

"MMPHH!!" the maidens both moaned at the same time, as the bands covered their necks and jawlines, pushing their gagged mouths together. "Mmmh! Nnnnn-NNNMMPHH!" Sophie cried out, as the two beautiful young women were forced into a mockery of a kiss. So tightly were their lips pressed together that they could feel the outline of each other's mouths, could feel the vibrations when they let out a gagged whimper. Now they were bound not only by the straps, and the medical tape beneath it, but by their own embarrassment. Every writhe, every struggle was now a caress, the nubile damsels tight, and lithe and hot - panting against each other, naked thighs rubbing together. To her mortification, and quite against her will, Sophie found her buds tenting as the lovely blonde wriggled against her.
"Oh god...oh god, you've gotta be fucking kidding me!" She couldn't help it. Falcona was a truly lovely woman, and Sophie couldn't blind herself to the sensual aspects of captivity. But it wasn't sexy, exactly - it was just another dimension of her helplessness.

The box opened after the damsels' bondage was complete, and the two heroines were revealed to the prisoners. The jeers resumed in earnest as they saw the pair bound together, mummified from their ankles right up to their mouths, squirming and blushing and moaning all the while.
"Mmmhhh!" Falcona cried out, seeing herself exhibited to her captors. "Simon...Simon, you bastard, why aren't you saving me from this?"
"Mhh...mmhhhphh..." Sophie mewed, feeling her pulse throbbing, and feeling Felicity's as well.
"There. Nice and secure," Jade said, smiling broadly. "Sis, help me out." Together, the two sisters took hold of the bound damsels, Jade grabbing their torsos, and Emerald their legs. "Aaaand down!" With one movement each, the sisters swung their captives down, the writhing damsels now parallel with the ground as they were hauled off.

"Damn it, why do I have to be like this?" Sophie thought. "So...sensitive..." She meant many things by this. Sensitive to her situation, sensitive to being embarrassed and sensitive to the touch of another woman. There was no betrayal there - had Falcona been actively trying to seduce her she'd not have been tempted away from Mariko. But in a way that was almost worse: her body didn't care where her loyalties lay.

"MMMMMHHHHPHH!" Sophie and Felicity grunted, as they were hurled down onto a bunk in Jade's cell.
"Now be good and stay there," Jade said. "You guard them, Emerald. I've got shit to do."
"B-but..." Emerald stammered. "O-okay..." She watched her sister walk away. Only Falcona saw the judgemental daggers in her eyes. However, she didn't think much of it. She and Sophie could do little more than lie there, staring into each other's eyes like lovers, their humiliation compounding upon itself again and again. They could smell the other, the smell of their sweat mixed with two kinds of perfume, but to each maiden it had the heady scent of only one thing: total and utter defeat.

Outside, Catherine watched the heroines' humiliation with a great deal more guilt than Sophie. Even now she felt the desire to have both gorgeous captives for herself, but she quashed it.
"Hey." Someone gave her shoulder a gentle nudge. It was Smokin', fellow prisoner and fellow outsider. "Crazy days, right?"
"For sure," Catherine replied, non-committally.
"What's that freaky lady doing with Chupa?"
"I don't know," Catherine said. "That damned girl's so easily swayed..."
"Well, there ain't much we can do about it, right? What?" Catherine was staring at her. "No really, what?"
"Georgie," Catherine said. "Just how much fire can you produce?"
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Pincushion, Red Alert!" The two treacherous guards turned to see Sinistrus approaching them, Leanne nervously in tow.
"What's going on?" Caduceus asked. "Who's that?" They didn't answer.
"Well," Sinistrus said, "you summoned me, Red Alert. What's the matter?"
"Something went wrong," Randolph replied. "The field didn't go -" Suddenly he felt himself gripped by a strange force. He could feel nothing, see nothing, think of nothing - except for Sinistrus. He stared at her, open mouthed.
"'Something went wrong' is infantile talk, Red Alert. You made a mistake. It happens, but it is important to own up to your mistakes, isn't it?"
"Er, right, yeah...I, um, made a mistake..."
"Better." The spell was broken. Randolph shuddered: he hated it when Sinistrus did that.

"Who's the girl?" Forrester asked. "She's not one of us."
"She is one of us," Sinistrus replied. "Do the Supremacist's ideals not teach us that all superhumans are part of the brotherhood?"
"Oh, you know what I mean," Forrester huffed. "Can she be trusted?" Sinistrus turned to Leanne, who was more than a bit cowed by these men.
"Can you be trusted, Chupacabra?" Sinistrus said, touching her lightly on the cheek.
"Um, y-yeah, of course."
"That's good enough for me," the white-haired villain replied.

She escorted Leanne to the source of the problem: the force field. "Can you drain this?"
"Uh, yeah," Leanne said. "It looks a lot weaker than the ones separating the different parts of this building. Should be easy."
"Wonderful," Sinistrus replied. "Get to it." Leanne did as she was told, placing her hands on the field, and, with a moment's concentration, beginning the process of draining it dry.
"Oooh...yeah, yeah, it's going down!" Leanne said, filled with bright energy. "Aah!" She was thrown back. For a moment she thought she'd failed, but it was quite the opposite: much like a fridge left open and trying to cool an entire room, the field had tried to compensate for Leanne's draining, but had overloaded, and blown a fuse. The field failed, and its occupant was revealed.

"Boss!" the two guards ran in ahead of the woman who'd opened the door, but stopped sharply when the man inside looked at them.
"What the hell?" A man was sitting on a plain, metal chair, playing a game of solitaire. He was relatively tall, relatively muscular, and he looked about forty, though he was in reality much older. His head was shaved, by choice, and his eyes were small, but sharp, and a lovely, deep shade of blue. However, there were odd burn patterns all over his body, and his posture was hunched. "Red Alert? Pincushion? What the Christ are you doin' here?" His accent was a mixture of all sorts of things, but an Australian twang still dominated.
"We're...w-we're here to break you out, boss," Forrester said. "We, uh, we even brought a guy who can heal you, and -"

"NO!" The Supremacist bellowed. "You idiots, why are you doing this?"
"B-boss?"
"We were wrong! Don't you get it? I've had so much time to think..." he said, covering his eyes with his hands. "Everything I've done, everything we've done...it's all been wrong. Superhumans aren't better than normal humans at all! God, when I think about all the people I've hurt...this is my penance, don't you understand?" He stood up, shakily. "I have to stay here for the rest of my life. And if you lot have any bloody loyalty left, you'll hand yourselves in, you got it?"

There was a long silence. The three men looked at each other for what seemed like forever. Then the Supremacist raised his arms, pointed at both his men.
"Gotcha!"
"Aaaaahhhh, boss!" Forrester laughed. "Shit, boss you can't do that!"
"You gullible lump, come 'ere!" He threw his arms around his men, slammed their heads together. Even powerless and injured, he was still a large, strong man. "I can't believe a pair of goonies like you would have the wit or the stones to pull something like this off!"
"The stones maybe," Randolph replied, "but not the wit. This wasn't our plan."
"Oh?"

It was then that Sinistrus entered.
"Oh, Lisandra," the Supremacist whispered. "Oh my lovely girl..." Shakily, he stepped towards her. "You did this?"
"Yes, my liege," she said.
"Hey now, don't get pretentious," Martin replied. "'Sir' will do just fine...my radiant little lass...my subtle Left Hand...you are a sight for sore eyes..." Saying that, he pulled her into an embrace, swung her down like he was tangoing with her, and kissed her, roughly, forcefully.
"Mh!" Lisandra gasped as Martin took his pleasure of her. "Mmmhh..." Swung back up, she blushed brightly, and turned away.
"Come on, Lisandra," Martin chuckled. "No need to go all shy and virginal on me. For one thing, I know you ain't the latter! Gyaaahahahaha!" The other men had a good laugh at this as well. It was only Chupacabra who saw that Lisandra didn't look embarrassed. She looked disgusted.

"Right, now where's this healer? I want my fucking power back so I can rip this place apart!" Forrester nodded, and grabbed Caduceus, shoving him inside. He glared fiercely at Martin, though the villain could see the fear in his eyes.
"Caduceus? I'm surprised. You come over to our side, Doc?"
"Never, you mad bastard!" Caduceus spat. "If I could kill you, I would!"
"Now now," Martin said. "Temper temper." He nodded to Randolph, who turned Caduceus around, and punched him in the stomach. The hero fell to his knees, wheezing.
"We have his wife held captive," Sinistrus said. "He'll co-operate."
"Brilliant."

Martin sat down again, trying not to make it obvious that simply getting up and talking was extremely tiring. "Put...him across from me." Randolph obeyed, hoisting the healer up, and shoving him back down. "So, Caduceus...how does this work?"
"Put...your hands on the table," Simon sputtered. Martin did so. Simon gingerly put his hands on top, and closed his eyes.
"Right, so this is either a séance, or you're coming onto me," the Supremacist said. His minions obediently laughed, but Caduceus ignored him. "What's - whoa there!" A light began flowing from Caduceus' hands into his, and the villain felt odd, a tingling all throughout his body. "Crikey, we're already seeing some results! Don't you need to diagnose me, or whatever?"
"No," Caduceus said through gritted teeth. "My powers do all the work. But...Jesus..." He got a fair instinct of what was wrong with people he used his powers on. "There's damage to...everything, on a cellular level. How the hell are you alive?"
"I'm the Supremacist," Martin said. "And once you're done, I - and everyone like us - will be supreme, as we should be. You too, doc. I'd say you've earned your place in the new world." Caduceus shuddered at the compliment.

"How long is this going to take?" Forrester asked. "Hayward's still a problem. If he gets here before you're healed, we're all screwed."
"There's a point," Martin said. "Oooh...bloody hell, this feels nice, lads!" It was like being tickled all over. "But yeah, how long are we talking?"
"The damage is...extensive..." Caduceus said. "It's going to take a while if you want me to heal you completely."
"I'll choose to believe you," Martin said. "But I want you to know something. If I find out you're stalling, then...well, a traitor is as bad as a normie in my book. I'd make your missus acutely aware of that, mate."
"Traitor?! You're blackmailing me into helping you, how can I - aarrghh!" Randolph grabbed him by the hair, and smacked his forehead into the table.
"No-one likes a pedant, mate," Martin said. "You just keep at it, and leave the thinking to us, eh?" He looked over at Sinistrus. "Is your opposite number in this section?"
"Yes, sir," she said, meekly.
"Good. Let him out." Sinistrus nodded.

Beckoning to Leanne, she found another cell, further into the section. She and Leanne opened the twin locks and then, once again, Leanne drained away the force-field that remained when the steel hatch was opened. Even inside, however, the occupant was not at as much liberty as Martin had been. He was shackled to a wall, thick, steel collars around his neck, wrists and ankles. He was also asleep.
"Who...who is that?" Leanne said. He was huge, almost as large as Hammerblow. He had long, shaggy blonde hair, a bristly beard, and thick, almost feminine lips. "Like some kind of...kitsch barbarian or something..."
"That is the Supremacist's right-hand," Sinistrus said. "The most powerful of all of his - that is, our - master's men. We call him Dextrus."
"Hm?" Sleepily, the prisoner opened his eyes. "Let me out..." he growled. "Let me out or I'll rip your kidneys out with my teeth!" Leanne screamed, and hid behind Sinistrus. The giant laughed. "Ahahahaha! Easy there, little girl. I'm...just playing with you...ehehehe..."
"Dextrus," Lilandra said, "we are here to free our master. We need you to buy time while his wounds are healed." He grinned.
"You're pretty. In my dreams you're even prettier, though."
"Will you do it?"
"Of course I will. Anything for the master..." Leanne was shivering. She wasn't the only one.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Why had Raymond raised his hand? What possessed him to do it? By all accounts it was moronic. Based on some half-remembered science lesson about metal being conductive because of 'free electrons'. Electrons - electricity: it was hardly the most scientific of deduction. It was stupid to think his power would have anything to do with electricity. He erased metal and shot it back out: that was his thing. He was being a fool. He was being a moron.

Or that's what people would have said, if it hadn't worked.

"Gyyyyyhhhhahaaa!" Greyhand screeched, as Hayward's attack threatened to engulf him in a storm of lightning - and instead got sucked straight into his hand.
"What the...what the hell?" Hayward gasped. His attack - his attack! - had done nothing. All that was left were a few sparks in Greyhand's palm. Greyhand had much the same reaction.
"What the...how did I...how did I do that?" Hayward didn't care how. He just cared about putting Greyhand down. He fired again, really enough to kill Raymond this time. But the convict just raised his hand, and the electricity was sucked in. "Well...well now!"
"That's impossible! No-one can...no-one can stand up to these attacks!" Raymond's expression of astonishment was changing slowly into a wry grin.
"It looks like you're wrong about that, Mister Warden," Raymond said. "Looks like Greyhand's not such a small fry after all."
"You damned well are!"

Hayward was taking no chances now. He gathered so much power that he began to levitate, raising himself up so the whole section could see him. "You think you can stand up to me? You little prick, I've fought with the Supremacist! I've even fought with the Titan! You? You're not worth this effort!" He send a screaming, blistering volley of electrical energy, so powerful that run-offs were electrifying several prisoners that Hayward had no intention of targeting. It should have atomised Greyhand.

But it didn't. He just threw up his hand, and in it went. Not just in the electricity aimed at him - it was even drawing in, sucking in the ambient electricity.
"Ahaahaha! Ahahaha, did I ever get myself wrong! You're boned, man! You're good and boned!" He walked forward, and as he did, more and more of Hayward's power was sucked into his hand. Eventually, Hayward could no longer sustain his aura, and he tumbled to the ground. Now close to Raymond, he actually ran forward, and tried to shoot at his legs, but the electricity changed course mid-air to be drawn in.
"This isn't possible...how are you containing all that power?" He'd fought enemies with powers to drain energy before, and he'd always dealt with them the same way - by overloading them. Indeed, if it had been Chupacabra he'd been fighting, that last attack would have damn near made her explode.
"No idea...but doesn't it scare you? Aren't you frightened? I'm an evil man, isn't that right? What kinds of horrible, nasty things am I gonna do to you, Phil?" He laughed, and laughed, his ugly, manic face glowing with demonic malice in the electric blue light of the power he was stealing for himself.

Hayward stared up at him, open mouthed. "Oh there it is, there's the look, there's the look! Ahahaha, I bet even Aerogirl would look less pathetic than you do right now!"
"You know what, Parr, you might have discovered a new trick..." Hayward growled, "but you're still less than nobody!" He leapt forward. If he couldn't shock Greyhand, he could still knock his block off.
"Oh shit!" Raymond stumbled backwards, and extended his hand. Instinctively, he tried to send the electricity back out as an attack, but that wasn't what happened. The power did come out - but not as electricity. It came out as tiny, uneven chunks of metal - chunks which tore through Hayward's body like he was made of wet tissue paper.
"Im...impossible..." he groaned, staring down at the holes in his body, before falling flat on his back. There was a deafening silence from the entire prison.
"Jesus Christ!" Mindblow shrieked, watching from above. "G-Greyhand just beat the Generator one on one!"

This cry was what awoke Jason Johannsson, the Catastrophe. He opened his eyes to see Greyhand, that violent, cruel, despicable thug, standing victorious over the fallen, bullet-riddled - or so it looked to Jason - body of Philip Hayward.
"No...no way..." he stammered. "Not you...anyone but you!"
"How'd you like that, Catastrophe?" Greyhand laughed. "How do you like that, little man? How do all of you like that? Huh? HUH?!" He turned around, and spread his arms wide, so everyone could see him. "I'm the big buck of this lick, d'you hear? I am! Me!" He laughed uproariously. "I beat the Generator! I did! Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeyyyyyyyyhaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnd-ah!"

"Is this bad?" Hammerblow asked, watching from above.
"Yeah, man," Mindblow replied, his voice trembling slightly. "Yeah, it's bad."
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Unaware of the great upset which had just taken place, Felicity and Sophie still wriggled against each other, small whimpers still occasionally emanating from their sealed mouths. Sophie's frustration and embarrassment were beginning to give way to a resignation. The Supremacist, Sinistrus - this was above her, much in the same way that Cybelle would be above an ordinary human.
"Maybe this time I really am just gonna be a damsel in distress..." Sophie thought. "Just gotta wait for someone to come rescue me..." She'd wanted it to be different this time, she really had. But though nothing that had happened to her that day could match Hades for raw terror, she was just as helpless, really. She might as well have been a civilian.

Falcona's mind was less on her own peril, and more on her husband's. She knew what he was doing, and why, and she didn't blame him for it, not really. But why couldn't he be more ruthless sometimes? If it meant not helping the Supremacist, Felicity was not ashamed to admit that she might not only have preferred her own death, but even Simon's. But she blinded her husband, she knew that.
"Too damned chivalrous," she thought. "Oooh, he'd better ride in on a white horse to save me, then!"

"Hey Emerald," came a voice from outside. Felicity didn't recognise it, but Sophie did.
"Caitiff? What's she doing here?"
"G-go away," the heroines' guard said. "My sister wouldn't want anyone else being here!" Caitiff was not alone. Smokin' was with her, arms folded. She kept kissing her teeth, as if impatient.
"Hey, she's the one who sent us," Caitiff replied. "She's relieving you of -"
"My sister wouldn't send you! W-why are you lying?"
"Oh, geez, alright then..." She raised her hand, gel already emerging from her palm.
"Wh-what? Um, Armour - MMMPHH!" A wad of goo shout out, slapping over her mouth, covering it completely. "Hmm-mmmphhhh!"
"Heard it all before, sweetness," Catherine said, before thrusting her knee hard into the woman's stomach.
"MMMMMPHHHHHH!" she cried out. "Mmm...mmhhhmmphhh..." She dropped like a stone.

"Hey!" The two had been spotted. "What are you doing?"
"Alright, Smokin'," Caitiff said, as Jade's women rushed towards them. "Light 'em up."
"You got it," the short woman said, smirking. "Alright..." She took a long breath in - and breathed out a dragon's fire.
"Jesus Christ!" one of the prisoners shouted, as a great wall of flame rose from the ground onto which Smokin' breathed, cutting them off. Caitiff didn't hesitate, and ran into the cell.

"Okay, girls, you just stay still. Ol' Gel-Belle's gonna have you out of this lickety split, got it?"
"Whhmhh?" Sophie mewed. Felicity was merely surprised, but Sophie was shocked. "She's...she's putting herself on the line for us like this?" An urgent reassessment of Catherine's character was required.
"Hurry this up!" Smokin' shouted from outside. "I don't got all day!" Indeed, Catherine worked as quickly as she could. She rolled the heroines over as she unwound the straps, the damsels not wholly grateful for being subjected to this sensation. But the straps were coming loose. Already the heroines could feel their chests pressed less tightly.
"Come on, come on!" Sophie thought, aware of just how quickly they might lose their chance. Her bonds were getting looser and looser, but Catherine wasn't doing it fast enough.

"Armour Up!" Jade shouted as she saw her underlings cowering from the flames. At these words, her body was covered by - or rather, turned into - green stone, like the gem of her name. "Get back you cowards!" she shouted, and indeed they parted. She growled, striding through the wall of flame. "You! Who the hell are you?"
"Your worst fucking nightmare, Lady Diamanté!" Smokin' shot back. This time, she just breathed fire right at the jade warrior, a continuous terrifyingly hot stream of flame.
"Urgh!" the villain cried out, but she didn't falter. She walked through the inferno, shielding her eyes with one arm. Smokin' couldn't see her, and was convinced she was winning. When she stopped to draw breath, she was pretty surprised to find Jade standing right in front of her.
"Oh sh -" She was backhanded across the face, and sent flying.
"Lightweight," Jade growled. She stepped inside. "Gel-Belle, you dumb fuck. We didn't have a problem with you before. Well we sure do now!" Catherine stepped aside.
"Well," she said, putting her hands up. "Good thing I have some new friends to take care of me then."
"Huh?"

Even before switching on her powers, the now unbound redhead was already leaping towards Jade.
"Enhance!" she cried out in mid-air, the flash as she assumed her gold, strapless minidress, red mask - and of course her incredible senses - temporarily blinding Jade. Not one to spurn an advantage, Enhancegirl grabbed Jade by the head, and smashed her forehead into the metal bars of the cell.
"Unnh!" Jade cried out, but Sophie did it again, and again, and again, until she was sure the villain was out. Jade slumped to the ground.
"That's the problem with gemstones, dickweasel," Enhancegirl spat, flexing her arms, hopping from one foot to another. "They're hard, but they're brittle too. So next time, just back off before I have to kick your ass!" Felicity was pulling off the last remnants of the tape binding her, gasping with relief when she ungagged herself. She looked at Sophie, and was almost intimidated. Her teeth were bared in a wolfish snarl, her fists clenched. She was slender and balletic in frame and limb, but Falcona could see her coiled, catlike strength.
"She's not as delicate as she looks!" Felicity thought, more than a little impressed.
"Right," Enhancegirl said, turning on the rest of the prison. "Back in the mother-fucking game!"
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DrDominator9
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Alright! Enhancegirl is finally out of her bondage. Let's hope it stays that way for a while. She's past due for kicking some serious butt. Great work, especially with Grey and and the warden.
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

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Damselbinder

DrDominator9 wrote:
6 years ago
Alright! Enhancegirl is finally out of her bondage. Let's hope it stays that way for a while. She's past due for kicking some serious butt. Great work, especially with Grey and and the warden.
Thanks, dude. Very pleased that you're still enjoying!
Damselbinder

A couple of the women from Sinistrus' entourage - latterly under the command of Jade - had fought Enhancegirl before. It was during her early days, between her initial encounter with Madam Black and the first time she met Spectra. She'd managed to defeat them, yes, but it had been a close run thing to say the least. Honestly? Enhancegirl had been lucky to escape with her life. One of the two - Armos - had enhanced strength, the other - Beamos - could fire energy beams from her hands, and both were skilled at using their powers. As Smokin's flames died, and the two saw Enhancegirl running full pelt towards her, they were therefore quietly confident that she would fall to them.

That confidence was shattered when the one with enhanced strength took a fragment of green crystal to the shoulder
"Aaaaaugghh!" she screeched, blood spurting out of the wound. She gaped at the wound, and so did her partner.
"What is that?" the other said. In fact, it was a snapped-off piece of Jade's armour, but neither had much time to work that out. Enhancegirl leapt towards them, driving the heel of her silver boot into the taller woman's face.
"GYHHAAKKHHH!!" she cried out, dazed not quite into unconsciousness, but into a defeated stupor. She might have been stronger than the average, but she was no more resilient. Sophie landed on her back, but was in that position for less than a second. She leapt onto her hands, threw herself forward, and locked her legs around the other woman's neck. The convict tried to reach up to blast her, but Sophie grabbed her wrists, forced her palms to face away from her. Beams fired off, but none hit Enhancegirl.

"If I remember right," the heroine said, "you got a good feel of my legs back when you guys were having fun with me. Well - are you still enjoying them?" She squeezed tighter, and Beamos saw dots in front of her face. "I'm only just getting started!" Beamos weakened, began to sway. Sophie unhooked her legs from her enemy, flipped off her with all the grace of a dancer, and then roundhouse kicked her squarely in the face. "Who's next?!"

Two convicts on the upper levels dropped down behind her, ready to ambush the ravishing redhead. But the instant - the very instant - that they landed, both felt something jabbing into their spines. They seized up, unable to move, unable to talk.
"I knew a martial artist once." The speaker was behind him, talking with an elegant, lilting voice that was sweeter than honey. "He told me that it had taken him quite a while to learn how to exploit pressure points in combat. He was so very irritated that my powers let me do it more or less without even trying." Three strikes in rapid succession to different spots on their spines, and the convicts screamed, gasped, and finally sighed, collapsing onto the ground. Falcona flexed her fingers, and clicked the bones in her neck. "Oh, it feels good to be untied!"

"She's not like Enhancegirl," Miriam thought to herself, as she approached the blonde from behind. "She only has super vision. If she's not looking at me, I can sneak up on her." Miriam was an old soldier, so to speak. She'd fought with the Supremacist for years, and knew her place in the rankings, so to speak. Strong, but not that strong, she knew that she would never be a match for someone like Spectra, or Hytherion, but she'd had her victories. This woman she could beat, she assured herself. Continuing to move with surprising stealth, she made sure that she was out of Felicity's field of vision at all times. Then, when she assured herself she was close enough, she leapt forward, her strength propelling her with great speed, closing a five metre gap in less than a second. She didn't see Felicity's charming, sly little smile.

A nail on the other side of K-Section, a little piece of one of the convicts' collars was facing a fragment of broken glass from a security camera. This fragment was, in turn, facing a steel nail knocked loose from some of the wall panelling, which was facing a droplet of sweat that Enhancegirl had left as she hurtled wildly into battle. It was via each of these objects in turn that Falcona saw the woman approaching her, when Enhancegirl herself would not have seen.
"Whoa!" Miriam found herself side-stepped at the last possible moment. She was skilled enough not to fall, but her momentum carried her forward for twice the height of her body. Steadying herself, she turned, raising her arms to block a strike she was sure would come. Her prescience didn't help her, though. A strike in the throat - only two of Falcona's fingers actually touched her - and Miriam's throat seized up. She fell back, gasping. She stared in astonishment at the waifish, lovely young blonde in a short dress - missing one shoe, even - who had effortlessly defeated her. Falcona blew her a kiss, and Miriam went down, hard.

Falcona was very much aware that, of the many enemies they faced, she had only taken down three. As satisfying as it was to be loose, she was still in great peril. She and Enhancegirl would have to work together if -
"Aaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!" The cry had not come from Enhancegirl, at least, not exactly, but from a woman she'd just punted into the bars of a cell. A bony spike was hurled at her by another prisoner but she caught it in mid-air.
"Gifts?" Enhancegirl said, twirling the spike between her fingers. "You guys are so generous!" Emphasising her pleasure at her 'gift', Enhancegirl ducked under a stream of green flame, and nearly broke one of the kneecaps of the woman shooting it at her. She screamed in pain, so Sophie knocked her out with a spinning kick. Falcona saw six women already unconscious or groaning in pain on the ground.
"Good lord," she muttered. With a great deal of admiration, and just a tiny amount of jealousy, Falcona realised just how far Sophie outclassed her.

Three more convicts surrounded the redhead, certain others now a little nervous of the gold-clad redhead.
"One with the big-ass mole, she's moving her fingers - long range power? Electricity maybe? Weak hip joint - strike there; taller one's got a stiff arm, boxing stance, feint left, take her from the right; middle one...not sure: just be fast." This line of thought took about one sixth of a second for Sophie's enhanced neurons. Even without verbalisation she took in a thousand other things - smelt a greater tang of sweat from one enemy, indicating lower stamina, felt the tremor of feet shuffling around nervously, saw muscles tensing - and knew who would be the first to strike: herself.

As the woman with the mole gathered little shards of ice about herself, she opened her mouth to quip. Actually it would have been pretty funny - she was a noted wit. But Enhancegirl didn't care, and with devastating speed and accuracy, she hit the wit hard in the hip joint. She screamed with pain, but Enhancegirl didn't hesitate for an instant, and downed her with a solid punch to the jaw. The taller woman changed her stance, and Sophie responded instantly, hurling her newfound weapon and striking her enemy in the the skull. She reeled, but didn't even have time to fall back one step before Enhancegirl launched herself forward, snatched the bony club out of mid-air, and hurled it at the remaining convict.

Unfortunately for Sophie, the last woman - Waver - was faster on her feet than her allies, and she ducked underneath Sophie's projectile. She clapped her hands together, sending out a shockwave of force that would have hit Sophie so hard that she'd have died without urgent medical attention. But, then, it didn't hit her. She, unlike most of Waver's opponents, could see her shockwaves. Enhancegirl drew her limbs in towards her body, twisted herself in mid-air so that the shockwave went just underneath her. Before Waver could prepare another, Sophie collided at full speed with her enemy. Both were a little stunned as they hit the floor, but Sophie recovered first, and a whiplash kick knocked Waver senseless.

"Okay...are we starting to get the picture here?" Sophie said, as the remainder of Sinistrus' loyalists grew increasingly nervous.
"Are you kidding me?" one replied. "There's still just one of her! She ain't no Valora, let's just - BLLHHRRMMGHHLL!" A wadge of pink goo slapped across the speaker's face, covering her mouth, nose and eyes. Blinded and breathless, she collapsed.
"Oh, there's more than one." Catherine, the gel wielding woman who had freed Sophie and Felicity, stepped forward, at Enhancegirl's side. Using her powers, she contracted the gel slightly, freeing her victim's nose- but only just.
"I'd say," Falcona interjected, "that against three superheroes - well, two and a half," she added, winking at Catherine, "you lot would certainly be better off heading back to your cells, no?" One prisoner demurred, and leapt forward, transforming their hands into silvery blades. A glob of gel struck her in the face, a roundhouse kick nearly cracked her skull open, and a pinpoint strike to her stomach almost completely paralysed her diaphragm. She fell wheezing, spluttering and helpless onto the ground.
"You know what?" another prisoner said, looking at the battered, groaning bodies of her allies. "On second thoughts, I agree with you."

It didn't take long for Sinistrus' loyalists to be back in their cells. As order was restored, at least in this section, Sophie took a moment to breathe. She was shaking slightly, the adrenaline of combat still flooding her system. Felicity approached her, and Sophie was so jumpy that she almost attacked again.
"Fine moves there, Elena," Falcona said, clapping her on the shoulder.
"Likewise," Enhancegirl replied. Regrettably, the heroes had no time to chat. "I think I know what this is all about. They're trying to -"
" - heal the Supremacist. I know," Falcona replied. "That woman who captured us - Sinistrus - she works for the Supremacist. One of his two highest ranking warriors, actually."
"You guys have met?" Falcona nodded. "Is she, like, a telepath? She totally got the drop on me before." Falcona shrugged.
"I think technically, yes, she's a telepath, but she's no mind reader. She can do one of two things: make you ignore her presence, or make you focus entirely on her." Enhancegirl couldn't help being impressed. Most of the time, the enemies she faced had much more obviously potent powers than her: greater strength, energy attacks, durability, and so on. However, this Sinistrus person had an ability even less obviously battle-focused than Sophie's own, yet she had carved out a place for herself with a man for whom power was...well, everything.

Catherine overheard their conversation.
"Hey, did you say the Supremacist? Shit, no wonder it was all of the normie-haters that were rioting. What's the next move?" Enhancegirl turned towards the mostly-mauve haired woman, and stared at her for a moment. She then slapped her hard across the face. "Ow! Ahhh, what the hell, why did you do that?!"
"Elena, why did you -?" Sophie raised her hand.
"You know why, Caitiff," Enhancegirl said. "What you did to me and Spectra isn't something a person just forgets. But - now I can actually feel grateful for what you saving me here. So...thank you." It was an odd feeling, being punished and forgiven at the same time: but Catherine decided to accept it.
"I see these two have a little history..." Certainly, Felicity saw Caitiff's pupils dilate every time she looked at Sophie, but elected not to jump to any conclusions. "As to our next move - we stop the Supremacist." To Sophie she added, quietly: "Can she be trusted to help us?" Sophie shrugged.
"She put herself on the line for us. That's gotta count for something, right?" Felicity gave a small bow of assent.
"Can your friend help us, um...Caitiff?"
"I have a debt to pay," Caitiff replied. "She doesn't." Smokin' had been hurt enough already, Caitiff thought. She didn't need to risk anything else.

It was as Falcona was planning the best possible route to where her husband was that Enhancegirl first felt the tremors. Something was shaking, something directly above them. The redhead turned her eyes heavenward, and though her sight could not pierce the metal foundations of the Penitentiary Supreme as well as Falcona's, she could see people moving above them - the Pen-Supreme's guards, apparently in combat. They appeared to be fighting against a lone opponent - and they appeared to be losing.

"Aaaaahhhhhh!!" A hole had been torn in the ceiling above them - and what had been a ceiling to Sophie was a floor to the woman who fell through. "Unnnghhh!" Forty feet she plummeted, hitting the ground with a metallic clang. Indeed, her whole body was covered with metal - had it not been, she'd have surely died.
"Jesus!" Enhancegirl rushed over to the fallen guard. "Hey, lady, are you okay?"
"D-de..." She croaked, her voice appropriately tinny.
"What?" Sophie didn't get an answer before the guard passed out. "What's going on?"

Something dropped through the hole that the guard had fallen through. It was a sphere - a perfect sphere - purplish black, descending straight down towards them.
"What the hell is that?" Enhancegirl could see it, right enough, but she didn't understand at what she was looking. Falcona looked up - and her crystal blue eyes went wide with terror.
"For God's sake, grab onto something!" she cried out - before the sphere exploded.

That is, it burst. It did not explode in the traditional sense, of projecting force outwards in all directions. Rather, the three woman found themselves being pulled in.
"Wh-what the fuck?!" Sophie half-screamed, as she found herself hauled up into the air. "What's going on?!" As she got closer to the sphere's remaining core, she felt a painful strain on her body, worse and worse as she got closer. Mercifully, before she was in true agony, the sphere vanished, and she fell back to the ground. "Unnnhhh!" she cried out, dazed and nearly winded.
"What was that?" Caitiff cried out. She'd only been spared Sophie's ordeal by affixing herself to the ground using her gel. "Holy crap!" Chunks were torn out of the ground, bars had been ripped off some of the cells, and the machine which had bound Falcona and Enhancegirl together was utterly wrecked.
"That was me."

From the jagged hole in the ceiling, a figure descended. He dropped slower than he should have, adding to a sense of unsettling wrongness about him. He was huge, almost as tall as Hades, with long, blonde hair, a bristling beard, thick, pouting lips. Bare chested, he swept his hair out of his face like a supermodel, smiling at the three woman who faced him.
"Dextrus!" Falcona gasped, her voice trembling.
"Unghh..." Sophie stumbled to her feet. "Dextrus? Who the hell is that?"
"The keeper of the flame..." the man said. He smiled, and Sophie shuddered just from the sight of it. "That's what they called me, anyway. More like an attack dog, really." He didn't seem dissatisfied at this description of himself. He stepped forward, his image seeming to waver, even to Falcona and Enhancegirl. "Now...three lovely little treats for me to take a bite out of." He licked his thick lips. "You look delicious...eehehehehehhe...AHAHAHAHAHAHA!" His eyes flashed, and another sphere shot out at them from his chest. Roughly knowing what was coming, the three superhumans leapt for cover, but they were pulled in all the same when the sphere burst. They were almost pulled right into the sphere, but it vanished completely just before this happened, and they were sprawled at Dextrus' feet.

"Unnhh..." the three groaned, their bodies hurled about with ease by Dextrus' power.
"Some kind of...gravity power..." Sophie thought. "Maybe I can...aaahhh!" Before she could recover, Dextrus grabbed her by her long, flowing red hair, and hauled her up to her feet. He was strong, incredibly strong. It seemed that his powers had some fringe benefits as well.
"Elena!" Falcona cried out. She rushed to help her friend, but with a wave of his hand, Dextrus shot out another sphere, past Falcona. It burst, and she was thrown back, far from Sophie.
"Get off me, you...fucking...low rent Kurt Cobain!" the redhead demanded, squirming in his grasp as he clutched her hair.
"Oh...you're a quipper. I hate quippers..." Dextrus said, sounding well and truly bored. "Oh, could you say 'you'll never get away with this'? I love it when people say that. Imperion said it with such gravitas..."
"Urgh...I'm guessing he's the one that kicked your ass and put you away, right?" Sophie grinned. "Bet it stings whenever you -" Dextrus had locked eyes with her. They were huge. She felt like she would sink into them, like pools of tar.
"It took the entire West Coast Congress to put me down, little girl. When I fought Imperion, I made him howl in pain like an infant...that was quite funny." Sophie's powers gave her a very accurate capacity to tell when people were lying - and it seemed that this man was telling the truth.
"He...he beat Imperion?" Such a thing did not seem possible. "What the hell am I supposed to do against someone like that?"

Unimpressed, Dextrus tossed her back down, and Sophie got as far away from him as possible. From the cells, jeers and whoops went up, as the Supremacist's loyalists cheered on their greatest champion against the woman who'd defeated them.
"There's no real threats here," Dextrus muttered to himself. "But I suppose I'd better kill you..."
"Hey!" Caitiff shouted, in a panicked attempt to distract his attention. She lobbed a great quantity of gel at him, aiming to have it hit him in the mouth. But Dextrus was faster than his massive size suggested, and he launched out another sphere. As it travelled, it came into contact with the projectiles Caitiff had thrown. They were not evaporated, or disintegrated, or atomised. They simply stopped existing. Caitiff was almost frozen, but her wits returned to her long enough for her to run. There was a terrifying shriek of metal as the sphere burst, ripping apart the walls of the prison, and throwing sunlight within its confines. Again, Caitiff barely managed to avoid getting pulled in herself, and she looked on with terror.

Falcona wasn't quite in that state, but she certainly was afraid. Dextrus was not as flashy or as visually impressive as Nucleon or, indeed, his master. His powers would never be able to destroy a city, for instance - even a building would take a fair amount of effort. No - his was the power of an assassin. Could he do as much damage as, say, Nova? No, or not as quickly, at least. But one on one? There was no defence against those gravity spheres. One could only flee.

Which is why it was especially surprising that Enhancegirl was slowly approaching the long-haired demon. Falcona saw her muttering to herself. She thought she saw her say 'four seconds.'
"Falcona," the redhead called out. "Go to your husband. Stop the Supremacist. I'll deal with this guy."
"You'll what?!" Felicity was astonished, and that was putting it mildly. "Don't you know who he is? He'll kill you!"
"Maybe, maybe not," Enhancegirl said. "Either way, I'll hold him off." She fixed Falcona with a steely gaze. "You know it's worth it." Falcona opened her mouth to speak, but stopped herself. Sophie was right. To stop the Supremacist was worth her life.

Enhancegirl ran full tilt in the opposite direction from Falcona, picked up and hurled a chunk of ripped-up masonry towards the mangy villain. He threw out another gravity ball, disintegrating the redhead's attack. The gravity ball burst, and Sophie was yanked back towards it, but she grabbed onto a fixture in one of the walls, and rode out the suction until it stopped.
"Naughty...naughty girl..." Dextrus hummed. "You want all of my attention? You must be very...badly brought up. I'll...re-educate you. You and your -" He noticed something. He was not pleased to notice it. Enhancegirl was now the only one facing him: Falcona and Caitiff had slipped away. "Oh...oh, you have made a mistake," Dextrus growled. "There's nothing I hate more than clever women!"
"In that case," Enhancegirl said, "you're gonna fucking detest me."
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Can I make a suggestion?" Sara said, just as their helicopter landed on the roof of Bayview Precinct.
"Of course," Mariko replied. They hadn't talked much during their flight. "What is it?"
"Your outfit."
"My -?" Mariko didn't understand.
"We're about to meet with some grieving cops, and...I mean, I know we're superheroes, but your outfit is a little..."
"I see," Mariko said. She didn't see at all, but assumed that Nova would know better than her in such matters.
"I think we have one of those all-purpose bodysuits that Mark and Shane use."
"No need," Mariko said, with a sly smile. "Spectrum is Red." Her silver outfit vanished, replaced by her civilian clothes. But she wasn't finished. "I haven't done this in a while..." she thought.

Not since she'd called herself 'Lumina' and worn that truly ludicrous little two-piece ensemble had she employed this particular aspect of her powers. Here, her experience as a model was of great use, as she redesigned herself within her own mind. Concentrating deeply, she activated her powers once again - and was transformed.
"Ah good, it worked." Spectra said. The only thing she kept from her previous costume was her silver domino mask; the rest was totally different. She was now clad in a skintight bodysuit, of the same silvery, latex-ish material as her former outfit. It covered her completely, from her feet to her neck, even incorporating flat soles into the outfit itself. There were white accents at her chest, and shoulders, breaking up the unitary colour scheme, and the material covering her legs was a slightly lighter shade of silver, almost suggesting the appearance that Mariko was wearing tights, or stockings. The heroine looked down, admiring herself. "That should do it."

"That's...quite a fringe benefit you have there," Sara said, more than a little surprised by what she'd just seen.
"More appropriate?" Mariko said. Sara didn't answer at first. Certainly Spectra's new costume showed less skin - but it might as well have been painted onto her body, so completely did it reveal the graceful contours of her tall, gracefully feminine body.
"...sure," Sara said.

The two made their way inside, and met a sombre mood. No-one looked happy, but there were a few cops who were, or seemed recently to have been, crying.
"McTaggart," Nova said, approaching a woman in her early forties. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..." She hugged her.
"A second..." the woman said, her voice shaking, "just a second and they were...they were gone!"
"We'll do everything we can to make it right," Nova said. "I promise.

Somewhat uncomfortable with this interaction, Mariko looked around for someone else to talk to. Many were upset, and some were eyeing Spectra and Nova with what was anything from distaste to full-on hatred. Confused by this, Mariko found someone who looked a little less emotional.
"Hello," she said. "I am Spectra, of the Pauldron."
"Hi," the policeman replied. "I'm Fuller." They shook hands. Spectra liked this man immediately: he had a thoroughly businesslike quality to him.
"What's the status of the suspects?"
"One of them's still unconscious." Fuller was a sergeant, a burly man in his thirties, but he spoke with the gruffness of a grizzled old captain. "The other one...I mean, he's not exactly being co-operative, but he's sure talkative."
"What does he say?" Fuller grimaced.
"He...he said he did it for Hades."

Nova heard this too.
"No...no, no..." she thought. Images flashed into Sara's mind, the toxic-sweet smell of chloroform, the sensation of metal hands running all over her body, the humiliation. "Why her? Why is it always her?" Mariko was no more pleased to hear it.
"Is he working for Hades directly?" Spectra asked.
"I doubt it. He was rambling on about superhuman domination of the weak...he sounded more like one of the Supremacist's guys than anything else. I think he just heard the name and...used it as an excuse."
"She's like a virus..." Mariko thought, meaning Hades. "She doesn't even have to command people..."

"This is bullshit!" Another cop burst in, in the dark red of a CAEP officer. "You did this!" He was pointing at Nova.
"What? What the hell are you saying?"
"You - the Pauldron! Your fucking boss and his fucking RRA!" It took a moment for Nova to realise that he meant the Reduced Responsibility Act.
"What's the meaning of this?" Spectra said, coming forward. A few of the angry looking officers behind her stood up as well.
"Those little shits who killed our friends - they're only sixteen."
"So what? They can still be tried as adults for murder if -" Nova froze. "Oh, crap..."

The idea had been a noble one. Often, young superhumans just discovering their powers would hurt or even kill others by mistake as their abilities first manifested. This would lead to prison time - and all too often, push them towards earnest criminality with their newfound power. So, the Reduced Responsibility Act had been designed to prevent this from happening: minors killing with their powers would be immune from full prosecution. Unfortunately, youth did not always mean innocence.
"They're not gonna go to jail. Not real time, anyway," the CAEP officer said.
"They're children," Spectra said. "Isn't it better this way?"
"Better?!" This was one of the officers standing behind Spectra. "They killed cops - they should fucking fry!"
"Your role is to uphold the law," Spectra said, turning a withering gaze onto the officer. "If you want to change it, then resign your position." Nova glared at her.
"God damn it, that sort of talk is not gonna help right now!" She turned to face the CAEP specialist, the one who'd started shouting.

"Listen," Sara said. "There's very little legal precedent yet. For all we know, a skilled prosecutor could argue that this is terrorism, so it'd be a federal crime: the RRA is only law in California."
"Shut it!" the CAEP bellowed. "Fucking superhumans...you're all so god-damned arrogant!" Nova raised one of her hands, in an intended gesture of conciliation, but he didn't take it that way, and drew his pistol.
"Jesus, Cory, what are you doing?" Fuller cried out.
"She's pointing a lethal weapon at me, isn't she?" Cory said. "You could kill us all in twenty seconds, isn't that right?"
"But I'm not going to. Put the weapon down," Nova replied. "I know you've lost friends, but -"
"Shut up! Just shut up!"

Mariko had no interest in talking Cory down. She had calculated a much safer way of bringing him to heel. It would require only a miniscule fragment of her power to disarm him. She didn't understand why Nova was bothering to talk to him - except, perhaps, for the fact that her powers were more intrinsically destructive.
"I merely need to -" She hadn't seen it coming. She couldn't have. She couldn't have processed why someone would do something so irrational. One of the officers behind her, the one she'd told off, had drawn his billy-club. And as Spectra focused on the CAEP specialist, he walked right up behind her, and struck her hard across the back of the head.

"Aaahh!" Mariko cried out, stars flashing in front of her eyes. She tried to turn around, but her legs wouldn't obey. They trembled, and so did the rest of her. "Hhnnh...uhhh..." she moaned, as a helpless wooziness took hold of her. She stumbled forward a step, her arms falling to her sides. "Wh-what...wh...why...?" Stultified by the blow to her head, she couldn't think, couldn't use her powers. "Too...dizzy..." she mumbled, as her vision grew dark. "Unnhhh..." Swooning, the tall beauty dropped down onto her knees, her confident poise now reduced to meek, passive impotence.

"Spectra!" Nova cried out, but froze when Cory cocked his gun. The other officers, aside from the one who'd clubbed Spectra, were frozen in shock and confusion. That is, some were frozen, and some had drawn their weapons, now pointing them at each other, unsure who was ally and who was enemy.
"Don't move...don't even move!" Cory growled. Mariko had no choice but to move - that is, to fall. Her sparkling jade eyes grew dull, her eyelids fluttered.
"Ohh...ooohhh..." she mewed, as her eyes rolled back in her head, only a glimmer of her irises visible, as if she were looking heavenward for salvation. Slowly, but inevitably, she flopped forward. "Noooo..." she moaned as she fell prostrate onto the ground. The silver clad damsel lay flat on her front, slim arms by her sides, her long, gorgeous legs neatly placed next to each other, the former model seeming unable not to pose.
"Nighty, night, Spectra..." was the last thing Mariko heard before her eyes settled shut, and the Mistress of Light was lost to darkness...
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Uunnnghhh..." Caduceus groaned. He had never before encountered injuries like the Supremacist's, and the process of healing him was exhausting his strength.
"Oh...god, yeah!" Martin laughed. The charred lines on his skin were fading, an indigo fire in his eyes returning. "That's more bloody like it!" He grinned, and dared to test Caduceus' progress. He closed his eyes, and imagined a drill. Not just an image of one, not the idea of one, but in intimate, expert detail, down to the last working part. Martin didn't actually possess a university degree - in his youth, it just wasn't seen as necessary for everyone - but over the course of his life, he'd become a pretty proficient engineer. This wasn't for the sake of learning a trade, but for making his energy constructs all the stronger. He breathed out - and his vision flared into life.

"Boss, your powers!" Forrester said. "They're back!" But, within a moment, the construct flickered, faded, and vanished.
"Not done yet, I see," Martin said. "But progress is progress!" Forrester and Randolph cheered. Caduceus grimaced.
"They could lock me up for this," he thought. Would people blame him? Yes, probably. But he didn't care. Or rather, he did care...he just cared about his wife more.
"Lock us up," Martin said. Simon was startled by the coincidence of phrasing, Forrester and Randolph being startled by what was actually said.
"Um, boss," Forrester said, nervously, "we can't open this door from the inside."
"Nothing gets in until I'm fixed. Nothing gets out until I'm fixed. Get it?"
"Sure, boss." With a good degree of heaving from the Supremacist's men, the cell was shut tight. Simon felt a shiver run through him: now he was truly alone.

Outside, Chupacabra was pacing, biting her nails. The woman who'd rescued and recruited her, the silvery, buxom Sinistrus, stood nearby, waiting, guarding.
"Um..." Leanne started, but silenced herself. "Hey, um...Sinistrus?"
"Yes?" Sinistrus looked up at her, her long eyelashes fluttering. Leanne heard herself whimper.
"Um...when...when you asked me to help you..." She clenched a fist. "When you asked me to help you, I didn't realise you were working for the Supremacist!"
"Is that a problem?" Sinistrus asked, apparently without sarcasm or threat.
"Yeah! I thought...I mean, I knew you were breaking someone out, but not like...the worst supervillain ever!"

Sinistrus moved forward a couple of steps.
"Are you going to try to stop him?" she asked. Leanne was panting. "Do you have the moral courage, I wonder?" She came closer.
"I..." Leanne backed off. "He...he's killed thousands of people..."
"I know. And he'll kill more, I'm sure. He'll kill, and kill and kill, until the whole human world has been torn apart."
"Why would you want that?" Leanne gulped. She didn't like the look in Sinistrus' eye one bit.
"Because we're superior. Because it's what should happen." Her voice wavered slightly as she said this. For the first time, Leanne saw her expression flicker, representing something other than total poise. Actually, there had been one other occasion: when the Supremacist had kissed her. But her unflappability was swiftly restored. "There's really only one question, isn't there?"
"What?"
"What are you willing to do about it?"

Chupacabra backed off a step.
"I..." 'Do'? What could she do? What was she supposed to do against the Supremacist? But then, she didn't have to fight the Supremacist, did she? "I...could probably take those two goons...yeah...holy shit, yeah! I could...I could take them out...I could save the world! I bet they'd give me a pardon! A-and Catherine too...I could lie and say she helped! I could - MMMMPHH!!"

It was such a strange feeling. She'd known that Sinistrus was there, of course, but she just hadn't been able to take her into account. Not even in the abstract - she'd pushed the white haired villain out of her mind completely. It had been simplicity itself for Sinistrus to simply walk behind her, dose in halothane the same rag she'd used to subdue Enhancegirl, and thrust it over Leanne's mouth and nose.
"You've completed your task now, Leanne...I think it's time for you to have a nice...long...rest..."
"Mmhh! Mhhgghhhmphhh!" Leanne tried to get her hands onto Sinistrus, to use her powers to suck out her strength, but her jumpsuit covered too much of her body. Simply by wrapping one arm around her chest, Sinistrus kept her from getting her hands onto her, and Leanne's long, soft green hair prevented her from touching her captor with the skin of her face. "What's she doing?! Wh...what's going on? Why is she...drugging me...unnhhh..." Already the girl found her vision growing blurry. Her legs kicked, her hands flapped at her sides, but every more slowly, ever more uselessly.

"Hey, what's going on?" Randolph heard the scuffle and came out of Martin's cell. "Sinistrus, what are you doing?"
"That's no concern of yours, Red Alert," the villain said. She pulled Leanne a little closer, hearing a muffled mew from the dazed damsel as her limbs started getting looser, softer.
"Did she betray us? Don't knock her out, break her fucking neck!" Leanne barely heard this. A fog had descended over her, a thick fog, thinking now like trying to swim through tar.
"Ghmphh...mmhhbhhmhh..." Leanne mumbled, her body undulating softly as the halothane took her strength from her.

"She's a callow little fool," Sinistrus said. "Not a traitor. Go back inside. I am...dealing with this." Randolph grouchily obeyed. Lowering her voice she added: "Not a traitor...but not an innocent either...not an innocent at all..."
"Mmmphh...mmmhh...hhhmm..." Leanne felt herself going totally limp, her lovely green eyes fluttering, as though she were trying to flirt. "Not...fair...I helped...it's not..." She blushed slightly as Sinistrus drew her even closer, feeling the villain's ample bust against her back. Her arms slackened, and Sinistrus let them go, as they flopped down towards the ground.
"I smell it, Leanne, I smell it on you..." She buried her face in Leanne's thick, green hair. "You've done bad things...you're a sinner...but you're not like me, are you? Not even like Caitiff..."

Leanne was so drowzy that she couldn't be sure of anything. Her ears were ringing, her limbs felt numb and shivery - but she could have sworn she felt something dropping onto her forehead. "Water...no...it's...tears...?"
"I was going to use you...I thought you were another wretch like Greyhand," Sinistrus said, and even now Leanne could hear the emotion in her voice. "I was going to toss you aside once I was finished with you, but there is something to save, isn't there? A softness..."
"Mmmmhhh..." Lightly fondled, Leanne nonetheless found herself blushing as Sinistrus held her. "Can't...get away...my...body...h-help...Cat..."
"I've done terrible things, Leanne. Awful things in service of the world to come...but you haven't. You're crooked, but nowhere near evil. There's still time." She felt a strange sensation come over her. It was joy, and submission and a kind of...holy surrender. Where had it come from? No, it had always been there. Sinistrus' tears flowed in earnest now. "You can be what you ought to be," she said, embracing Leanne with an almost maternal tenderness. "She can -"

Despite the fact that Sinistrus had power over people's perception of her, she herself did not possess any increased capacity to detect the presence of others. Still, she was an experienced fighter, and had learned to trust her instincts, and her instincts told her that someone was behind her. With half a second's focus, Sinistrus triggered the aspect of her power which caused her to be ignored. At the same time, she spun around, Leanne still in her grip, and shoved the green-haired lass forward. This was intended simply to get her out of the way, but it had another effect as well.

For Sinistrus' attacker had aimed her projectiles at the villainess' back. But when Sinistrus triggered her power, the assailant instantly forgot her - but she was still attacking. So without thinking, she found herself aiming at the not-quite-unconscious Chupacabra. Three projectiles hit the sleepy convict - one in the calves, one in her chest, and the other over her mouth.
"Mmhhh...?" She was too drained of strength and presence of mind really to notice what was happening. Pink gel slapped across her lips, gagging her at once. The gel that hit her chest and legs immediately spread out to bind her limbs, affixing Leanne's arms to her sides, and snapping her legs together as the gel stretched, constricted and squeezed. "Mnnnnmmhh..." Leanne mewed as - drugged, gagged, and helplessly bound - she began to tumble in a heap to the ground.

"Oh, shit!" It was Catherine. Guided by Falcona's vision, the convict and the hero had made their way towards the Supremacist's cell as swiftly as humanly possible, every second growing more astonished that Dextrus had not killed Sophie and caught up with them. Almost getting the drop on her, Catherine had aimed at that woman with the white hair, but now she was gone - like she'd never even been there. "How the hell...?" As her sighing, sleepy friend slumped down onto her side, Catherine ran to help her.
"Stop!" Falcona's voice rang out with aristocratic authority. "It's Sinistrus' doing. Back away from your friend." Gingerly, Catherine did so. Looking back at Leanne, she gulped. Seeing the lovely, green-haired lass - with her fine features, pretty, slanted eyes and deliciously trim figure - bound, gagged and drugged into mewing, doe-eyed helplessness...it made Catherine shiver with pleasure, even as she chided herself for it. But still, mostly she just wanted to rescue her from Sinistrus' clutches - all the more literally now - and was frustrated in the extreme by the fact that this was not a viable option. She looked around for the villain in question, but it was difficult even to remember that she was looking for her.

"Mmmhh...mmmhhh?" Leanne's vision was blurry, but there was no mistaking the figure of her beloved friend in front of her. This gave her no comfort, however, but merely added to her dismay. Tears ran down her light-brown cheeks as the dazed damsel only felt another betrayal. "Why...why is...everyone...c...capturing...me?" This thought defeated her. She mewed more and more softly, until finally she was as still and quiet as a statue - save for the slow undulations of her chest.
"Leanne!" Catherine cried out, as she saw her friend slip into unconsciousness. She felt like a fool. "Damn it, where is she?" Catherine growled, ignoring the woman with white hair to her left as she looked for Sinistrus.
"Give me a moment..." Falcona said, as Sinistrus passed unnoticed behind her. She concentrated as hard as she could, allowing herself to see everything. She saw the walls' composition, the advanced inlay of a dozen different alloys and polycarbonate shells; she saw reflections of reflections, saw into Leanne and Catherine's cardiovascular systems, saw the reduced brain activity in the slumbering Leanne, saw the frenzied activity beneath Catherine's skull, failed to see Sinistrus moving right up close to her.

And she saw, too, the men within the Supremacist's cell. Pincushion, Red Alert, the Supremacist himself - and her beloved Simon. She saw him struggling, panting. Saw the hated villain sitting across from him, waxing in strength as Caduceus waned. She felt fury - not at Simon for co-operating, but at the Supremacist for taking advantage of his love and devotion to her. It distracted her greatly, and that distraction proved crucial.

Crucial in Falcona's favour, that is. Distracted by her anger, she stopped looking for Sinistrus, just for a moment. Thus, when she perceived a mote of dust moving in the periphery of her left field of vision, it was sufficiently disconnected in her mind from her search that Sinistrus' powers could not quite get her to ignore it. For this reason, Falcona instinctively lashed out - and struck Sinistrus in the neck.

"Ungh!" The white haired villain fell back, gasping with pain. Falcona's strike was uncharacteristically inaccurate, but it was still painful. Sinistrus' concentration was disrupted, and her 'field of ignorance', as the Supremacist had once called it, was shaken.
"There you are!" Felicity called out, and followed up her attack by delivering a snap kick to Sinistrus' temple. If she'd remained stiff, this would have knocked her out, but Sinistrus bent like a reed, allowing herself the force of Falcona's attack to push her over. Hitting the ground still hurt, but it was better than being knocked out.

"Not so smooth and silky when you aren't ambushing people, are you, Sinistrus?" Felicity said. She'd fought Sinistrus before - one outright loss, and a couple of briefer, inconclusive encounters. This was going to be sweet.
"Falcona," the villain replied, hopping to her feet. "I have no wish to harm you."
"Then surrender, darling," Falcona replied. "I feel awkward enough as it is fighting in this dress." Felicity gestured at her short, loose, summer dress. "Really, I don't know how Enhancegirl does it..."

Knowing that it would not be possible to get Falcona to completely forget about her presence now that she was so fixated on her, the villain tried to disorient her, triggering and turning off her field of ignorance in rapid succession. Perturbed, Falcona backed off. The sensation was like Sinistrus flitting in and out of existence. If she'd just faded out, Falcona's super-sight would have been able to search for subtle signs of her presence, but it couldn't adjust. Sinistrus seemed as if she were teleporting back and forth, with no logic as to her appearances. She closed in, and struck, intending to wind Falcona into helplessness with one punch.

"Urgh!" Felicity's eyes caught just enough at the very last moment that she managed to twist herself partly out of the way. But the blow still caught her in the side, and she was put off balance. Stumbling backwards, Sinistrus would probably have defeated her then and there, had Catherine not intervened.
"Hey, did you just forget about me?" Caitiff barked, hurling a volley of gel globules, each primed to stretch over and bind anything they struck. In a position of vantage, Sinistrus was more than able to dodge the projectiles, but she grimaced at the situation in which she found herself. She'd deprived herself of any assistance when she'd drugged Chupacabra - though it was possible that she'd prevented it from being a three-on-one battle - and Pincushion and Red Alert were on the other side of Martin's cell door. This left her 'field of focus' more or less useless, since its best function was to distract foes from one of her allies.

Sinistrus looked at her two enemies, and frowned deeply. She found a sort of deep disappointment bubbling up for both. For Falcona, whose lack of vision was an almost cheap irony. And Caitiff, the lustful pervert, vainly trying to redeem herself, a pretense of nobility. "Poor wretches," Sinistrus thought, "ignorant, hypocritical...sinners..." As that last word rang in her mind, a stratagem presented itself. Her scowl turned into a smile.

"Keep up the assault, Catherine!" Falcona said. She allowed herself a smile despite the situation. She didn't know why Sophie had felt the need to slap Catherine, and she didn't want to know. Gel-Belle was showing herself to be a resolute, reliable ally. "As long as you don't hit me, just keep shooting - put her off balance!"
"Right," Catherine said. This was weird. Fighting alongside Falcona, trying to stop the Supremacist. Even Enhancegirl had seemingly forgiven her after taking a pretty meagre revenge. She felt like...she felt like a hero.

The problem was, she didn't feel like a very good one. Whatever her skillset was, this wasn't in it: firing randomly as cover. Like Sinistrus, she was an ambush fighter at heart. Her enemy flitting in and out of her pereception - it was maddening!
"Maybe I snag the Sinister Missy," she thought, "maybe I give her the - " Before she could even realise the less than moral direction in which this thought was tending, Sinistrus suddenly appeared, or rather, became perceptible. She looked tired, angry, as if her power were running out of juice. "Gotcha!" she laughed. She began spraying gel at her enemy, who managed limberly to dodge, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. Caitiff's focus was totally on Sinistrus. She could see nothing else, think of nothing else. Unfortunately, this was true of Falcona as well.

Both Falcona and Caitiff saw nothing but their white haired enemy, and so neither took the other into account. And so, despite her incredible vision, and the fact that she had seen it coming, Falcona didn't notice the glob of gel until it was too late.
"Aah!" she gasped, as the sticky, purple gel slapped over her right hand, smacking it against a wall and trapping it in place. "Shit!" She tried to wrench her hand free, but she wasn't strong enough. The heroine realised instantly what had happened, and felt a fool for allowing herself to be tricked. Caitiff felt even more a fool: that was twice now that Sinistrus had used her own powers against her.

The heroine and convict's shock and embarrassment was all that Sinistrus needed. Shifting the polarity of her power, she triggered her field of ignorance, and even Falcona now lost track of her. Caitiff looked around, her inexperience in pitched combat making her unfocused, almost fearful. It did not, alas, do her any good. Sinistrus closed the gap so quickly that Caitiff would have been caught off guard even if Sinistrus hadn't been using her powers. As it was, she sprang forward, drew back her left leg, and thrust her knee hard into Caitiff's stomach.

"Oooohhhgghhh!" the mauve-haired criminal gasped and groaned all at once. Her legs went shaky, her lungs felt nearly crippled, and her spots appeared in front of her eyes. She was devastatingly winded, and she collapsed to her knees, clutching her stomach, coughing and spluttering. Stronger in her abdominal muscles than Dr Yveson had been, she was not knocked unconscious, but she was taken totally out of the fight.

Perhaps because Caitiff was weakened, Falcona felt the gel trapping her hand begin to loosen. Summoning what strength there was in her thin arm, with a great grunt she pulled herself free. She opened her eyes as wide as she could, and tried to take in any and all visual information that she could possibly absorb. Unfortunately, though, her field of vision was no wider than that of an ordinary person. Everything in front of her, she could see. Knowing that she was looking for Sinistrus, her senses were just too powerful to fool completely...but Sinistrus didn't need to fool them completely. All she'd need to do was to get behind the spry, bare-legged blonde.

"It's over," Sinistrus said, and before Felicity could so much as blink, she felt Sinistrus' fingers driven into the base of her spine.
"Ah...!" Falcona could do nothing more than give a short, breathless squeak. Her whole body went stiff. Her arms, legs were frozen. She couldn't even turn her head.
"I've always admired your mastery of pressure-point techniques, Falcona," Sinistrus said. "When you nearly captured me with them in El Paso last year, I realised that it behoved me to...study up." She slowly ran her free hand up Falcona's back.
"Grhh..n-no!" Falcona could barely open her mouth. She couldn't move a muscle. Frozen by her own, perfectly imitated techniques - it was agonisingly shameful.
"Did you really think you could stand against us, Falcona?" Sinistrus said. "A droplet of water cannot resist a waterfall - it can only add to the flow, not diminish it."
"Wh-why? Why d-do you want this? Why do you want t-to free him?" Falcona's voice was croaky, strangled. She felt panicked, her heart thumping against her ribcage. They'd failed. She'd failed. The Supremacist would be free, all because of her insufficient skill.
"I...?" Sinistrus did not hesitate because Falcona had caused her any doubt. She hesitated because she literally didn't understand why anyone would have asked. She elected to ignore the question entirely. Centring herself, she took a long, deep breath, extended the middle and index fingers of her free hand - and jabbed Falcona six times with devastatingly effective accuracy.

"Ahh!!" Felicity gasped, feeling like electric shocks were travelling through her body. She shivered, mouth agape, eyes wide. Something was happening to her - the rigid stiffness that had been inflicted on her was passing away, only to be replaced by the total loss of any and all strength. Felicity could feel herself growing limp. Her slim arms flopped to her sides, her bare legs quivering as they lost the capacity to hold her up.

"Do you feel it, Falcona?" Sinistrus said. "Do you feel the weakness? There's no escaping it now...you've lost. Fall, Falcona. Fall..."
"Ahh...ahhhhhhh...!" Felicity moaned, her slight, feminine frame betraying her. She felt herself begin to tumble down, first to her knees, the impact briefly exposing her as the hem of her dress jolted upwards, her modest, perky breasts shaking visibly in the loose fabric of her outfit. "No..." the lovely blonde mewed, with an aghast finality, as she slumped down onto her front, her cheek resting on the cold, hard ground. She lay there, still, subdued and helpless - totally paralysed, and utterly defeated.

Sinistrus tried to disguise her heavy breathing. Her victory had been hard-fought, to say the least - but it had been a victory. She looked down at her fallen enemy, tutted to herself: she looked so dishevelled. She took Falcona's long, limp legs and placed them neatly side by side, before moving her arms, which lay askew about her, in straight lines by her sides.
"S...stop..." Felicity said. "P...please stop..."
"I won't hurt you more than I have," Sinistrus assured her. "It has always been my position that you have a place in the new world."
"Stop him...he'll kill...so many people...m-my husband..." She was under no illusions of the Supremacist's mercy. She believed fully that he would kill Simon when he was finished. "I couldn't save him..."
"You're very beautiful, Falcona," Sinistrus said. There was an odd flatness to her voice as she spoke. On the next sentence, however, it wavered greatly: "If you...submitted, I'm sure you could save your husband." As she spoke, she was removing the cloth she'd subdued Leanne and Sophie with. Finding it dry, she reapplied the bottle of halothane, drenching the thick cloth in far more than was needed.
"You can't...you can't..." Falcona moaned, "you - mmmmmmmmmppphhhh!" Sinistrus didn't bother to hold the pad down, or anything like that. She simply lifted Felicity's head, placed the cloth under her mouth and nose, and left it there. "Mmmmhhh! MMmpphhhh... nnnhhhmmmpphh..." Paralysed, Falcona couldn't only lie there, breathing in the sedative, her failure and dismay pulsing through her slender body, even as the defeated damsel grew sleepier...and sleepier...

Nearby, Catherine was still wheezing, barely holding onto consciousness herself. She, alas, was not treated with even as much dignity as Falcona had been, her captor striding up to her, giving her a dirty - even contemptuous - look.
"You're disgusting," she said. "I can smell it on you..."
"Wh-" Barely a phoneme escaped Catherine's lips before Sinistrus kicked her. The kick snapped her head back against a wall with a sickening thud. "Unhh...uuuuuuhhh..." Catherine groaned, as she slumped to the side, her eyes rolling back in her head.
"She needs to be corrected." The thought that passed through Sinistrus' mind was odd. It felt foreign, intrusive...yet quite accurate. She glanced deeper down the security hall, to the other max-security cells. Something drew her attention, but she wasn't sure what it was.

As for Falcona, she lay on her front, trim and neat and pretty as a rose-petal in the way she'd been laid out, humbly, obediently allowing herself to be sedated. Her mind grew foggier, a great soft cloud wrapping around her, subduing her thoughts, choking her intellect and keeping her weak. Her long legs glistened with sweat, her slowly rising and falling bosom pushed lightly against the ground, and she continually, helplessly whimpered and mewed as slumber overtook her. She'd been captured before, she'd been defeated before - and galling as it was, she took defeat better than most. But not now. Not with all that was at stake. As she drowned deeper and deeper in warm, stifling darkness, she only felt despair at her loss.
"Simon...Simon..." she thought, though calling her half-conscious mental sobs 'thoughts' might have been generous. "Darling...please...don't..." Don't aid the Supremacist? Don't sacrifice yourself? Don't die? Even Falcona didn't really know what she meant. As her pretty, blue eyes fluttered, one last bastion of useless resistance before her slide into powerless slumber, she gave a long, slow, muffled sigh into the drug-soaked rag, before she gave in entirely. Two criminals, and one hero lay, unconscious and defeated at Sinistrus' feet. But the villain did not pity them. No. Soon, they would learn their place. And once Dextrus had done his work, provided that he did not kill her of course, so too would a certain smooth-limbed redhead...
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"So, gents, this is how it's gonna work," Greyhand said, flexing his special hand. "Anyone who's with the Supremacist, any 'the Future Belongs to the Super' types - today's your lucky day. A little bird tells me you guys are gonna be real happy in not too long, alright?" He had attracted quite a crowd. Hades' loyalists followed him because he was formerly relatively close to their master's inner circle; the Supremacist's loyalists followed him because of the instrumental role he seemed to have played in their master's imminent freedom. And no-one wanted to fight the man who had just defeated the Generator himself, who now lay bleeding profusely at Raymond's feet - surely dying.

Nearby, Catastrophe slunk into a corner. He had a mind to attack Greyhand, but he didn't. It was because of all those other superhumans around him, yeah. Oh - and also because with his metal-eating power, he might be able to help them escape prison. That was it. He definitely wasn't afraid of him. Of course not. That would be ridiculous. Hammerblow and Mindblow followed his lead of course, but neither were very happy about it.

"After what I just did," Greyhand went on, "the Supremacist is gonna be very grateful, I'm guessing. And hell, when he takes over the world, or whatever, dude's gonna need governors or generals or whatever. Well you're looking at one of them." No-one wanted to question him. Raymond had probably never felt this happy in his life. The fear in the others' eyes - the respect! Small fry, was he? A chump, was he? Well not anymore! Now he was the guy who'd beaten the Generator. Now he was the top dog!

That was certainly how he felt until the wall behind him exploded, at least.
"Urrghh!" He grunted, using his hand to protect himself from flying chunks of metal. Several of his peers were not quite so lucky in the nature of their powers, and were pelted with debris. When the dust cleared, Greyhand - and quite a few others - were rather surprised to see what had come through the wall of their block. "Well," Raymond said, "isn't this a fun reunion?"

There was a woman lying on the ground, grimacing. One of her bare shoulders was grazed, her gold dress was torn in places, and she had a pained grimace on her face. A year ago, she'd have been a face only those few who'd met her personally would have recognised. Now, however, they all knew Enhancegirl.
"Urrghh..." she groaned, panting, half-exhausted. Struggling to her feet, she gasped for air. "Where...is he?"
"Well, look what we found?" Greyhand laughed. "A cute redhead chick in a little dress...come to entertain the boys, have -"
"Shut up, and back off!" Enhancegirl barked, with such obvious urgency that Greyhand couldn't help but fall silent. "I mean it, unless you want to die, back off now!"

A few of the prisoners actually obeyed the heroine, and started moving away. This was just as well, for a dark, pulsating orb of energy hovered in through the hole that had been carved in the prison's wall.
"Oh, shit!" Sophie picked herself up and ran as fast as she could from it. "Get out of the way, get out of the way!" she cried. Most, including Greyhand, were sensible enough to do this. Some even knew themselves what was coming. Some weren't.
"AAAHHHHH!!" A criminal named Masterson screamed as the sphere burst, sucked him in towards it. He screamed in terrible, agonising pain, until his screams were strangled, his bones contorting with sickening, squelching crunches.
"No! NO!" Enhancegirl screamed. She didn't know that this man was a vicious, violent murderer. She just knew that he was a human being, and he was terrified. He was dead about a second before he reached the orb, but it didn't stop him getting sucked right into it, compressed into a sphere of blood, bone and bile and then - as far as anyone could tell - simply removed from existence.

"J...Jesus Christ!" Greyhand quailed, backing away even more hurriedly now. "What the hell w-was that?"
"Little girl!" A voice rang out, a slow, low voice that nonetheless quivered the eardrums of those who heard it. "Little girl...you've scurried about for too long." Out of the darkness, a huge man with straggly blonde hair and thick, feminine lips stepped through the breach.
"Dextrus!" Raymond's fifteen minutes of fame, as it were, were over. The terror of Dextrus saw to that.

"No more running. No more chasing. This wasn't what I was meant to do. If the master is angry with me because of your...scurrying, I won't be pleased. I will punish you. Or...wait, no." He grinned. "I'm just going to kill you here." While the other prisoners scurried away, Enhancegirl did not. To Dextrus' great surprise, she actually stepped forward.
"Are you enjoying this? Huh? Are getting your jollies from scaring and killing people?" That man's screams still rang in her ears. "Do you like it? Do you find it fun, you fucking psychopath?!"
"Yes, little girl," Dextrus replied. "I find it very fun. It's...delightful." Sophie kept coming forward. "Oh no. No, this is just obscene! By god, you don't actually think you can defeat me, do you?"
"Defeat you?" Enhancegirl clenched her fists. "I worked out how to defeat you about ten minutes ago. I just didn't know how to do it without killing you." She picked up a small piece of broken metal. "I think this should do it."
"Absurd...disgustingly absurd!" Dextrus roared like an animal, and shot out another of his orbs. Again, Enhancegirl ran to evade it, but an eagle-eyed observer would have seen that she was counting to herself.

The sphere burst, gravity ripping up the ground, ripping up any object that happened to be close enough. Sophie had to grab onto the bars of a cell so as not to get pulled in herself, but she wasn't just evading. She looked straight at Dextrus - and she threw.
"Huh?" The throw was wide, by anyone's reckoning. It first appeared like she'd been trying to throw a projectile directly at Dextrus, avoiding his gravity sphere. She'd tried this before, but his enhanced strength and durability - necessary by-products of the strain put in him by his own powers - had meant that she'd not be able to damage him much. No, if anything, it was like she was aiming at the sphere itself. Yet even then, she was wide of the mark. So much so that the projectile was caught in the sphere's gravity well, but didn't even get sucked in. It orbited the sphere, spinning round in a half-circle.
"Three..." Enhancegirl counted off. "Two...one..."

Right on cue, Dextrus' sphere vanished. It hadn't taken long for Sophie to realise the regularity of Dextrus' attacks. They always travelled at the same speed. There were always four and a half seconds between Dextrus manifesting them, and their gravity effect triggering. That effect always lasted for almost exactly three seconds. Half by analysis, half by instinct, Sophie had realised how she could use this. The projectile she'd thrown was caught in the sphere's gravity well, and then, when the gravity effect ended, it was released, the centrifugal force carrying it at a far, far greater speed and force than Sophie could possibly have mustered unaided. It moved at roughly the speed of a bullet from a high-powered rifle, and struck Dextrus in the head with such force that it would have torn clean through the head of a normal man. As it was, the blow merely fractured his skull.

"Augh! Auhhh...hhhhaannhhhkkkhhhhh!" The indecipherable gargling from Dextrus was all the stunned villain was able to say. Blood spurted from the wound he'd been given. His body convulsed, and shook, before with a groan, he collapsed onto the ground. He wasn't dead, but he easily could have been. Sophie was pleased to know that she hadn't taken his life, but rather got the feeling that she wouldn't have been all that broken up about it if she had. She turned, exhausted, and grimacing, towards the other prisoners, standing victorious in what would later come to be known as 'The Hall of Upsets.'

Greyhand took his opportunity, and stepped forward. This was the moment to reclaim his status.
"Bet you're pretty pleased with -" Enhancegirl didn't even look at him. There was plenty of debris to choose from, and she kicked some up into her hand. She threw it against the bars of Rockhead's cell, off which it bounced, before ricocheting off a broken security camera, and then colliding with the back of Greyhand's head. "...uh...ow...?" Raymond said, before he fell flat on his face, knocked unconscious with a single blow.
"Oh, fuck yes!" Mindblow cackled, seeing Greyhand fall. "Ah, shit, I think I've got a new favourite superhero."

"Well?" Enhancegirl shouted, breathless, panting, her long legs glimmering with sweat, her breathing heavy. "Who...else wants some?" She was tired. She was a personal enemy to many of them. She was gorgeous, and looked oh-so-vulnerable in her glimmering, revealing dress. Many was the man who wanted to subdue her, and she knew it. As the shock faded from the faces of her enemies to confidence, and even outright lewdness, Enhancegirl realised something. "I can't win..." If she'd been fresh, if this had been the beginning of her battles, then she would have had a chance. But she was exhausted. The humiliating ordeal of her capture. Jade and the others from K-Section. Her running battle with Dextrus. She couldn't take them all, not as she was then. But she didn't have to. She'd kept Dextrus away from Falcona and Caitiff. Better than that, she'd defeated him completely. She imagined Mariko hearing about it. She knew how proud she would be, how pleased for Sophie, how her respect would grow. Sophie, outside of her darker moments, felt already that she stood as an equal with her lover as a woman, as a person. But now...was there a hint, just a hint...that she could stand as her equal as a hero as well? That thought pushed her on and, smiling, she leapt into battle, with all the fire and grace that her name had come to imply.


It was tragic, then, that the maiden's efforts had been in vain. For, as Sinistrus finished tying up her slumbering captives - Caitiff and Falcona - she saw a light coming from within Martin's cell. A blue light. The unmatched, cerulean might of the Supremacist...
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DrDominator9
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Terrific battle scenes and knockout scenes. Great to see Enhancegirl doing so well for a change. Great fun all around!
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Damselbinder

"Oh shit, oh shit!" A young lawyer was cowering in the small waiting room. None of the visitors had been allowed to leave, and they could hear the sounds of battle, panicked voices from the radio of the lone guard who watched over them. As it happened, this lawyer - one Christopher Pullman - was there on Jason Johansson's behalf, trying to kick-start the parole process. He hadn't even let his client know he was there.

Though Hayward's interdiction against calls for outside aid had been implicitly lifted with his defeat, the visitors' confiscated cellphones still hadn't been given back. Except for Pullman's - he'd never turned his in.
"Come on, come on..." he mumbled as he nervously punched in some keys. He wasn't calling the police. What the hell would they do? No, he was calling another client of his, one whom he'd successfully paroled about seven months earlier. "Oh, thank god!" he cried out, when he heard the man pick up. "Max, how you doin'? Yeah, uh, great...say...you still running with those...? Oh, great! 'Cause we're having a problem here, that I think you might just be suited for..."
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
What were Sinistrus' emotions, as she saw the return to power of her master? It was very hard to say. She was pleased, of course: for her plan had succeeded, and one hardly ever sniffs at success. She was surprised that his power had come back to such vigour - the door of his cell was torn clean off, hurled effortlessly to one side. But mostly, mostly she felt a sort of terrified, humble fear. He stepped out, cloaked in a wavering, light-warping aura of cerulean, a deep, beautiful blue light about him. His efforts of the previous year had not made him young, but he now had the appearance of a healthy, vigorous man in his early forties, when he was in fact nearly sixty-eight.

"It's been too long...it's been far too long," Martin said, breathing deeply. "Gold, silver, whores - Caduceus, mate, you want it, it's yours!"
"Go to hell," Caduceus replied, shaking with guilt and fear. "Go to -" He didn't get to finish. A ribbon of deep-blue light shot out at him. It seized him around the throat, squeezed, and then hurled him bodily out of Martin's cell. He hit the opposite wall with a terrific, disgusting crack.

"Uurrghh..." Simon groaned. He could feel that two of his ribs were broken. Wearily, he placed his hand on his chest, and began to apply his power to himself, but he was weakened by his efforts at healing the Supremacist, and broken bones were not easily repaired, even by him. His vision blurry from the impact, he looked up - and saw a vision from his nightmares.

As powerful as many superhumans were, for most of the twentieth century supervillains had been problematic at worst. Threats to local police, or to cities, or even to small countries - maybe. Then he'd arrived. From the moment he'd thrown that Boeing into the U.S.S. Theodore Roosevelt, everyone had known he was something different. Charisma aside, philosophy aside, private army aside - the Supremacist had been the first person where the idea of them taking over the world wasn't just a joke. He could have done it. If the Titan hadn't stopped him, he probably would have done it. The first real would-be-conqueror - and he was standing right over Caduceus, resplendent in the fullness of his might, the vigour of his newfound youth. Simon had never been more terrified in his entire life.

"I made you an offer of friendship, mate," Martin said, trying to look angry, but too delighted with the return of his full strength to seem anything but giddy, "and that's an offer I don't make more than once." He conjured in his mind the image of a sword, and one appeared. He decided that was a little dull, and so instead created a bifurcated, three-bladed chainsaw. Then, thinking that a little ostentatious, he dialled it down to an ordinary circular saw. "The Goldilocks of murder weapons..." he thought to himself with a chuckle.

"M-master," Sinistrus said, as she saw him about to plunge his construct into Simon's chest. "Your power...!" Immediately, Martin turned to his servant. Saw the fair, beautiful woman - firm, and buxom with that thick, white hair, and silvery skin. Saw her eyes, staring up at him with amazement, and just the right amount of fear. He saw, as he always did, her limber, coiled confidence fade into pigeon-toed meekness in his sight, and he felt his restored heart pound in his chest. So young, and ripe...and he was not quite so old himself anymore, was he?

Without another thought, he reached out with his power, forming twin coils like the tendrils of a squid. They coiled swiftly around Sinistrus' body, snapping her arms to her sides. Gasping, she was hauled in, and found herself locked into a kiss with her master. If one could even call it that: he crushed her against his body, his hands squeezing and grasping her all over, kissing her with such furious, hungry intensity that she could barely breathe. She heard Pincushion and Red Alert whooping and whistling, and she felt almost faint. When Martin at last pulled away, her cheeks were burning red, her expression was as if she'd been subjected to the halothane she'd used to such a potent effect against her captives. He held her by the shoulders, and she looked up at him, with limpid eyes.

"Lisandra, my little ray of sunshine," Martin said, uncoiling Sinistrus. "I'll never forget this. I'll never forget what you did. And I'll reward you...as often as you like." He stroked her cheek, almost panting with lust. "Your old man would be so proud of you, darlin'."
"Yes, master," she said. His power radiated out of him, wrapping her in it like a blanket; a thick, dark blanket, squeezing, choking - painful...but comfortingly familiar. Ever since his defeat and arrest the previous year, with Dextrus long since locked up she'd been running what remained of the Supremacist's organisation single-handedly. She'd hated it...and now she was free of it. Free to submit once again.

Caduceus, largely forgotten, lay gasping and groaning at Martin's feet. It was only when his own life was not under such immediate threat that he had the presence of mind to take in his surroundings. Only then did he see his wife.
"F-Felicity!" A tinge of relief covered his fear - she was alive. Unconscious and tied up, yes, but she was alive. This expiated his guilt to some extent, at least: his efforts hadn't been in vain.
"It's alright..." he thought to himself. "The Titan will stop him, or the Pauldron, or something...you made the right choice - you couldn't let her die!" Yet even this was only the smallest of comforts.

"Right, back to business!" the Supremacist cackled. "How many more of our loyal brothers and sisters have we got in this little corner of the world?"
"Four in this section," Pincushion answered. "Nifelheim, Ferro-Mag, Generalissimo, and Five-Star. The rest aren't with us."
"Brilliant," Martin said. He reached out with his power towards the cell next to his, and tore away with a flick a security door at which Valora herself would have balked. The security field remained, but this was no barrier to him. He stabbed into it with simple spear-constructs, and drained away the energy in half an instant. He experienced the same explosive feedback that Chupacabra had - but with decidedly less effect on him than it had on her. Inside, a heavy, muscular woman with ice-blue skin looked up with amazement at her risen leader. "Lord Supremacist?"
"The very same, darlin'. Tell me...still got an appetite for buildin' a new world order?"

Sinistrus watched as her lord and master freed more of his greatest servants, feeling a kind of coldness within her. It was all she had wanted, to be back in his presence, but now that she was actually there...she felt nauseous.
"Poor girl..." Lisandra froze in place. Had that been her own thought? She looked around, confused. "Poor girl...such a shame about your father..."
"Who's there?" Lisandra turned around, but there was no-one. Was it a telepath, perhaps? It would have to be a very powerful one - she was normally pretty resistant to telepathy.

She walked further down the security hall, away from the others. Something was drawing her in - something was beckoning her along. Something with an intense familiarity. Sinistrus found herself triggering her field of ignorance. She didn't know why, but she didn't want the others to notice her.
"Your gratitude...your subservience...they speak well of you Lisandra. Such appropriately feminine qualities...ones I have always admired in you. But you've given them to such a foul beast of a man..."
"Who are you?" Lisandra only thought this response - if the voice did belong to a telepath, they would hear her.
"Such a pretty little girl you were when he took you in...and how he noticed as you ripened..." Sinistrus clutched her chest.
"How...how could you know that?"
"Because you told me, of course."

Lisandra's coldness was gone, her nausea was gone. Everything was gone. It was like her field of ignorance had collapsed in upon itself, and now she could perceive nothing, feel nothing.
"Your gratitude is misplaced. You were a tool to him...an object of pleasure. He degraded you...humbled you...oh, but then he spoiled it all by making a commander of you..."
"Y...yes..." Sinistrus said softly. It was if a cork were being undone, as if a great pressure were being released. She remembered. Oh, yes, she remembered now. The face of her father, kindly and loving even as his eyes burned with the passion of the true radical. Twisted in rage and shock as the knife went in, as his adjutant took control of everything he'd built, and destroyed the life that Lisandra might have had.

Why had she come here? Why had she disguised herself, passed unnoticed for so long? To free the Supremacist? After everything he'd done, after everything he'd made her do, why would she want to save him?
"Yes, that's it...that's it!" She began laughing, and crying, as her true purpose came back to her. She'd nearly remembered before, when she'd been subduing Leanne, but it had slipped away - yet no longer. There was only one she could serve, only one before whom she could kneel. Ever since that day, ever since she'd stumbled into her true master's nest, and been given her sacred mission. Now, there was only one more step. She just needed to wait for the Supremacist to do what he always did: destroy, and destroy, until there was nothing left. Until everyone would assume that there was nothing left.

For Lisandra was so encased in sin, now, that there was only one who could erase it. Only one who could consume it...
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Though having enhanced hearing along with her other senses would certainly have had its advantages, there were times when Sophie had to admit that she was glad not to have to deal with the extra set of difficulties it would bring. The shouting of the men as they surrounded her would have been ear-splitting. Moreover, the jeers and catcalls were not something she would have wanted to listen to in any great detail.

Her muscles screamed at her as she leapt between rays of flesh-searing heat, ducked skull-shattering punches, and landed cripplingly precise attacks of her own. She could feel it. She was slowing. Every dodge was less graceful than the last, every call closer. Her senses still gave her just as dizzyingly vast quantities of information as before, her mind processing it all with the power of a supercomputer - but her body couldn't keep up.

A man named Zane, a dour criminal with no taste for theatrical codenames, was the one who spotted it first. Like Sophie, he had a heightened capacity to process information, though his was not a side-effect of enhanced senses, but of enhanced speed. He was the first to notice that she was weakening. He was not really an evil man, and he didn't like the idea of doing what he was about to do, but he liked prison even less. He wanted out. And if that meant hurting a woman, then so be it.

He zipped right up to her, in a flash, shoving past another villain to do it. He wasn't even as fast as Celeritas, but he was certainly more than human. He feinted left, then moved right, in an effort to confuse her. It didn't work. She knew almost before he did where he would strike. Had she been fresher, she would have oriented herself such that his blow would have missed wildly, and even Zane would not have been able to counter, so sharp was her brain, so perfect her proprioception. But her lovely body was rather letting down the side, and she was far, far too slow.

"Unghh!" Sophie cried out, as Zane's accelerated fist struck her in the back. She stumbled forward, her calculations and predictions ruined. She was always three steps ahead - but she'd got the first step wrong. Struggling to recalculate, she dove wildly to try to get out of the ring of prisoners. Her newly earned reputation helped her here: she was, after all, the woman who had felled Dextrus single-handed. She just about managed to get past them, but she hit her shoulder hard against one of the men on the outside of the ring. Her progress arrested, she was struck again in the back, and cried out sharply with pain. A second blow to her head, dizzying the heroine as she stumbled forward. She tripped, having to roll to keep her balance. Had she been anyone else, her movements would have seemed respectably agile, but by her standards it was almost oafish clumsiness.

"Uuunnhhh..." Sophie landed on her back, wheezing, almost unable to breathe. Her muscles ached, her heart pounded from exhaustion. With shaky limbs, she forced herself up, groaning. Looking back at the convicts, she let out a quiet moan. She had barely thinned their ranks at all, and she could feel that she was almost at her limit. Something moved in the top of her field of vision and - with an absent-mindedness borne of sheer fatigue - she looked up.

She saw a rather startled looking man with short brown hair looking back at her, from the level above. She almost recognised him, but couldn't quite place his slightly plain face. Panting, and in a state of quite some agitation, Sophie ended up giving this man a very fierce look. Startled and not a little frightened of the red-haired maiden, he almost instinctively triggered his power - and showed why it was so much to Enhancegirl's disadvantage that she had not committed the face of Mindblow to memory.

A blue flash filled Sophie's vision, and it was as though the rest of the world were purged away in an instant.
"Ah...ah...?" the redhead gasped. It was like every neuron in her brain had fired at once, and then gone silent. She couldn't move, couldn't see, couldn't think. "I...I can't...I..." she mewed. Her long, moist legs were shaking, her arms quivering. She tried to lift them to do...something, but they just flopped down to her sides. Her head bobbed forward as though she were dozing off, her eyelids fluttering. "W-weak...I'm...oh...oooooohhh..."

She had no defence against Mindblow's power. All her intelligence and strength were stripped from her. She wavered, and felt almost as if she might float away - but she fell instead. As she tumbled to her knees, her head flopped from side to side, her red hair caressing her naked shoulders. She hit the ground, and partly turned as she did, so that she slumped down on her side, then rolled onto her back.
"N...no..." she mewed, the last vestiges of consciousness still clinging on. Her legs were haphazardly crossed, one gloved hand resting on her forehead as though she were a swooning Southern belle, the other resting on her pert bosom, as though she were trying to feel her own heartbeat. "Have to...keep...fighting..." Sophie whimpered. "Have to...have to..." Unable to remember her victories, only her defeat, she passed out, felled at last, with a long, slow sigh.

"Oh...shit!" Mindblow stuttered. He hadn't even really meant to do it, though Hammerblow didn't really understand the nuances of the situation, and patted him on the back.
"Good work!" he laughed. He had, after all, been overpowered by her earlier that very day, and was pleased to see himself avenged.
"Uh...thanks..." Gregory mumbled back.

They descended on her like vultures. Fortunately, the convicts had no intention of killing the slumbering, helpless maiden, but they were voracious all the same. They rolled her onto her back, tearing strips off their own clothes to tie her up - for who among them could resist the opportunity? Enthusiasm made up for skill, and they bound her fast. The tough fabric was lashed around her wrists, her elbows, below and between her breasts. Five, six pairs of hands grasped at her legs, her soft, naked legs - forcing them together, tying her so tightly that the improvised bonds made distinct impressions into her body. They actually fought over who would gag her, with the winner eventually thrusting a piece of his own sweat-drenched, stained uniform between her lips, muzzling the defenceless girl.

"What do we do with her now?" one of them asked. They were still a little nervous of her, like a hunter outsmarted and cornered by a tiger - only for that tiger suddenly to be bitten by a snake and collapse. Half of them were sure that she'd spring up at any moment to break a few more noses. The other half, however, were bolder - and had darker thoughts.
"God, would you look at her..." one of them half-thought. And indeed, what a sight: a beautiful, supple young woman - bound and helpless, soft and sweet and totally defenceless...

"Get back!" The threat was not merely a threat. A wave of light energy burst through the throng, throwing them apart, horribly burning the ones caught directly in it, and hurling aside those who were not strong enough to resist it. "Get the hell back, right now!" Catastrophe leapt down between the throng and the fallen redhead. The short, spiky haired Baltimoreon glowered at them, preparing another burst, reminding them why - before a string of defeats - he'd been considered a major new threat.

"What's your beef, Jason?" one of the lightly injured felons barked. "You know how long it's been since I've seen a woman in a dress?! Just let me get a closer -"
"No! The Catastrophe Gang took her down," Catastrophe replied, nodding respectfully at the sheepish Mindblow. "So, she's our hostage."
"Bullshit!" another shouted. "You just want her for yourself!"
"Fuck off, pal," Jason growled. "Just because you're all perverts doesn't mean I have to be! She's a valuable hostage."
"Nah, you're just a faggot or something," the first said. "You ain't so tough." Perhaps not, but neither was he. For, when Hammerblow jumped down from the level above, the convict was practically flattened.
"Don't use that word," he said, seemingly oblivious to his target's half-conscious state. "I don't like it."
"You tell 'em, bro," Jason said, smiling. Even he wasn't sure what his motives had been. To take charge of an ever-changing status quo? Genuinely to defend a young woman from these predators? Either way, he was orders of magnitude more confident with Hammerblow at his side.

But the others weren't backing off.. Some of them stayed simply because they were insulted by the suggestion that they should be cowed, others by rampant lust for the bound Enhancegirl. But there was one there whose motivation was very different.
"She is not yours, Catastrophe. She belongs to my master and so, for the moment, to me." He had reddish hair - young, but with a sort of affectedly noble bearing about him. Greyhand hadn't released him, since he had no loyalty to the Supremacist, but he'd managed to free himself from his cell in the confusion. He ignited the power in his hands, the power to create superheated plasma. "I am Plasmarr. Servant and adjutant to Hades. That girl belongs to my lord, and I will escape from here and deliver her."

The two stood face to face, Plasmarr and Catastrophe. Each certainly had enough power to kill the other - the question was simply which of the two of them was the faster. The question was deferred, however, when they heard the knocking.
"What was that?" Plasmarr said. His distaste for Catastrophe notwithstanding, he set infighting aside. Another great thump, and this time the convicts realised that it had come from outside, from the wall of the prison, so thick and reinforced that even with their powers restored to them they hadn't yet resorted to trying to break it.

Another thump, and it hit so hard this time that the entire section seemed to shake.
"Save the bickering over the girl for later," Plasmarr said, trying to assert authority. "These might be reinforcements. Prepare to -" Plasmarr wouldn't have finished the sentence in any case, for Jason was about to tell him where to stick it. But it didn't even come to that. The wall of Q-Section was torn apart by a witheringly powerful ray of sickly green energy which, having ripped the prison's walls open, kept going until it slammed right into Plasmarr. His powers were already active, and for this reason only did he avoid disintegration, but he was thrown back so hard that, when he hit the bars of Zane's cell, he bent them to the point of snapping. The convicts gasped, or groaned. They'd miraculously survived the Generator, then the astonishingly formidable Enhancegirl - now what was it?

"Oh f-f-f-...shit! D-did I k-kill him?" A figure stepped through the hole - tall, armoured in an elaborate metal suit with a crested horn, bristling with all sorts of formidable looking weapons. A rather nervous posture belied its intimidating appearance, but only slightly. Every footstep made an impact, and all the convicts had a feeling that the armoured figure was looking at them personally.
"Chill out, Sam," another man said. "He's still alive."

He hopped through the opening, fists clenched. He was wiry, of medium height, with dark hair, and a thoroughly pissed-off expression etched so deeply into his face that there was an impression of permanence. He was dressed in a white overcoat, grey boots, and had a mask covering most of his face, pointed like a devil's horns, and stark white. "Hey!" He called out to the convicts. "I've been here before, and I was kinda hopin' I'd never have to be again. I'd prefer to get out of here as soon as possible, so I'mma dispense with the dramatic introductions and such. Would you chumps just do me a favour and get back in your cells? Me and my crew have got bigger fish to fry than you guys."
"A-and you'd b-better back off! Or The Pretender is g-g-oing t-to..."
"Dude," the other man said, shaking his head. "There's a moment for débuting a cool name. That wasn't it." Someone tried to take advantage of their conversation. An electrokinetic, weaker by far than Philip Hayward, ran screaming forwards, throwing lightning in a sizzling arc towards the two newcomers. 'The Pretender' dodged his attack and knocked him senseless with an off-handed energy burst.
"See," his partner said, "that would have been a good moment."

Catastrophe stepped forward, a quizzical expression on his face. There was a ring of convicts between him and the newcomers, so he couldn't yet see them. But that voice sounded awfully familiar...
"Is that...?" The masked man had just seen through the throng of criminals, and caught sight of the young woman lying bound and helpless on the ground. The young, attractive, unconscious woman, surrounded by desperate criminals. "Well that just pisses me off!" He smacked his hand into his chest, and with a roar, was transformed. His hair stood on end like a porcupine's, his skin went ghostly-white, though pulsing with a blood-red aura every few seconds. "Righteous...anger...has to be righteous..." he growled to himself. "Stay in control...I'm the good guy...they're...evil! I...have to fight them!"

It was just as he was saying this that Catastrophe managed to push himself to the front. He froze. Not from fear, not exactly. Certainly this newcomer was a frightening sight - but that was not what chilled Jason's heart.
"Angermax?" he mumbled, softly. "...Maxie?"
"AAAAUUUGHGHHH!!" 'Maxie' didn't see him. He just plunged his fist into the ground - and unleashed a tidal wave of stone. Screaming, the convicts ran for whatever cover they could find, but they were hurled asunder by pillars of concrete, bursting out of the ground in a frantic rhythm. Catastrophe was tossed aside like a leaf in the wind. Others were thrown so high that they hit the roof of Q-Section.

Enhancegirl would certainly have been taken by the flood of stone - had it not been for a protector clad in metal. Just before Angermax let loose, the Pretender ignited the thrusters in his back. He burst forward so fast even Zane couldn't see him, his sharp feet tapping against the ground with the rapidity of a millipede's. The cortical stimulation his suit provided allowed Sam to time his next move well, and he snatched up the fallen redhead into his arms. Carried like a princess, the helpless girl dangled limply in Sam's arms. Her long, creamy legs gleamed in the harsh light of the prison's fixtures, her long hair flowed down in waves, her head fell back, drawing Sam's eye very much to her neck, her shoulders, her lovely chest...
"Holy crap, she's so hot!" He realised with some despondency that he had never been this close to such an attractive woman before.

It was fortunate that his cortical stimulation was so effective, for otherwise he too would have been caught in Angermax's wave of stone. But he managed to react in time. Needing a free hand, he threw Sophie over his shoulder - and by god, was that a memory he'd replay in his head a few times - raised his arm, and fired a burst of sheer concussive force. It burst through the wall of stone, but only for an instant. In that instant, however, the Pretender rocketed forward - Enhancegirl in tow - and managed to escape the carnage.

"HHHHUUUUAAAAGGHHHH!!" Angermax screamed again, just as the Pretender managed to get behind him, apparently on the verge of going totally berserk. "No! Focus...focus..." he said.
"Y-you okay?" Sam said to his partner, as skeletal hands laid Enhancegirl down by the hole he'd made in the prison wall.
"Mmh..." she mewed through her gag, unaware of her rescuer, and her soft sigh made Sam shiver.
"Yeah...I'm alright..." Max growled. He began walking forward, as if he didn't trust himself to move any faster.

Hammerblow, whose toughness had let him bear most of the brunt of the attack, didn't recognise his old ally. The mask and the difference in the appearance of his powers were all too much for him to connect the dots. He didn't see Angermax - he only saw that someone had hurt Catastrophe. He ran forward, charging like a bull at the man in white. Angermax barely paid him the slightest attention, throwing out a wave of pure seismic energy directly into Hammerblow's chest. He spun wildly into the air, falling back down a good thirty feet away, knocked unconscious with a single strike. It was only when he was down that Angermax recognised him.
"Liam?" he said, his aura wavering.

Many of the convicts on the upper level were still unscathed, and their eyes were very much drawn by that big hole in the wall that had just appeared. Many leapt down, and began running for it.
"Cowards!" Angermax roared, flattening several of them with twin shockwaves. But even he couldn't stop them all.
"Sh-shit!" Sam realised the mistake he'd made in being so imprecise with his entrance. He moved to block them, spreading his arms out wide.
"Outta the way, you Hades knockoff!" one of the prisoners, Flameball, shouted. He let out a stream of witheringly hot flame, and Sam instinctively threw his arms in front of his face. The flame engulfed him, enshrouding the armoured figure completely. The fire-wielder let up his attack, only for it to be followed by a vicious onslaught of energy particles from another convict, a man named Flechette.
"Aaahh, oh g-god, oh god...!" Sam cried out. As the smoke cleared, he was covering his head with his hands, practically cowering. "Aahh! Aahh...ahh...huh?" Suddenly, he stood up straight. "Oh. Oh, c-cool!" He was totally unharmed. Beneath his mask, he grinned, and fired a shockwave at the flame-thrower, breaking virtually every bone in his body. The others tried to run, but Sam wouldn't have it. "T-try to kill me, will you?!" He opened up a small slot in his left arm, and fired a withering volley of bullets at his aggressors. Metal tore through flesh, and screams of agony filled the air. Sam hadn't murdered them...but it would be a long time before any of them walked again.

One convict, however, didn't have to run. When Flameball and Flechette were attacking Pretender, he just lifted himself into the air, and with a cartoonish 'whoosh', went straight over Sam's head, out into the air, out into freedom!
"Ahahahaha!" he laughed. "See you later, fools! I, Leonard Barton, cannot be kept caged! This Hawk will always fly free!" He spun happily as he felt rain begin to splash against his face. He opened his eyes, looking over the ocean surrounding the island, felt as the rain fell up against him.

Fell up?
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Mmhhh...mmhhhhphhh?" Felicity whimpered, as she began to flutter into wakefulness. She remembered lying paralysed and helpless on the ground, the subject of humiliating defeat at the hands of Sinistrus. She remembered the chemical scent of halothane pulling her under...and in fact, she was still remembering it. "Mmhh...mhh?" The slim blonde shook her head slightly, and felt something soft wrapped around her mouth and nose, pressed in fairly tightly. Her mind swirled, but she realised what had been done to her. "Drugged...cloth...keeping me weak..." It was hard to think even something as simple as this.

She looked down at herself with half lidded eyes, and saw the extent of her captivity.
"Mhh..." she mewed in shame. Her wrists were bound behind her back, her upper arms fixed in place as well, and both by the same thing - thick, tough plasti-ties, the kind you'd use in a factory to seal a crate shut. Evidently Sinistrus had run out of tape, but the bonds were no less effective. Her naked, lightly-tanned legs were bound as well, her ankles tied together, and her supple thighs squeezed uncomfortably tightly, her legs tucked under her so that she looked like a humble penitent, kneeling in church.

"Mmh...mhhh...mmmmphhh..." Falcona found that she was not alone. Looking to her left, she saw a woman with green hair, light brown skin, and a sleepy, tearful expression. "Mhhh...mmmmhhhhphhh!" She too was bound, gagged with a piece of orange fabric thrust between her pillowy lips, plasti-ties squeezing her legs together, at the knees and at the ankles. She wriggled and writhed, but was clearly far too weak to escape. Her jumpsuit was torn, completely exposing her sandy-coloured, slowly shifting shoulders and her décolletage. Falcona realised now where the material for Leanne's gag - for it was she - had come from.

The green-haired lass saw that Falcona was awake, turned to her with desperate, pleading eyes.
"Plhhhff...plhhfff hhhllpp mhhh..." Leanne whimpered. She knew who Falcona was - a superhero, right? "She...has to save us..." But Falcona was just as helpless as the rest of them - Catherine lay against Leanne, still unconscious. Felicity did, however, have access to more information, and she scanned around for some sign of her captors. Sure enough, she saw Sinistrus standing a few feet away, apparently trying to access another cell. But she didn't see anyone else. Her husband was gone - and the Supremacist's cell was empty.
"No...oh Christ, no..." she thought, almost as tearful as Leanne.

Sinistrus noticed that her captives were awake. She turned to them, and smiled with the warm affection of a woman reunited with a lover after a long absence.
"I'm sorry for the roughness," she said, "but I couldn't take the chance of your attempting to escape."
"Whmphh...mmgghhmmphhh...!" Falcona complained, her sleepiness making it difficult to seem convincingly angry.
"Don't worry, Falcona," Sinistrus said. "The Supremacist...well, let's just say that I convinced him to ignore us. It wasn't difficult," she added, with a small laugh. "I know I've given you perfectly legitimate reason to fear me, but I won't hurt you. In fact, I'm going to help you...I'm going to help all of us."

"What's she...talking about?" Felicity thought. Seeing her confusion, Sinistrus came closer.
"Well, not me. Not really," Lisandra said. "My master." Anticipating further confusion, she said: "I don't mean the Supremacist." She laughed again, with a note of sadness in her voice. "A man of such rapaciousness..." She wrapped her arms around her chest, like she was defending herself. "All the vices of his sex made flesh: ambition, lust, egoism..."
"What the hell is she talking about?" Leanne thought. "Aren't they...working together?"
"I was here for months, in this place, this prison - planning, co-ordinating. Waiting for a moment where all the right elements would align. It was...the second month, I think, that I began to hear the whispers..."

Drugged and weak, Falcona was having trouble keeping up with what Lisandra was saying.
"I don't remember well...I keep forgetting, you see. Hayward - that scum - he keeps her unconscious, so she keeps slipping away from me. But she's so strong...even asleep I can hear her."
"Is...she insane?" Felicity looked into the cell that Sinistrus had been fiddling with. There was someone inside it, and she was unconscious, kept floating in some sort of liquid-filled tank. She was huge - about two metres tall. Felicity was very surprised at her imprisonment - Hayward was famous for not using such methods even with the most dangerous of his prisoners.
"I don't know," Sinistrus said, seemingly musing to herself, "why only I can hear her. I think it's because my powers are telepathic. There are so few of us, after all..."

It was Catherine's turn to awaken, and she did not wake up happy.
"Mmhh...mhhhphh?!" She came to tied and gagged, her wrists and ankles secured with the last of Sinistrus' tape. Her wrists were, in fact, taped to her thighs, keeping her from lifting her arms at all. "Mmmph? MMMPHHH!!" she screamed, aghast at finding herself, Falcona - and even her Leanne - at Sinistrus' mercy.
"Hush now," Sinistrus said, seeing Catherine's distress. "Don't be alarmed. I know it is frightening at first, but don't worry. You'll be redeemed. You can be good again. You want that, don't you?"
"Wh-whhmmphh?" Catherine was bewildered. "Redemption? What the hell is she talking about?"
"You've done bad things, haven't you? Terrible things. Things that make you want to claw your own eyes out when you think of them. That's right isn't it? That's why you were on Falcona's side." Catherine blinked. This was beginning to cut rather close to the bone. "I'm sure I've done worse than you...much worse. And yet," she said, stroking the faded pink of Catherine's hair, "even I'm going to be saved. I'm sure you can be too." She looked at Leanne. "Yes...you and the one for whom you care so deeply...joined in the consumption of your sin."

Falcona ignored Sinistrus' ramblings, finding herself actually a little disappointed that the elegant, deadly warrior had turned out to be yet another fanatic, for a 'cause' that Falcona only heard as rampant nonsense. Trying not to dwell on the likely dark fate of her beloved husband, she looked into the cell again, at that bizarrely tall woman. This time, however, doing so made Falcona's blood freeze in her veins. This time, the Sin Eater looked back.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Stay asleep...stay asleep!" the voice said, with a shrieking intensity. Why won't you just stay asleep?"
"I...I don't want to..." Sophie replied, confused.
"Want? Want?! You don't get to 'want' anything! You don't get to -"

"Hey, w-wake up, lady!" The incongruity of the last thing Sophie heard in her sleep, and the first thing she heard as she awoke was certainly jarring, but as she woke she was too dazed to appreciate it. Someone in grey was standing over her, saying something, but she didn't listen. Her scrambled mind drifted, and she focused instead on two people standing a few feet away.
"Are you quite out of your mind? You want to use me as an ambulance?" one said. "I hardly think that I should -"
"Quit whining, man. You're the only one of us who can fly." This was a woman's voice. "And hey, don't you want the Generator to be in your debt and shit?"
"Hmph. I suppose so." There was a rush of noise, and the man, whoever he was, was gone, apparently with Philip Hayward in tow.
"Smarmy-ass trust-funder," the woman muttered. "I swear, if he wasn't so pretty..."

"Wh...what the fuck did I wake up to?" Sophie thought. She blinked a few times, instinctively checking if she was tied up, and finding to her relief that she was not. She blinked a few times. It felt very strange, waking from the effects of Mindblow's powers, not like being drugged at all. If anything, it was more like being in one of Hades' stasis tanks. It was with such unpleasant thoughts in her mind that she recovered her senses, and saw the large figure in imposing, silvery, skeletal armour standing over her. "Aahhh...aahhhhhhh!!"

What started as a scream of terror turned into a battlecry halfway through. She leapt to her feet, at least some of her vigour restored by her slumber, grabbed the nearest blunt object she could find - a small piece of one of the bars to one of the cells - and threw it as hard as she could at the armoured figure. It bounced off harmlessly, but they visibly flinched.
"You as well?!" Sophie yelled. "It's not enough to have one grade-A shitstain mixed up in this?" She was shaking. She hadn't thought she'd have been this afraid. "You know what, Hades? Now I hope he gets out. 'Cause whatever alliance you've got going? It won't last. You'll kill each other, and I'll -" She looked again. "Shorter than before...head's a different shape...way more weapons...? Okay," she thought, wishing for a better word than 'sheepish', "I'm dumb." She changed tack.
"Wh-what the hell are y-you talking about, l-lady?! I'm not H...H...Hades!"
"Hey, I'm sorry, I totally mistook you for someone else." Armour or no armour, Sophie detected an intensely nervous disposition, and smiled consolingly. "You saved me, didn't you? Thank you so much - I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't showed up." She shivered. "Actually, maybe I do know. What's your name, man? Or, wait, are you even a dude?"
"H...I...h-uh...?" Being shouted at, threatened, then sweetly smiled at and graciously thanked by the gorgeous young woman he had cradled in his arms was a little much for Sam. Just as Sophie was about to think he was going to faint or something, she heard a laugh from behind her.
"Boy, those elocution lessons sure are working, aren't they?"

Sophie found herself confronted with a somewhat familiar face. She was strong-looking, dirty-blonde, in an armless, blue outfit composed of thick, form-fitting leather. Her exposed arms were fairly muscular, and she had a kind of wry smile etched up one side of her face. With her enhanced senses, Sophie could also see small particles of cocaine in her nostrils.
"Hydrocita?"
"The one and only, Enhancegirl," the heroine replied. "Some of the cons say you took out Dextrus all by yourself. Not bad, sister." She patted Sophie on the shoulder. "Me and the crew thought we'd do the rest of the clean-up for you."
"The crew?" Sophie replied. She bristled a little in Farah's presence. The last time they'd met, she'd made an earnest attempt to kill Sophie's girlfriend. But then she realised what her presence might mean: "You mean you're back with the Pauldron?" Her face lit up at the prospect of Mariko's presence. However, Farah's friendly expression shifted into undisguised disdain.
"No, girlie. I roll with a different crew now. The Hades knock-off there -"
"Hey!"
"He goes by 'the Pretender'." Sophie realised who he was: Mariko had mentioned the military experiment that Askancepoint and Fahrenheit had encountered - clearly this was him. "If you want to know who to blame for the name..." She jutted her chin forward in the direction of the cells. Standing guard over them, and ensuring that Q-Section would produce no further rebellion, was the mighty Angermax, assisted by a few of the guards who had returned to help. Sophie beamed. She'd met Angermax before: he'd been instrumental in saving her, Spectra and Insyte from being sold into slavery by Madam Black. That he was now, apparently, a superhero was beyond appropriate. Sophie was delighted that he had turned over a new leaf like this.

Catastrophe was not quite so sure about his feelings on the subject. As Sophie had slept, he and his old partner had had a little heart to heart:
"So, what, you're a cape now?" Max didn't answer. "Seriously? You're a super-powered bank robber, not a goody-two-shoes 'hero'!"
"I guess ever since I help save you guys and those heroines from Hypnotra, I...I kind of got a taste for being the good guy. I like it. It even makes me stronger! Righteous anger kicks my power way up."
"Oh well, good for you," Jason huffed.
"Oh, by the way," Max said, "we never robbed a bank, man," Max replied. "Never successfully." He looked at Jason with a wistful expression.
"We...? Oh, yeah. We never did, did we?" He laughed mirthlessly, after which there was silence for about a minute. "They pay you?"
"Yeah, actually. Our, uh, manager guy managed to swing a contract with the state. It's not a lot, since I'm on parole but...I got my own place."
"Awesome," Jason said, before remembering he was angry. He turned away. His face was bleeding from Angermax's attack.
"I'm sorry I hurt you, man," Max said. "I didn't see you. I just - look, what's so bad about me being a hero? I mean, money's money, isn't it?" He looked hurt.
"Oh, god!" Mindblow was sitting further back, listening. "He's not angry because you're a cape. He's angry because you're stronger than he is. Geez. I thought that was obvious. Was that not obvious?" He addressed this to Hammerblow and Miles.
"No," Hammerblow said, simply.
"I don't care," Miles replied.

"Is that true?" Max asked. "Is that why you're pissed?" Jason growled.
"Fine, yes! I'm getting sick of everybody being able to kick my ass! Next thing you know it's gonna turn out that fucking Big Shot is Hades or something!"
"So it's just about being a tough guy?" Max asked. "Why be a criminal, then? Superheroes do way more fighting, and villains spend half their time in jail, or getting their asses handed to them by the big guns. Hell, why don't you join up with us? I think I could persuade Julian to let'cha -"
"No! No!" Jason stood up, grabbed the bars, shoved his face through them as far as he could. "I don't want to be some tights-wearing, stuck up cape, Maxie! I want to...I want to be like Flash-Fist and - and Terror-Gator and the real badass villains, from when we were kids! Before all these West-Coast pervs started coming out of the woodwork, when a - a supervillain was a guy who stood his ground and didn't take shit from nobody! Someone you respected! Is that so much to fucking ask?!"
"Jason, dude..."
"No, screw you, 'dude'!" Jason was incandescent with rage. How dare Max excel him? How dare Max be stronger, more successful, happier? He was the leader! He was the one who was supposed to lead them to success. And yes, they could share in his glory - Max most of all - but it should have been his glory they were sharing in. "I mean, what's this big epi...epe...uh, epiphany you had, anyway?! If you thought it was so stupid being a villain, why the fuck did you join the Catastrophe Gang in the first place?!"

Jason did and didn't feel Max's response to his question. He certainly felt something - it was like he'd just leapt into ice-cold water. It did not feel like what it was - that being Max reaching out, and very gently stroking his cheek, with the forefinger and middle finger of his left hand.
"You know why."

This conversation had concluded just as Enhancegirl and Hydrocita were reacquainting. Though Jason was stunned, Enhancegirl was pumped. Angermax, this Pretender person, and now Hydrocita? Sophie felt a new hope rising within her. No, they weren't the Pauldron, but they were powerful. As skilled as she and Falcona were, they were by no means heavy-hitters. In terms of raw strength, Enhancegirl had been the physical inferior of virtually everyone she'd fought that day, and she was starting to become frustrated by her lack of 'oomph'. Angermax and Hydrocita, and presumably Pretender as well, had oomph-a-plenty.
"Alright," Sophie said. "So, what's our plan for the Supremacist?" Hydrocita blinked. Pretender made a sound most nearly approximated by the word 'yipe'.
"The Supremacist? Oh, shit, is he mixed up in this too?"
"You...didn't know?" Sophie found her confidence waning. They had seemed pretty relaxed. She'd thought it was because of their confidence in their abilities - but it was just out of ignorance? A thought occurred to her. "Hydrocita, who's the leader of your group?"
"I am, obviously. And shit, does it feel good to be in charge!" A stuttering military experiment, and a former criminal - with a drugged up ex-Pauldronian leading the pack.
"Well...um...alright then," Sophie mumbled. "Couldn't have been the Pauldron showing up...or the Congress...or even the L.A-dies..." She shook her head. "Oh man, I really hope Falcona managed to -"

There was a sound. A terrible, horrible sound. To anyone in that section - to anyone on the entire island - under the age of twenty-five, it was one associated with abject terror. An electronic shriek, and then a boum - and the entire roof of the prison was torn off with one flick of a deep blue tendril of energy.
"Oh no..." Sophie moaned. "No, no, no, no...!" Such was the sentiment of many who saw the man slowly rising above them. But only for Sophie did horror mix with the sting of wasted effort. "Oh god...Falcona and Caitiff!"
"I-is th-that him?" Pretender stammered. "Is that the Supremacist?"
"Yeah," Hydrocita replied. "That's him." To Sam's astonishment, she was grinning.

"I don't want to say 'it's a new day'," the Supremacist called out, swathed in a shimmering robe of royal blue. "It's an old day really. The same day. The same day it's always been: the day where us - the strong - rule the weak, and eliminate the useless. I s'pose the only difference between yesterday and today is that now it's time for us to stop pretending." Two flanked him in the air - Generalissimo and Five-Star, two of his strongest lieutenants. Both had similar powers - flight and great strength and durability, but it was thanks to Generalissimo, who could augment energy that travelled through him, that the Supremacist's speech was audible to so many.

Martin breathed in and out, deeply, enjoying his restored youth and his restored power. He felt it around him and through him, suffusing every pore of him. It felt...beautiful. Any old man returned to health and strength would have felt the same, but for Martin it was different. The dream was not dead. His world could still become real.
"Any superhuman, now matter how you got your powers, no matter where you came from," he said, "is welcome at my side. Even if you were one of my jailers, even if you're a superhero - even if you've personally fought me, and you're not dead. Everyone is welcome." He looked down into Q-Section. Saw a weird looking guy in armour. He seemed tough, Martin thought, and nodded sagely. He saw Hydrocita, and a glimmer of worry entered his mind. No match for him, of course, but not one lightly to be dismissed. He saw some guy in white with a wispy aura around him. "We'll put a pin in that one."

And then he saw the other superhuman woman in Q-Section. A certain young lady in a gold dress and red mask. A certain young lady who had foiled his plans and left him totally powerless for nearly a year. A certain young lady whose face he had never forgotten.
"Uh, yeah, so you know how I just said that anyone was welcome? Small amendment to that. Everyone is welcome except the Titan - obviously - as well as..." He clenched his fist. "Commandante Cantankerous -" At the mention of this name, Five-Star and Generalissimo growled. " - And a certain little lady who goes by the name Enhancegirl." He looked at her. He knew she'd be looking back. "G'day, sweetie. How nice of you to -"
"AAAARRRGGHHHH!!"

Alarmed, Martin turned his head to see that Five Star had a very large hole in his chest.
"B-boss...?" he mumbled, before tumbling to the ground. He was dead. Looking down, he saw that the weirdo in the armour had opened a large panel in his chest. Everyone was looking at him.
"Uh...h-had we not started?" he said. "I th-thought we'd s-started!"
"Well we have now, stud," Hydrocita said. "Come on, Pariahs! Let's fuck this guy up!" Grinning wildly, Hydrocita launched herself up into the air on a great aquatic pillar.
"Inspiring," Angermax muttered. "Now...get mad...he's a murderer...a racist, wannabe dictator."
"I hear he's a homophobe too!" Mindblow piped up.
"Really? Ah, good, that helps," Max said, grinning. "Urrrrrrrrrr-AAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHH!!" His skin blazed white, his eyes turned blood-red beneath his mask, and Angermax's power came to him in full. He couldn't fly, but he still rocketed into battle, slamming his fists into the ground, and hurtling forward with his seismic powers.
"Face it, Jason," Mindblow said, as he watched his former ally leap into the fray, "without us he's managed to get pretty cool."
"No," Jason said with equal parts affection and resentment, "he's always been pretty fuckin' cool..."

"Take her," Martin said, quite casually, to Generalissimo. "The blonde, I mean."
"Yes, sir!" he howled, and threw himself down in a dizzying parabola, with every intention of knocking her head off. He didn't get far, however. The rain rushed in a great torrent towards its master, before she turned it into a whirling buzzsaw of water, and hurled it at Generalissimo.
"That will never work against...Generalissimo!" the villain laughed, tearing his jumpsuit open to reveal a muscled chest and a virile carpet of hair. And indeed, the buzzsaw struck him, but did not cut him, grinding against his skin to no apparent effect.
"Hey, man," Hydrocita said, arms akimbo, "never say never." With a flash of her eyes, the buzzsaw shifted, becoming not one saw, but two - grinding in different directions.
"What the - auuughhhh!!" Generalissimo cried out. The buzzsaws, spinning at such high pressure and speed in opposite directions, worked like a crank, pulling open Generalissimo's hyper-tough skin. He was badly wounded, and tried to fall back, but Hydrocita was having none of it. She pulled the same trick on his shoulders, leaving deep gashes, before grabbing him by the ankle with a water-tendril, and hurling him bodyily into the cold sea surrounding the prison.

The Supremacist had to admit he was surprised. Seeing Hydrocita deal so brutally with Generalissimo, and seeing Five-Star outright killed - well, it was unusual to see superheroes behaving in this way.
"I'm impressed," the Supremacist said, as Hydrocita squared off with him, "normally you capes don't have the balls to do what needs doing. Sure you wouldn't be better off at my side?"
"You know, I'd consider it..." Hydrocita said, "but that accent...I just can't take it. 'Oi, Bruce! I'm gonna, take over the world! Crikey!'"
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," Martin said. "But, sweetheart, y'don't actually think you can beat me, do you?"
"Normally? Probably not," Hydrocita said. "But it's pouring with rain...and we're surrounded by the ocean." She flexed her biceps. "You're on my turf, shitheel!" From all sides, water - it flowed from the sky, from the pipes of the prison, and from the ocean itself. All to Hydrocita, all in a great mass. She surrounded herself with it, compressed it, focused it, not relenting for an instant.

Actually concerned, the Supremacist accessed his own power, forming a wedge shaped barrier around himself. When the attack came - and it certainly did come - it hit Martin with unbelievable force. She could have destroyed a city block with just the first wave. In his first battle with his restored powers, the Supremacist realised he was being tested far more than he would have liked. But - he was still the Supremacist.

Keeping the barrier up, he formed in his mind two propellers, exactly like one would find on a warship. True to their function, they cut through Hydrocita's attacks with ease, threatening the heroine herself. But she was too fast, and burst away from Martin's attack. She let off another high-pressure cannonade, and at the same time focused drawing the spent water back to herself, with the Supremacist between her and it.
"Brilliant!" he laughed, as he was struck from both sides. There was a rush of foam obscuring him, and Hydrocita backed off, fearing that she'd just made a counter-attack easier. But when he became clear again, he was just floating there, applauding. "You really are good! I mean, shit, you're one tough missy!" Martin replied. "Problem is, darling...I'm the Supremacist."

Something began to emerge from him - like a royal blue, glowing pair of bladed wings. Smiling wickedly, he unfolded them, and expanded them...and expanded them. Hydrocita gaped. By the time he'd finished, his construct had to be a mile wide from tip to tip.
"Hydrocita, there's something you gotta understand about me," Martin said. "You're always on my turf."


Below, the battle was going a little more chaotically. Rumble-Man and Nifelheim had arrived, and the two powerful, though inexperienced heroes, were having quite a time with them.
"Rrggghhhh!!" Nifelheim was harrying Angermax with bullets of ice, his seismic aura the only protecting him from getting shredded. He would smash her frozen body to pieces over and over with his powers, but she would just reform. While his frustration was certainly powering his abilities well enough, it wasn't helping him to win.
"You can't destroy me, hero!" The icy warrior-woman shrieked. "I will chill your heart until -"
"Hey, Lady Frigid!" The Supremacist's servant turned her head, filled with umbrage, towards the cells containing the rest of the Catastrophe Gang. More to the point, she turned to the cell containing Mindblow. "Say cheese!" A blue flash travelled directly into Nifelheim's eyes. She blinked a few times... and then collapsed unconscious on her back. Angermax glared at Mindblow, and he shrieked, but the fearsome warrior was merely pausing to give him a thumbs up.

Ferro-Mag was giving Pretender a much harder time. This was not because he was more powerful than Nifelheim - he wasn't - but he did, alas, have the power to control metal. As in, the substance Sam was encased in.
"D-damn it!" Sam growled, as yet another attack went wide, his arm yanked to the side at the last moment. His armour contained only trace amounts of ferromagnetic metals, but it was enough. He was hurled back, landing hard, what little skill he'd developed completely failing him.

"You look big," Ferro-Mag said, "but you sound like a little boy."
"F-f-fuck you!" Sam replied. "Just 'cause y-you've got a type advantage...!" He opened up a panel in his back, and launched out a small missile, which instantly homed in on Ferro-Mag.
"Whoa!" The villain was surprised at the extent of Pretender's arsenal - but he wasn't unprepared. The missile had plenty of metal inside it for him to work with, so Ferro-Mag grabbed it, turned it around, and slammed it into the one who had fired it.
"Oh n-" The missile slammed into his chest, producing a terrific explosion.
"Pretender!" Enhancegirl screamed, sure that he'd been killed. She ran forward to intervene, but then saw something that made her stop in her tracks. "Now that is clever..."

As the dust and debris cleared, the armoured figure of the Pretender stumbled to his feet.
"Unnhhh..." he groaned. He had survived, though his armour was dented. "You'll get it for that!" Clunkily, almost robotically, Pretender ran towards Ferro-Mag, firing a cornucopia of weaponry at his enemy. But the magnet-wielder easily blocked or evaded all of these until, finally losing his patience, he seized the Pretender by the throat with his powers, and hauled him in.
"Damn it!" Pretender cried out, held up like he was being crucified.
"I'm bored of this," Ferro-Mag growled. "I'm an infiltration specialist, not a...a...gladiator! This ends now." Punctuating his remark, he reached out with his powers to the centre of the Pretender's armour.
"No! Don't!" Pretender protested. It seemed as if his speakers were damaged, because his voice now came out tinny and flat. Even his scream came out strangled and odd as Ferro-Mag used his powers to tear the armour completely open.
"Huh?" Ferro-Mag wondered if he'd had the right idea about whom he was fighting. "Are you...a robot?"
"N-no, d-dumbass," said a voice from behind him. Ferro-Mag turned, and found himself looking at a lanky, awkward young man, about the same age as Sophie. "I'm the P-Pretender!" Before the villain could react, Sam punched him hard in the face. He was certainly much weaker outside of his armour - but he was still a superhuman. Ferro-Mag went flying, severely concussed.

"Nice move!" Sophie said, jogging towards the victorious Pretender. "You can control the armour remotely?"
"Y-yeah," Sam said. He was trying to get the armour to stand up by itself, and he was just about managing it, but it appeared to take incredibly intense concentration, like he was trying to do a hard trigonometry problem. "It's...not as useful as it s-s-sounds," he added. "It's w-w-weaker without me in it - like way weaker. Still p-pretty cool, right?" He tried giving Sophie a sly smile, but he just looked sort of...deranged.
"For...sure," Sophie said. As Sam put himself back inside, Sophie decided that this was the moment for her to make her exit. Not to retreat totally - but to look for Falcona and Caitiff. Trying to pickup Falcona's scent, she realised that this was not in fact the right time to make her search - as Hydrocita crashed into the ruins of Q-Section.
"Urrghhh..." she groaned, hauling herself up. She was bruised, but not seriously injured. Her face was twisted with rage, however. She sniffed, rubbing her slightly reddened nostrils. Angermax rushed to help her up.
"Are you alright?" he growled. It was difficult to talk at all in his transformed state.
"Okay," she said, "I may have overestimated myself a little..."

The Supremacist descended slowly after her.
"Please stop fighting me, Hydrocita," he said, "with your power, you could be the next Dextrus, for cryin' out loud!"
"Oh, please," Farah spat. "Like that's going to be tempting!" Martin's patronising smile flickered.
"Well, if I have to take the time to convince you..."

He focused for a moment, and suddenly they were all of them bathed in a royal blue light. Looking up, Enhancegirl saw to her horror that the Supremacist had constructed a sort of...dome of energy around the prison.
"He doesn't want anyone getting out..." Sophie thought. "What the hell is he gonna do?" Farah saw too, but didn't allow herself to be afraid.
"Pariahs, get him!"
"What? Oh, r-right!" Sam's armour was healing around him, but was still damaged. As he fumbled around for a weapon to use, the Supremacist off-handedly defeated him with a construct shaped like a fan.
"Lightweight."

Angermax was next. He slammed his hands into the ground, spearing the Supremacist with pillars of concrete, but they crumbled against his shields. He directly shot his seismic power into him, but the shield twisted into a complex ribbon of energy, and Max's attack was redirected harmlessly around it. The villain tired of being creative, and just seized Max by the throat, and hurled him away.

"I'm an idiot," Sophie thought. "This isn't someone I can fight. There is nothing I can do. I'm, like, physically incapable of hurting him!" She started running towards him. "Seriously. Live to fight another day. This is dumb!" She increased her speed. "Why am I doing this?" She weaved between snakelike tendrils, bands and spears of blue that tried to stop her, aware that the slightest misstep could mean death. "Wow, I really am doing this aren't I?"

As cascades of water tried in vain to quell and oppose the shimmering blue constructs of the Supremacist's mind, Sophie leapt between them, always trying to get closer and closer to the eye of the storm. She was fast - incredibly fast for someone without superhuman speed - and agile as a fly. But all Martin had to do was think - and even Enhancegirl was not faster than thought.
"NO!" Sophie cried out, as a shimmering net manifested in front of her, instantly seizing her. As soon as she was in its grasp, the net shifted, becoming thick, blue chains that wrapped around Sophie's gorgeous, slinky body. She was caught.

"No! Unnhhh! Noooooo!!" Sophie cried, as the chains flowed freely over her, forcing her arms behind her back, binding them together, and forcing them against her spine. Her perky breasts were squeezed tightly by the chains around her chest, and a cross-hatched pattern ran over, down and even between her long, moist legs, completely chaining her up. "Get off me you - MMMNNNMMMPHHHH!!" Her mouth was not spared. Chains thrust themselves over her lips, muzzling her, practically silencing her completely. "Mph! MMMMPHHHH!!" the captive redhead screamed, as she was slowly pulled towards her captor.

"I've been waiting a long time for this," Martin said. He focused all his attention on the wriggling damsel floating before him, allowing his powers to do the work in seeing off Hydrocita. "I thought when I saw you again, you jumped up little tart, I'd just break your pretty neck." Sophie shuddered as she saw him quite obviously admiring her chest. "But now...well, I'm a young man again. And here's this lovely little thing all chained up in front of me...I'm beginning to get some different ideas. Maybe I'll snap your neck after I run out."

And then, a rather strange look came over him. A kind of bemused shock. He looked up, at the dome he'd created.
"But that's impossible," he said. "I put nearly half my power into - AAHHH!!" He dropped Sophie, who fell in a chained up bundle to the ground, and staggered back. No-one but Sophie really paid this very much attention, because it was just at this moment that the dome shattered into royal blue splinters with an ear-shattering 'boom', so loud that over the water, windows shattered in Seacouver's docks.

When the dome was gone, all that was left was a fading orange light, like someone had just let off a bomb, and a man. A man, floating - flying - in the air. A sallow, thin man, with deathly pale skin, a flicknife grin, and a billowing, black overcoat. A man with the power of a nuclear inferno at his fingertips. Hydrocita pumped her fist in delight: the fourth Pariah was back.
"Martin! As I live and breathe!" Ivan Nazarov shouted down from his atomic perch. "Oh, this is going to be a very good day!"
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DrDominator9
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Another terrific chapter! So much fun action. Mindblow taking out Enhancegirl..great scene.
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Damselbinder

"Mmmphh...?" Spectra moaned quietly as she woke, heavily, from her enforced slumber. She felt odd, like the various parts of her tall body didn't quite fit together. She'd move a shoulder and it would feel like a creaky door, or try to flex her legs, and it was like they were hinged with a rusty iron joint. She shook her head to throw off the feeling, but it just made the spot where she'd been struck even more painful. This pain did, at least, jar Mariko into further wakefulness, and after a few moments her nervous system patched things up with her brain, and the couple were back to living at least relatively amicably. It was when Mariko realised that her wrists and ankles were shackled that she grew alarmed. It was when she realised she was gagged that she grew distressed.

It was when Spectra realised that she was blindfolded that she grew truly aghast.
"MMMMMPHHH!!" the slender heroine screamed, finding a thick cloth tied over her eyes, not only robbing her of her sight, but also of her powers. "MMM-NNNNNMMPPPHHH!!" Of course, Mariko tried to pull her blindfold off, but she was, as she'd already found, shackled. One single metal cuff bound her wrists with painful tightness, a pair of cuffs connected by a straight, iron bar bound her upper arms and totally prevented her from moving them, while thin chains were crossed between her perky breasts, further binding her arms, and essentially making movement of her upper body impossible.

Her breathtakingly long legs were bound at the ankles with hinge-cuffs, with a chain connecting them to another pair of hinge-cuffs binding her just above her knees.
"Why is this happening? These are policemen...why have they bound me like this?!" Mariko thrashed around on the floor, the gorgeous heroine totally restrained: muzzled, shackled, and blindfolded. "Mmph! Mmm-mmmphh! Hrrrrrr-MMMMPPPHHHH!!" Every time she tried to move heaped further humiliations upon herself. Between the twin cloths of her gag and her blindfold, Mariko blushed at the sensation of her helplessness.

"Welcome back to the land of the living." Mariko heard a voice from above her. "Fucking super..."
"Mmph!" Mariko gasped, as she felt herself shoved in the side, a boot-clad foot rolling her onto her back. "Mm? Mm-mmphh?!" She shook her head from side to side, desperately trying to dislodge the blindfold that restrained her powers.
"Hey!" Mariko stopped struggling when she heard the exclamation, for it had been in Nova's voice. "I said you could restrain her, I didn't say you could hurt her." Mariko was confused in the extreme by this.
"She...let them do this to me?"
"You think this makes up for it?" Mariko didn't recognise this voice, but it was in fact Cory, the CAEP who had started this whole mess. His brow was dripping with sweat, his blonde hair greasy, matted, his thin lips shaking. "You think this makes up for what happened?!"

Nova certainly had it within her power to end the situation there and then. She could have flattened every single police officer in the room with two bursts, easily blocking their bullets in the meantime. But she didn't. She couldn't. These were police - enforcers of the law like herself. She may not have worn their uniform, but she was no better than they were, she thought. She couldn't bring herself to just clobber them, not unless it was absolutely necessary. So, she stalled for time, trying to just let their heads cool.
"Cory," she said, trying not to sound too soothing, for fear that he would react violently against attempts to calm him, "what are you trying to get out of this situation?" Cory looked down for a moment, but a jolt of anger shot through him and his focus was restored.
"I want to even the score. I want it to be you who dies instead of us!" He still had his weapon trained on Nova. Some of the other officers were not going along with him, but most were with Cory against Nova, still perhaps not quite understanding, or just following a sort of tribal instinct of solidarity. "We're sick of dying by the wayside while you get all the glory!"

Still, nobody in the room was happy about the situation - nobody except Graves, the man who'd knocked Mariko out and - when offered the chance - eagerly shackled the thinly-clad beauty. He couldn't keep the smile off his face. Leaning down, he spoked in sufficiently hushed tones that only Mariko could hear.
"That suit...shit, it might as well be silver paint for all it covers..." he said. Mariko could almost feel his eyes burning into her long, willowy body. "You super-chicks are always dressing like that...and I think I know why. 'Cause you and your kind are so fucking arrogant. You just love showing off..." Mariko almost shuddered in reaction to this man's foul chauvinism. She tried to rationalise the situation, but she couldn't. She didn't understand why anyone was doing what they were doing - it was a kind of helplessness all its own, in a way. She wasn't lying at the feet of a victorious enemy - she'd been taken hostage by a foe quite unconcerned with her personally. It was acutely frustrating.

"Cory, I don't -" Sara too was frustrated with what was happening, and only slightly more in control of things. "What do you actually want?"
"They say she didn't feel any pain," he replied. Or was it a reply? Had he even heard what Sara had said? "That that kid...that child killed her so quickly that she couldn't have felt pain. Well I want you to feel it for her!"
"Who? What are you talking about?" Nova had one recourse besides violence or negotiation. She could click a button on her green-gold bracelet that would send an emergency signal to every other member of the Pauldron. But she chose not to. Not yet.
"His fiancée." Fuller, one of the officers who wasn't on Cory's side, said this. "She was one of the officers those kids killed today."

Sara felt her stomach tighten. There was nothing like grief to make someone stop caring about the consequences of their actions. Mariko, hearing, was genuinely relieved: now it actually sort of made sense.
"No! No, fuck you, this isn't just about her. It's about us! It's always us!" Cory shouted. "We're always the ones who die. We're nothing to people like you."
"But that's why superheroes exist, isn't it?" Nova implored. "To stop you from having to die like your fiancée did. We're just...just specialists, that's all. We deal with the things you couldn't expect anyone else to. It's like if someone asked you guys to fight a fire - of course you'd fail. It's no different to that."
"Fires don't kill cops for fun," Cory spat. "But it's more than that. You guys...you're a band-aid! Hades was right." He saw Nova's fists clench. "I know he's evil, but that doesn't mean he was wrong. You...people like you...you know the best thing that ever happened to the superhero community?" Nova didn't reply. "When local municipalities started counting superhero collars in their arrest records."

As Cory spoke, Mariko wriggled and shook her body on the ground, trying to catch the edge of the blindfold on something, anything.
"He's right!" This was Graves. He stood up from the silver-clad heroine he'd been admiring, and threw his hat into the ring. "All politicians care about is getting good stats. Letting you guys run around, sweep up the street-level shit, beefs up the stat sheets like you wouldn't fucking believe."
"What's your point?" Nova said.
"The point is fewer cops, since funding one team of state-heroes is a lot cheaper than a whole fucking police precinct," Cory said. "The point is the ones who are there get shitty, cheap equipment. The point is investigative units getting shut down. The point is the public are all happy with the guys and girls in capes and tights, while real, high-level crime goes on just fine, and when we do go up against superhumans, even CAEPs are so badly equipped that we get slaughtered! That Judy gets -" He couldn't go on.
"Think about what this is gonna mean for you," Nova said, trying to get him away from ideology, and back to the real, the personal. "Your career over. Maybe even jail time. So far no-one's been hurt: you can walk away from this."
"Don't listen to her!" Graves shot back. "They're always the ones getting the attention - now it's our turn!"
"Shut up!" Cory growled back. "Just...just let me think..."
"I know you're angry," Nova said, sensing an opening, "I know you're grieving. But...alright, Cory, I'm going to level with you."

She took a step towards him, his pistol almost pressed right up to her forehead now.
"Wh-what are you doing?" Cory stammered.
"I could have stopped this anytime I liked." Nova fixed him with a cold stare from her warmly brown eyes. "Even right here, even with that gun right up to my head, you're not actually any threat to me, physically. I could blast you all to pieces with a thought. But I haven't. I let you talk, and I let you chain up my friend, because I sympathise with you. You lost someone precious to you - I'm sure I'd go nuts if that happened to me. And yeah, I agree, we get too much attention and too much credit. That's...that's why I joined Im...why I joined the Pauldron." She couldn't keep the warmth from her voice as she said this. "To be part of something greater - like you are. You're a police officer, and that's something to take pride in." She could see his expression wavering. It was working.

"Our leader, Imperion..." she went on, unable to stop her voice from softening when she spoke his name, "he said something once about why we're called 'The Pauldron'. Not 'The Armour' or 'The Shield'. Just a small piece of armour, to cover up a little part of the body. We're not better than you." Cory looked at her. His gun lowered slightly.

"Bullshit," he said, with a withering scowl.
"What?"
"You're not a pauldron. You're a crown. Shiny...expensive...and pointless!" For a moment, Nova thought she'd have to subdue him, but his exclamation was not one preceding attack, but preceding a frustrated surrender. He knew how stupid he was being, he knew how little his grief-provoked temper tantrum would get him. Cognizant of the fact that he was taking out his rage on the wrong target, he was about to disarm himself. At the last moment, Nova realised this, and allowed him to surrender.

But then, Nova had the benefit of being able to see. Lying blindfolded on the floor, Mariko had no such advantage - she only heard what Cory was saying. Fearing for her team-mate's life, she made one last, desperate thrash to loosen her blindfold. Had she been anyone else, the attempt would have been considered a failure, since she had not liberated her sight. But she had for an instant - just for an instant - let a glimmer of light peek underneath the blinding cloth.

"Hey, what are you - auughh!" Having blinded Mariko with darkness, Graves was now blinded with light. They all were, even Nova, as Spectra used her powers in the most straightforward way possible. As they reeled, Mariko sliced herself free from her chains, cutting through the reinforced steel as though it were butter. Rising to her full, elegant height, she took stock of all those about her. She was no Enhancegirl in terms of analytical power, but she was an experienced combatant - and much stronger than her lover. With one quick look, and a lordly flourish, she sent lances of light through the pistols of every single police officer in the room, be they ally or enemy, making sure to keep the temperature of her attacks as low as possible to avoid detonating the gunpowder in their bullets.

An instant later, just as the others were beginning to recover their sight, Mariko blasted Graves in the chest, and with one of her long, slender legs, kicked Cory hard in the side of the head, sending him sprawling, tasting the fruits of Sophie's few lessons to her partner in physical combat.
"You are under arrest," Spectra spoke - even spake - grandly, with not a little wrath in her voice for the indignity of her bondage. "You are - and I assure you, I use this word only for legal purposes - suspected of false imprisonment, assaulting a licensed law-enforcer, and...er, brandishment of a deadly weapon." No longer embarrassed by her capture since she had so artfully freed herself and resolved the situation, she shook her head at this foolish man, a slight smirk on her face. She looked towards her shorter ally, nodding at her with respect for having kept the situation calm for so long. But she didn't see respect back, at least not at first. Yet, surely she had to be wrong.

It didn't make sense for Nova to be looking at Mariko like that. It didn't make sense for her to be seething with rage.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Thirteen years earlier...

"Your focus is poor!" The criticism was complemented with a vicious backhand that sent the stick-thin fifteen year-old flying. The man did not have superhuman strength, but he was a titan compared with this floppy-haired, sallow boy.
"Aauugghhh!" Ivan cried out, bleeding from the mouth. He tried to do as he'd been taught, to control it, to restrain his budding power, and let fly a respectably powerful jet of atomic flame at his foe.
"Not enough!" A sphere of pressurised air burst through the centre of Ivan's attack, cutting it apart like Robin Hood splitting his opponent's arrow. Cycloneman - born in an age where codenames were meant to be pretty utilitarian - shook his head. "You are still not obeying my instruction." He swept his hand to the side, and a burst of air struck at him. But Ivan was quick on his feet, and raised himself into the air, avoiding the attack.

"I'm faster than you give me credit for," Ivan growled. "And actually, I have been doing your meditations. They suck! It hasn't helped me get stronger at all!"
"Then you're doing them wrong!" Cycloneman roared, creating twin vacuums on either side of his student.
"AUUUUUGGHHHH!!" Ivan screamed, pulled at once in two directions, so hard that - with an agonising wrench, his left shoulder was nearly dislocated. He fell to the ground, groaning in pain.
"I tell you, this boy is useless!" Cycloneman shouted, turning to the one observing his match. "He's quite...agile, but he has no control! And he shows no promise of the power that would merit this much of my attention."
"You sure? That really would be a shame, mate." The figure in blue armour tapped his fingers on his chair, smiling slightly. "Nucleon!"

Ivan shivered when he heard the Supremacist address him directly.
"Y-yes...?" He looked up, still clutching his arm, trying not to show there were tears of pain in his eyes.
"Is it true you're a weakling, Nucleon? No real promise? Destined for mediocrity at best?"
"Well, my lord and master," Ivan said, the adolescent unable to control his natural sarcasm, "I've been trying the same methods over and over again for weeks, with absolutely no success at all - so either I'm as useless as you say or Coach isn't the sensei he seems to think he is!" He didn't finish. Cycloneman flattened him into the ground. His nose didn't break, but he felt blood begin to trickle out of his nostrils.
"Fool! It took me years to reach this level of power, but even by your stage I had more control than this! Focus, discipline, the mastery of emotion - this is how a superhuman achieves greatness in his power!" Ivan groaned on the ground as he felt blood flow out of him. He clenched his fist. He'd felt special - chosen - when Jerry had revealed his true allegiances. But ever since that day he'd experienced nothing but pain, shame and humiliation. The rage built in him - and this time he made no attempt to control it. Hatred consumed him - and then he felt the heat...

"Please, my lord," Cycloneman said, leaving Ivan to stew in his indignity and turning to his master. "Allow me to help mould some of our more promising recruits: Regulus, Two-Star - or perhaps the newest one. With his gravity powers he could -" Martin had raised his hand, and Cycloneman fell into obedient silence.
"I think you might want to take another look, Jerry," Martin said. Cycloneman turned - and he was rather taken aback.

Ivan was staring straight at him, a violent, red-orange aura cascading upwards. The stone floor at his feet was beginning to crack, and melt. An updraft of power flowed into the ceiling above him, and little pebbles were falling onto Ivan as the roof above him began to buckle.
"Finally, you absorb my teachings!" Cycloneman began. "You have at last -"
"You self-righteous...half-witted, smug fuck!!" Ivan half screamed. "Weeks being taught by you, even when I found out who you really worked for. Learning meditation, tai-chi, all that hippy garbage...for nothing!" Jerry didn't understand. "Control of emotion might make you stronger - but why the hell did you think that would work for me? Every superhuman's power works completely differently. You never even tried to work out how mine worked, you just - you - arrrgghhh!" His anger made him almost incomprehensible. Weeks of humiliation - for nothing! He could have accessed this power any time he'd liked! "There are literally superhumans who are powered by their emotions! And guess what, little man - I'm one of them!" With a yell, his power grew even more intense, a withering heat coming from him.

"Don't get cocky just because you've made some late progress, boy. Remember your place in the Taxonomy." He made a sweeping motion with his hand, and Ivan flinched. He had been conditioned to expect pain whenever Cycloneman made that movement - but there was no pain. He had felt nothing. "What?!" Jerry gasped. His strike had faded to nothingness against Ivan's aura.
"Oh...oh my...now that is interesting..." Ivan said. He began slowly walking towards his 'mentor'. "Perhaps, 'Jerry', you're not quite as high up the Taxonomy as you thought." Cycloneman tried again, and the passive aura that Ivan was generating was no longer strong enough to block him. But he was not in a passive frame of mind, and threw out his power in a great burst. Cycloneman's attack faded into nothingness against the boy's new strength. He threw up a sphere of wind to protect himself, but it hardly did him any good.

"Aaaaiiiieee!" Jerry screamed, roasted by Ivan's attack, his skin covered in burns. "Auughh...uuuhhh..." he moaned, lying on the ground in a fetal position, quivering. Ivan approached him, a thin smile carving a gash in the left side of his face.
"Oh yes, yes, yes!" Ivan felt it now, inside him, a well of power - untapped, vast. It felt...limitless! He summoned more of it to himself - a scalding wind swirling around him. "You dog. You weak little blue-collar dog...how dare you take it upon yourself to instruct me? As if someone like you could teach me anything!" He raised his palm, gathering his strength. He started laughing - not a maniacal, villainous laugh, but an almost childish giggle. He felt giddy: it wasn't draining, using this power, it was...pleasurable. It was acutely pleasurable. He was going to kill this man with a smile on his face.

But then he thought better of it. Less charitably, one might say that he lost his nerve. At any rate, his aura faded, and he stepped back.
"S-so there!" he shouted, fostering the illusion that he'd never even intended to kill Jerry. "That's what you get, you rat!" He was shaking, shivering from the feeling of having come so close to the brink.
"Bravo!" The figure in blue-armour clapped vigorously at Ivan's display. "That's more bloody like it! I always knew you had it in you, kiddo."
"Er...thanks," Ivan mumbled. He couldn't pretend he wasn't terrified every time the man spoke to him.
"See the thing about Jerry is," Martin went on, "he's set in his ways. Convinced that there's only one way of doing things. I put you with him 'cause you needed to discover your power - your real power - for yourself. To own it, to master it." Ivan thought for a moment before responding.
"I...think I understand. This power is - whoa!" Ivan leapt backwards, summoning twin infernos around his arms. "Where the hell -?!"

Cycloneman was dead. Ivan hadn't killed him, and neither had the Supremacist. There was a knife plunged into his heart, and a young girl standing over him.
"H-how did she get there?!" Ivan stammered. He hadn't even realised the white-haired girl was in the room at all. She was quite pretty, though she looked three, perhaps four years younger than him, dressed in a long, white gown.
"I knew he was weaker than you'd turn out to be," Martin said. "No shame there - there's always someone better, ain't there? But he wasn't just weaker - he was weak. I don't have any tolerance for that." He whistled, and the girl went back over to him, kneeling next to his chair. The Supremacist started stroking her hair, running it through his fingers. It could have been an avuncular gesture of affection, but Ivan found himself more than a little creeped out.

"So, uh, what would you have of me now?" Ivan said. The Supremacist didn't answer. He rose from his chair, and walked slowly towards his the dark haired boy. He frowned.
"Do you think you could ever become stronger than me?" Ivan hesitated before answering.
"I...don't know. I suppose...probably not, but I have no idea what my limits are." Martin didn't reply. He just fixed Ivan with a look. The black-haired boy decided he wasn't going to be intimidated, and let his ego resurface. "Or was I supposed to be sycophantic? 'No master, of course not master, thou art mightiest in the realm master!'"
"Alright, alright, don't get your knickers in a twist." He mimed looking at a watch. "Oooh, you'd probably better be off home, eh? I'm sure daddy wouldn't like to find out his little boy's a terrorist. I bet your little sisters wouldn't be very pleased either." The Supremacist liked to remind Ivan that he knew where his family lived. 'Just in case you have a change of heart' were the unspoken words that kept Ivan, if not loyal, then at least silent.
"Hmph," Ivan grunted. He turned to leave. He really, really should have just gone, but his ego got the better of him once more. "I say, master. The strongest have the right to rule, yes?"
"That's right," the Supremacist replied. "You makin' a point here, son, or what?"
"Well, since the Indigo Titan beat you so badly that everyone thinks you're dead, shouldn't he be -"

Martin didn't let him finish. Two royal-blue tendrils reached out, grabbed Ivan by the arms, and slammed him into the ceiling. He tried to retaliate, sending a burst of atomic energy strong enough to destroy a small house into his foe, but such power was as nothing to the Supremacist. He slammed Ivan down, then up again, and so on, before seizing him by the throat. He held him up in the air with a ribbon of energy, the diplomat's son gasping, writhing and trying in vain to free himself.
"That was a stupid thing to say, kiddo," Martin said, marching quickly towards Ivan. "A really bloody stupid thing!" He squeezed tighter, and Ivan could feel his windpipe was close to being crushed.
"P...please..." he managed to choke out, tears in his eyes, "please d-don't...kill me!" Martin smiled.
"Well...if you insist..." He let Ivan fall to the ground, gasping and wheezing. "I don't want to waste you, Ivan." Even in his pain, the fact that the Supremacist had used his real name caught the boy's attention. "There's only one power greater than what I wield, and that's posterity. Leaving a legacy. Fightin' the Titan - and don't worry, I will find a way to kill him - reminded me that even I'm mortal. And I'm not getting any younger. Someone's gotta keep grindin' down the inferiors even when I'm gone. It'd be a real shame if the only thing stopping that from being you...was that big fuckin' mouth of yours." He beckoned to the girl who'd been kneeling by his chair. "Come on, Lissandra."
"Yes, sir..." the girl said, humbly, trotting after him. She looked back at Ivan, still wheezing and crying on the ground, and then continued to walk away.
"Don't forget today's lesson, Nucleon!" the Supremacist shouted over his shoulder as he left.
"Oh, don't worry," Ivan growled through his tears, slamming his fist on the ground. "I won't!"
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Supremacist had fought Zjarrus, the man he insisted on calling by his old name, three times in his life. Once when he was fifteen, again during his cataclysmic betrayal, and a third time at the Battle of Seacouver Needle. One none of those occasions had Ivan really threatened him, though he'd been frustratingly difficult to put down in their most recent fight. By all accounts, he should have been preparing simply to dismiss his former acolyte. Yet this time, something was different. He could feel it. He rose up to the same height as Ivan, looked him dead in the eye, and smiled. Ivan didn't see it, but Martin was aware of it: a tiny, niggling worm of fear. Despite his reclaimed youth, the Supremacist suddenly felt really rather old.

"How's prison treated you, Martin?" Ivan said. He was still thin, but there was a kind of wiry strength in his body now. Martin could see prominent veins in his neck - he wasn't a boy anymore, that was for sure.
"Not too badly, Nucleon. How's following in daddy's footsteps? They appoint you ambassador of anywhere yet?"
"I got fired, actually!" Ivan said, with surprising cheer. He folded his arms across his chest. "Turns out I'm much too scary to represent our great nation's interests. So I took a leaf out of your book, and started running with a little crew of my own."
"Hydrocita and the weirdos? Not much of an empire, mate, but it's a start."
"Oh, don't get me wrong. Hydrocita's our leader - think of me as the power behind the throne."
"Ah, I see."

There was a long silence. A cold wind blew across the two men, making hairs stand up on the backs of their necks. The rain fell all about them, and though it touched neither due to their powers, it lent an appropriate drama to the affair. As they spoke they rose higher, and higher, until to those in the prison below, they were the merest of pinpricks.
"Last chance. Snap your fingers, kill everyone on this island, and come back to the only side worth being on."
"What, and be your lackey again?" Ivan laughed. "Be the next Dextrus or Sinistrus?" Martin shook his head.
"No, mate. I think we both know you're a step above that. Every Emperor needs a viceroy, don't they? Every king an heir apparent..." Ivan raised his eyebrow as if to say 'really? You're serious?' Martin shrugged in reply. "Well," he said, with genuine wistfulness, "it was worth a shot." He began shining blue as he prepared for battle. "Fair warning: I've no intention of going back to prison."
"What a funny coincidence," Ivan said, shivering as he felt the tingle of his power rushing outwards and upwards. "As it happens, you're not going back to prison." He drew his hands back, gathering strength for his first strike. "Ready?"
"Ready."

Alarms went off in every relevant office of every military establishment in the country. For, at the first blow in the fourth battle between Zjarrus and the Supremacist, the United States government was momentarily convinced that the country was under nuclear attack.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Mmmph! MMMPHHH!!" Falcona groaned, straining her slender frame in the plastic bonds she'd been shackled in. Her supple legs shone with sweat, her cheeks were flushed with humiliation and exhaustion. She had forgotten just how tiring it was being tied up and gagged. She leaned back, whimpering, wishing her husband would play the chauvinist and just dash in to rescue her as he had when they'd first met.

Next to her, Chupacabra moaned, almost sobbing, in her confusion and distress. They heard the explosions even from so deep within the prison, and each one made Leanne shriek behind her gag.
"C'mon, kid, keep your strength up..." Catherine thought, trying at least to catch Leanne's eye to give her some measure of comfort. She was so bad at coping with hardship - but there was no-one better to be with when things were good. Catherine just wanted to make things good for her again - but she didn't even have that power.

Their captor continued fiddling with the controls of the stasis tank containing her true master, apparently having a little difficulty with them. Only Falcona noticed that her hands were trembling.
"I wonder if, when you were younger," Sinistrus said, "you believed in fairy tales."
"Whhmph?" Chupa mewed. "What the hell's she talking about now?"
"Good princesses, evil witches...it's temptingly simple, isn't it?" She smiled. "I believed in that sort of world for a long time. I was an evil witch, of course. I have magical powers, I work for the Devil - or his closest earthly equivalent - and I've killed...so many times... so if I were an evil witch, then it wouldn't be my fault, of course. I'm just...evil. But the world isn't that simple, is it?" Falcona was astonished that Sinistrus was so conflicted. Leanne was just confused. Catherine, however...for Catherine her words rang all too clearly. "We have just enough free will that we can be blamed...but not enough actually to change. What?" She turned to the tank. "Soon...I promise it will be soon, master. You know I wouldn't delay deliberately." She gave a little gasp, a kind of hysterical relief. "Thank you, master. I don't deserve your kindness..."
"What on earth is going on in this place?!" Falcona thought, and shook her head in aghast confusion. This had easily been the strangest day of her life.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Sophie didn't exactly know if she was pleased to see Ivan. A powerful ally against the Supremacist? Great! But of the three men and two women she could think of who could actually give the Supremacist a decent fight, Ivan was probably the one she'd have been least happy to see.
"Mmrrrhhmphh!" she growled, still shackled in glowing, cerulean bonds of energy. She looked up, watching Ivan match the raging nuclear inferno within him against the ethereal power of his former master, and it gave her a twinge of shame that it took so little power to restrain her that the Supremacist could spare the energy even as he fought one of the strongest men on the planet.

But was she, perhaps, a little relieved? She'd fought so hard, with such desperate effectiveness and skill that there was a part of her, a substantial part, which thought perhaps she'd done enough for one day. Subduing K-Section, defeating Dextrus - and enduring yet another round of humiliating captivity. She wondered if, were she freed, she'd have any courage left at all. Surely even her supply was limited. Surely she couldn't keep fighting forever.

"H-hey, l-lady!" It was Pretender. The awkward young man in the terrifying armour leapt over to her - literally, he jumped about thirty feet forward to reach her. "Uh...hold s-still, okay?" He reached down, putting his curved, clawed fingers together, like he was about to perform a karate chop. Concentrating, he gathered a sickly green energy about his hand. "Okay...d-don't choke don't ch-choke don't - ah!" Just before he'd been about to free Enhancegirl, her bonds vanished from her body. He jumped back in surprise. "Oh, well, okay then..."

Sophie didn't move for a few seconds. She looked straight up, watching the fight between the two giants of her world. The Supremacist was trying to overwhelm him with a complex mass of tendrils, but Ivan kept knocking them away with devastatingly powerful spheres of deathly light. It was beautiful, really, watching the spectacular display. Sophie watched the rain evaporating and exploding away from them, cascades of colours as their powers clashed. She suddenly felt very, very small. What was she, next to people like that?

And then she remembered, as a child, watching old newsreels on television of some of the first major superheroes - Hyperman, Flotsam & Jetsam, the first and second Ladies Luck - who won hearts in capes and tights - outfits sewed together by their parents, or wives - by saving people from aeroplane crashes, or mudslides, or burning buildings. Superheroes still did that, of course, but nobody paid any attention to it. Sophie remembered seeing the first Lady Luck - her outfit not, in retrospect, all that different from Sophie's - literally rescuing a cat from a tree in one piece of footage. It was astonishing - before the culture of the superhero had really crystallised, before it had even really begun, people found themselves with godlike powers, and what did they do with them? For the most part, they'd just...helped! That was what had made Sophie fall in love with the idea of superheroes as a little girl. People with power doing good, not...
"Not 'badasses' showing off how big their dicks are to each other..."

She got up, quite slowly.
"Hey, Pretender," she said. "You're really new to this game, right?"
"G-game? It's n-not a game!" Sam barked. Enhancegirl smiled.
"You're right, it's not. Can I give you a little advice?" Sam glanced up repeatedly at the battle going on overhead.
"Uh, c-could you make it q-quick?"
"Don't let Hydrocita and Zjarrus tell you what kind of hero to be."
"L-lady, as for right now, I'd k-kinda just like to survive my first encounter with th...the second-strongest guy in the w-world. I'll think about the phil...philoso...philosophy later!"
"Fair enough," Sophie said. "Are you gonna be okay here? I'm, like, not exactly sure what I can do to help, and I need to track down some..." She hesitated to use the word 'friends'. "Some...allies back in the jail."
"Uh, okay." She turned to leave. "Say - you th-think after this is all -"
"I'm gay," Sophie said, both consolingly and bluntly at once. "But you know what, if I weren't? I'd totally have considered it."
"Oh, that's great," Sam thought, as Enhancegirl dashed away into the prison's bowels, "a hypothetical 'maybe'. Well, closest I've had so far..."
"Yo, Tin-Can!" Hydrocita shouted, raising herself up towards the raging battle "are you gonna help, or what?"
"Uh, c-coming!" he yelled back. "No idea what I'm actually gonna do, but whatever..." He looked around. "Hey, w-where did M-Max get to?"

When they'd first tried to attack him, the Pariahs had been easily cast aside by the Supremacist. With two quick attacks, he'd hurled away both Angermax and the Pretender. The latter of the two had been protected from the impact by his armour. As for the former, he'd been hurled back towards the cells.
"Holy shit!" Gregory snapped backwards about ten feet when Angermax hit the cell he and the others were in.
"Would you mind telling your friend not to use himself as a cannonball, please?" Miles shouted. "Honestly..." Jason didn't answer. His friend was slumped against the bent bars of their cell. He approached him, slowly.
"Max? Hey, Max, say something!" He touched Angermax on the shoulder and, to his relief, Max turned, his bright blue eyes still sharply open. But Catastrophe's relief didn't last long. On Max's stark white, padded outfit, there was a deep, red stain, right over his stomach.
"Jason...Jason..." he mumbled. "I...wasn't...fast enough..." The bars hadn't just bent - they had snapped, and to his horror, Jason found that one of them had pierced right through the stomach of his oldest, dearest friend.
"No...please no..." Jason whimpered. He knew. He already knew. He wasn't shaking with fear - he was shaking with grief.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As Sophie pelted down the corridors of the Penitentiary Supreme, following Falcona's scent to wherever she was being kept hidden, she tried to ignore the sounds of the explosions. There wasn't anything she could do about a battle of that scale: she had to focus on the task she'd given herself. She went further and further in, and as she did, she got a strange feeling in her chest. A kind of pressure - familiar and profoundly unsettling. If she'd had to compare it to anything, it was like in Ferndale, when she'd seen that black-haired, screaming phantom, or perhaps the previous year, when she'd been brainwashed by the -

Sophie froze.
"No. No, no, no." Fear. Paralysing, cold fear took her - almost. Enhancegirl clenched her fist. "No. Not today. Not this shit too! I am not fucking having it!" she screamed at no-one in particular, and launched into a full-on sprint. For this reason, when she eventually reached the cell containing the heroine for whom she searched, Sinistrus had heard her coming. She was prepared for a fight - but she wasn't prepared for Enhancegirl.

"AUUUGGHHHH!!" the red-haired warrior screamed, in a furious, ugly battle-cry as she hit Sinistrus with a running punch so hard that she damned near won the fight from sheer shock-value. Sinistrus stumbled backwards almost too shocked to realise what had happened. She looked up, dazed, but her attacker wasn't looking at her. She was looking at the tank. "Mother-fucker!!" She looked at Sinistrus with bared teeth. "Oh, the Supremacist wasn't enough?! You've gotta be working for maybe the one jackass even more..." She searched for a word. "More...repulsive than he is?"
"He is disgusting," Sinistrus said, getting to her feet, and rather surprising Enhancegirl by her response. "That's why I have to release the Sin Eater! She'll protect us all from him...from men like him!" Hearing the name trebled Sophie's rage - but she swallowed it, and turned to Sinistrus' three captives.
"Hey there," she said. "Give me, like, a minute to beat this chick senseless, and I'll have you out of there in no time." Falcona did feel a bit of relief. She might not have been Caduceus, but she certainly made quite a striking saviour.

"You're not going to stop this," Sinistrus said. "Why would you want to? All I wish...all I wish is to be free of...of what he made me into!" Enhancegirl looked at her for a moment, and narrowed her eyes. Something was off. She didn't sound like the others had, the one's the Sin Eater had brainwashed.
"Wait a minute... you're not talking like one of her zombies. You're talking like that's what you want to happen. Like, in the future." She came to a rather perplexing conclusion. "She's not controlling you, is she? She got to you, but she hasn't given you the treatment. You actually want to serve her!"
"Of course I do," Sinistrus said, confused. Sophie almost laughed.
"Are you fucking kidding me? Do you even know what she wants?"
"The same thing as you, in a sense," Sinistrus replied. "And you as well," she added, gesturing at Falcona. "To cleanse the world of evil. To cleanse the hearts of women of evil, and protect us from men, to protect us from..." She shuddered. "To keep us safe..."

Sophie didn't understand this at all. She had only the vaguest notion of the Sin Eater's goals. As far as Sophie remembered, the idea of the Sin Eater was to restore women to submission to men. Thinking about it, from the way Sinistrus was talking, it sounded like her relationship with the Supremacist was exactly the sort of thing of which Féa would have approved. So Sinistrus was being tricked, somehow the Sin Eater was talking to her without being able to brainwash her, at least not completely. Alright fine - but why was Sinistrus having any of it? Why was the skilled, deadly, intelligent mastermind who'd planned the Supremacist's escape falling for such a childish, simplistic lie? Enhancegirl just didn't get it.

But Falcona did.
"Oh, heavens...oh, that poor girl..." There had been rumours. Rumours that Sinistrus had not just been recruited one day out of the blue, that she was the daughter of Stipan Tomislav, who'd been the leader of the superhuman separatist movement before the Supremacist, Stipan's former enforcer, had decided Tomislav wasn't quite radical enough for his liking. "It's true...he's been moulding her into a weapon since she was a child..." Of course she would want a saviour. Of course she would want to be purified. How could she want anything else?
"Fuck this, I don't care what your reasons are." Sophie approached the controls of Féa's pod, even as her very body seemed to reject the notion of getting any closer to it. "This stops n -" Sophie almost didn't see it. She shouldn't have seen it. No-one else would have. Sinistrus had triggered her field of ignorance, and moved in to strike Sophie. It should have been as easy to subdue her as before.

Except, it wasn't.
"Aah!" Sinistrus cried out, as - without looking at her - Enhancegirl punched her in the mouth.
"Hm?" Sophie herself seemed surprised at this turn of events. "Ahh, okay, that's weird!" A few months prior, the day she'd comprehended and admitted her feelings towards Mariko, Enhancegirl had had another revelation as well: her powers came with a nervous system so acutely enhanced, that her body could, as it were, respond to danger without necessarily having to involve her brain. This made her reactions faster even than many superhumans with enhanced physical speed - and it bypassed entirely Sinistrus' field of ignorance. It was a strange cognitive dissonance, but Sophie wasn't about to complain.

"How did she do that?" Sinistrus said. No fool, she assumed it had something to do with Sophie's senses, but couldn't work out the specifics for herself. She tried again, this time making sure to approach from behind, but Sophie's nervous system wasn't fooled. A snap kick flew out, the flat heel of Enhancegirl's silver boot connecting directly with Sinistrus' forehead. "Ugh!" Sinistrus was hit so hard that her concentration slipped, and her field dropped. Enhancegirl pressed the attack, dropping onto her hands and swinging her legs at Sinistrus' ankles. She went down hard, her head cracking against the concrete ground.

"Yhhhfff!" Falcona cheered through her gag, as she saw Enhancegirl's domination of her opponent. "Oh, well done, Elena!" Sinistrus, groaning, was athletic enough to get back up before Sophie could down her completely. Her silvery skin glistening with sweat, she tried the attack that she'd used so effectively against Caitiff and Falcona, switching rapidly in and out of her field of ignorance. But while this was very disorienting even for Sophie, the process was just too slow. Her senses adjusted too quickly to be overwhelmed or subverted. Sinistrus dropped the field, moved as if she was going to attack Sophie's right hand side, then raised the field and moved left with such speed that it would have been a convincing feint even without her powers - but it just didn't work. Sophie grabbed her shoulder and wrist without thinking, and used her momentum to turn and overbalance her, using one of her legs as a fulcrum, and throwing Sinistrus back down onto the floor again. Sinistrus realised, as pain wracked her body from all of Sophie's attacks, that this was a fight she just couldn't win. Enhancegirl was simply...better.

"Don't get up," Enhancegirl said. "I mean it!" For the first time, Sophie got a really good look at Sinistrus. She was beautiful: thick, white hair, a buxom chest that her half-undone prison uniform did very little to conceal. Silvery, almost sparkling skin. She saw every movement, every breath. She saw the damage that she herself had done to Lissandra that day, and other scars, older ones. Sinistrus' had been a lifetime of violence. There was a look in her eyes, a distress, a pain - not just the pain that Sophie had inflicted, but deeper, cutting right through the heart of her. Sophie wondered what kind of horrors a person might have to face where they would choose loyalty to the Sin Eater. "Trading one abuser for another," Sophie thought, and in that moment she felt a real sympathy for her enemy. She felt cold, suddenly, and wrapped her arms around her chest, but she didn't pay it any attention.

Having never been subjected to this side of Sinistrus' powers before, it was not immediately obvious that Sinistrus was doing anything at all. After all, why would she want to draw so much attention to herself when she was Sophie's only immediate foe? Sophie probably would have figured that something was wrong if she'd looked at Sinistrus' captives, for the three women were just as focused on Sinistrus as she was. As such, she didn't realise that anything was wrong until the ray of light hit her in the back.

"Aaaaaaaauuuuhhhhh!!" Sophie screamed, her body shaking. It wasn't painful, it just felt...wrong. A draining, siphoning feeling, like her strength was being drawn out of her. "What's...happening?" she whimpered before, quite suddenly, it stopped. "Unnhh...uuuhhhhh..." Sophie moaned, her bare legs shivering. Except they weren't bare anymore. They were covered thinly in black stockings, her feet again clad in high heels, a torn, dishevelled blouse covering her torso, but for where Gridiron had torn it and exposed her. The gold warrant of Enhancegirl had vanished, and with it, Sophie's powers.

"Nnnhhh..." Like someone had waved a chloroform-soaked rag over her face, Sophie felt a withering weakness running through her. Suddenly she didn't feel like a wielder of wonders, like the lightning-fast fighter she was. She felt like a helpless, simpering girl. With a soft sigh, she almost floated, gently sinking down onto her pretty, white knees. "Enh...Enha..." She couldn't get the words out. It was like someone had knocked the breath out of her. A choking darkness, a cold seemed to wrap itself around her, like a tendril of dread itself was strangling her. She drew in breath, aware of how little time she had, tried to focus. "Enha - MMMMPPPHHHH!!"

"No." The deep contralto was all too easily recognisable. "No, Sophie Scott...you will not open that harlot's mouth..." The long fingered hand shut over Sophie's lips like a vice, squeezing her cheeks, keeping her as thoroughly gagged as she'd ever been.
"Mmmhhh...MMMMPHHHHH!!" Sophie moaned, straining and groaning as she tried to get away. But there was no escape. Hauled up to her feet, Sophie tried to pull her captor's arm away from her mouth, but another arm wrapped around her chest, pinning her. Her hands flapped uselessly at her sides. She wriggled her head, but the hand gagging her kept a tight seal over her soft mouth. "No...no! Not this...not this...!" She couldn't get away. This woman - this monster - was...strong. She towered over Sophie, a giantess of darkness, malice.

"Were I vengeful," came the whisper into her ear, "I would slit your throat for what you have made me endure. Imprisoned by men...foul, wretched beasts! Caged like an animal! I should destroy you, Sophie, you treacherous hussy...but I am kind...I am far kinder than you deserve. Poor, sinful creature..." She sniffed Sophie's hair, and the powerless damsel shivered, feeling Féa press herself enthusiastically against her. "I will do whatever it takes...I will save you...I will save you all." The giantess turned her head towards Sinistrus, looking at her - into her - with black eyes, like inky stains in her ivory face, her long hair wet with the pomegranate-smelling residue of her stasis tank. "Fear, Lissandra?" she said. "No need for that now. I will give you everything that you have desired."
"Y-yes, master..." Sinistrus whispered. She felt a relief within her like a starving man given food. A deliverer! A saviour from the nightmare at long last!

Yet for those who had not seen her before, it was Féa who was the nightmare - like a child's nightmare. Not that the Sin Eater looked childish or silly, far from it. Rather, she seemed to speak to a primal terror, one against which a child's mind cannot yet defend itself. But here she was. Real. Smiling - darkness given form...and power.

"Mmhh...mmmhhh...!" Sophie quailed as she struggled in the Sin Eater's grip - for it could only be the Sin Eater who inspired that sort of black terror within her. Worse than captivity, worse than defeat - worse even than death: the fear that everything she was would be lost. She felt again a fear that was not just fear - an intrusive, alien sensation of cowardice, as if Féa were injecting her with it. She wanted to scream, and cry. She wanted Mariko to burst in and save her, or Imperion, or Valora, or anyone. She didn't want to lose herself again. For one reason or another, this, in Sophie's mind, had become her ultimate horror.

"Nnnnnhhhhhh..." Falcona moaned, tears in her eyes as she saw her hopes dashed once again. She had no idea who this Sin Eater was, but even she was afraid. Leanne was whimpering like a kitten, and Catherine was straining and growling against her bonds.
"Hush now," Féa said. "I will attend to you shortly." She passed her eyes across them, and her gaze lingered momentarily on Caitiff. She recoiled, like she'd smelt a bad odour. But she returned in short order to the writhing maiden in her grasp.

"Do you see her, Lissandra?" Féa said. "This...whore. Look at how she dresses. Look at how she exposes herself..." From the Sin Eater's body, twin tendrils of shadow emerged, looking not like they were coming out of her body, but that they were being sketched into reality by some invisible artist. They slithered like serpents over Sophie's body, wrapping around her chest, squeezing her arms against her sides, enveloping the lower half of her torso in darkness, while another coiled round her long, stocking-clad legs, binding them far more tightly than was necessary to keep Sophie restrained. One last tendril covered her mouth, thinner than the others, wrapping two or three times around to make sure Sophie couldn't speak.
"Mmphhh...MMMPPPHHHHHH!!" Sophie screamed. "How...how do I fight this?! I don't have anything fucking left! I can't...I can't..." She cast her eyes down, as Sinistrus happened to look at her. Lissandra knew what was wrong with herself, why she so desperately needed to be purified. But she wondered what exactly this young, noble hero had done to deserve her new master's hatred...
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Grrghhh!" the Supremacist growled, as he fended off yet another inferno. He reached out with his powers, formed a thousand flails, swinging them in mad, dizzying patterns to try to catch and crush his enemy. Each flail contained unspeakable power, and as Ivan weaved between them, they gouged huge chunks out of the ocean floor and the island itself. But it was frustrating in the extreme. He just couldn't catch him! Ivan, to be sure, was stronger than the last time Martin had faced him in terms of just the output of his power, but that wasn't the main difference between then and now. He was faster.

Zjarrus didn't fly in the way an aeroplane flies, needing to pay attention to lift, and so on. He flew on sheer thrust, and he was taking full advantage of this fact. He hurtled around the battlefield in a chaotic pattern, his power bursting out of different parts of his body to throw him in different directions. It was as though he had an indefinite number of rocket boosters surrounding his body, and he could fire any of them whenever he liked. The Supremacist couldn't keep up with his speed.

"HHHAAAUUUGGHHH!!" The Pariah screamed as, looping on his own flightpath, he tricked Martin into giving him enough space to pause, focus and fire straight upwards. A torrent of fiery energy burst out from him, engulfing his enemy and cascading far, far above him. He hooted with delight: the stronger the blast, the greater the pleasure he experienced. He kicked it up a gear, and pushed as hard as he could, until, for fear of draining himself dry, he stopped, rocketing back to avoid reprisal.

But there was none. For a moment Ivan thought that he might have won, but even in his most arrogant moments he wouldn't have thought it could have been so easy. And, indeed, Martin was unharmed, hiding behind a spherical barrier. He lowered it, and Ivan grinned. He was sweating, his skin red like he was halfway towards a sunburn.
"Too hot for you, Martin?" Ivan shouted. "I could always dial it down except, you know, I am trying to kill you and everything."
"You're not trying hard enough," Martin said. This didn't seem like a taunt. "You're having fun. That might be enough for the little toe-rags who infest that god-awful town," he said, gesturing towards Seacouver. "But not for me." He spread his arms out wide, and summoned two brilliantly blue wings of cerulean light. One he thrust behind him, cutting apart a half-formed dragon of water that Hydrocita, thinking herself unseen, had been conjuring. The other, he plunged into the ground, cutting through the sea, right down through the sea floor down and down, further than any other superhuman could possibly have managed in so small a time. He carved a hole down, deep into the earth, extended his grasp into its fiery bowels - and sent a torrent of liquid hot magma burning out towards his opponent.

"Jesus Christ!" Ivan had certainly not expected that, nor did he expect the hill-sized chunks of rock that were thrown at him. Some he blasted, some he weaved around. He tried to pierce through it, to the old man at the eye of the storm, but he couldn't. He flew in dizzying, spirals, hurling himself around like a pinball, knowing that the slightest mistake would mean death. He was almost surprised at himself: he was agile, but rarely this agile. Yet, keeping his eye on Martin, it was as if he knew him so well that he could predict where each attack would be. Lances strong enough to give even Imperion pause thrust into the water all around him, lave spewing up with each daggerblow into the earth, and Ivan flew round, balletic - nigh on faultless. He knew exactly where to be - but he couldn't fight back.

Martin was, without question, trying to kill Ivan, but he couldn't help but be impressed. That snotty little rich kid was fighting him - on an almost equal footing. As much as Martin hated him, as much as he thought him a cowardly, backsliding traitor...he couldn't help but admire him. Nucleon...the human atom bomb. Raw, terrifying power given flesh. Himself - minus the subtlety, and now surely one of the greatest powers in the world.
"Good for you, kid," he muttered - and then went back to trying to murder him.

From the shore the Pretender fired every weapon in his arsenal, but it did virtually nothing. Hydrocita too pressed her attack, but it was all she could do to defend the prison island from the devastation that the Supremacist was wreaking. She constructed a great wall of water, raising it so high that, had it been a wave, it would have drowned everyone on the island. She didn't want to be playing a support role - it felt much too much like being back in the Pauldron. But actually being a hero mattered more to her than her own ego...slightly.

Ivan was frustrated as well. He changed tack completely. The Supremacist tried to stop him, but he was still too fast. Martin pursued, but didn't have a quarter of Ivan's speed. He rose higher, and higher, and higher, until the air was so thin that his aura began to fade, not because he was losing power, but just because there wasn't much oxygen to burn in the air around him. He looked down, still able to see the glittering blue of his old enemy's power, and began to charge.

Instead of screaming, straining and growling like he'd used to, he utilised a series of breathing exercises that Angermax had helped him develop, reducing the strain on his body, and massively decreasing the charge time, allowing him to push himself further than ever before. If he'd had access to the power he had now when he'd fought Ricardo Hosenfluss, he'd have been able to kill him without about as much ease as Enhancegirl had had against Hammerblow. He let the energy gather, remembering all the things he'd been made to do, all the things Martin had tried to turn him into. But unlike Lissandra, he hadn't let himself become a servant. He'd remembered every indignity, and channelled it all into himself.

"Okay, Ivan...don't let go too early...we've never had that problem before, have we?" he muttered to himself. He saw Martin approaching, and realised that he'd have to be incredibly precise. Angermax wasn't the only one who'd helped him develop his strength: he'd learned from Hydrocita how to focus his power into one concentrated, high pressure burst. He focused, knowing that if he missed, he'd probably detonate the whole of Seacouver. If it weren't for the fact that his beloved sister lived there, he wouldn't have minded all that much.

The Supremacist was getting close now. Already, bursts of blue light were firing off around him, but Ivan was able to avoid them. He tried to wait until the last possible moment, when the jaws of a great trap were about to close upon him, as a thousand tendrils reached out to ensnare and dismember him.
"Aaahhh!" he cried as, miscalculating, Ivan was struck across the chest, a plume of blood spurting out of him. He flew higher, but while the Supremacist was not as fast as him, his constructs were faster. Another struck his leg, and Ivan howled with pain - but he kept his concentration. With a deathly scream he turned, looked down - and he let go.

It didn't look large, but Martin had managed to get as old as he had for a reason. He was a canny warrior, and when he saw Ivan's suspiciously restrained-looking attack, he drew the energy of his attacks back into himself, and raised a shield, a seven-layered shield, as strong as he could make it.
"I'm proud of how far you've come, kiddo!" Martin shouted up at Zjarrus. "But you're not -"

Even he could not hear the next word out of his mouth. When Ivan's attack smashed against his shield, there was a blinding, deafening explosion so vast that once again Zjarrus had restored untimely daylight to California. A mile below, Seacouverites and - miles away - Renning Citizens alike screamed in terror at the spectacle, as did all but the hardest hearts in the Penitentiary Supreme.

Catastrophe was not among the hardest hearts of the prison, certainly not at that moment. He didn't even notice the sounds of battle above him. He didn't care. Max was dying.
"Liam, break the bars. G-get him off there!" Hammerblow obeyed, snapping the remaining bars with his prodigious strength, careful not to pull out the one impaling his old ally. He broke that bar at the ground, carrying him carefully onto one of the bunks. Jason almost pushed Liam aside to hold Max, politeness be damned.

"Hey, Maxie!" Jason growled at him, pulling off his white mask. "Hey, man, you're...you're gonna be okay..."
"Nnhhgghh..." Max tried to speak, but blood spurted out of his mouth. He couldn't speak. He looked stunned, like he knew what was happening, but he couldn't get himself to believe it.
"Find a...a doctor...find Doctor Yveson, or something!" Mindblow yelled at Liam.
"If you see a man in a suit, tall, blonde, muscly," Miles said, "that's my brother. He'll be more effective than any doctor."
"Right," Hammerblow replied, barrelling out of his cell, and beginning a desperate search.
"He might be wearing really stupid looking magenta spandex!" Miles shouted after him.

Weakly, Max reached out for Jason's hand, but was too feeble to hold it, so Jason did it for him. Reality seemed to be settling in, because the wiry young man, sandy-haired with his powers off, looked more afraid than shocked now.
"Uh, Jesus, dude," Jason said, trying not to let Max hear his voice quake. "You were so fucking awesome back there...we should have called you Catastrophe! Angermax fits me pretty well - plus, in FF Seven I always preferred that attack, y'know? Barret never seemed like a giant laser kind of guy, right?" He almost lost his nerve, but he summoned up his courage, if only to comfort his friend. "Remember that? We were, what...eight years old when that game came out?"
"S...stole a...Playstation..." Max spluttered, a hint of a smile on his face.
"Oh yeah!" Jason laughed, clapped his hands together. "Hey, you know I think that's the first crime I ever committed." When he'd started the sentence, he'd been amused, but by the end...well, it didn't seem quite so funny anymore.

Jason could hear Max's breath getting shallower, and shallower. It was miraculous that he was still conscious. Trying not to focus on the terror of his death, Max attempted to think of some last words to say, but he realised that he didn't want to say anything. He barely even could say anything, not with all that blood in his throat. To his shame, he started crying, but if Jason disapproved, he didn't show it. And then, even in his blood-starved, addled state, Max realise that there was something he wanted.
"J...Jason..." he gargled.
"What, dude?" Catastrophie replied, gripping one of his friend's hands with both of his. "What do you want?" Max got a funny look in his eye, the look he got before he was about to say something clever, or point out that Jason had done something stupid. He held onto Jason's hand as tightly as he could and then - just for an instant - his power reignited, the white light surrounded him, surrounded them both. "Dude, what are you doing?! Don't fucking strain yourself!" But, in a moment it was done.
"Aaaahhhhhh..." Max groaned, in a mixture of exhaustion and relief. His head fell to the side, and Jason could tell that he'd slipped one step closer. There was an odd kind of clarity in his eyes now. He seemed to stop breathing.
"Max? Max?!"
"Lie..."
"What?" He was so startled that Max had spoken that he didn't understand at first. His old friend had to turn his head back towards him.
"Lie to me..."

Catastrophe looked behind him. Miles and Gregory were watching, and listening, of course. He glared at them. Miles didn't get it, but Gregory pulled him away.
"I..." He almost choked on it. Where he came from, family and neighbourhood, men were not supposed to say what Max wanted him to say, not to other men. Even if they didn't mean it. Even if they couldn't mean it. Hoarsely, almost inaudibly, though, so quickly that he might have been on fast-forward, he managed at last to croak it out: "I love you."
"Really? Ah...kick...fuckin' ass..." Max laughed, and lay back, before - having quickly gathered up as much inner peace as he could muster on short notice - cradled in the arms of the man who had so asymmetrical a relationship with him, Max gave one last gasp, and died.


"Aaaauugghhh!!" the Supremacist screamed, crashing awkwardly back onto the island where he'd been imprisoned, knocked flying by the devastating clash between Ivan's power and his own. By the time it had reached his body, Ivan's attack had been reduced in power thousands and thousands of times over...but this still meant that the last jet that pierced his final shield hit the Supremacist with about the force of a bullet from a handgun. He bleeding, and he was in serious pain. He used his powers to create a sort of makeshift bandage, squeezing the wound to keep himself from losing blood.

"Unnhhh..hhhhhrrkkhhh!" Ivan groaned and growled, as he clumsily landed a few feet away. He didn't have any wounds as severe as the one he'd given Martin, but he was covered in lacerations, deep cuts, gashes all over his body. That last attack had tired him, and he wasn't sure how much he had left in the tank. He looked up for aid, but Hydrocita hadn't even seen that they'd landed, still contending with the upswelling of magma that Martin had unleashed. He couldn't see the Pretender anywhere either. The two men stared each other down. There was no more sardonic good will, no more banter. Both were too close to the possibility of death. Ivan knew it the moment he looked into the Supremacist's eyes: he was genuinely afraid that he could lose. He'd have smiled if he hadn't been in so much pain. Both men began to gather their power once again, and were about to get right back to it - until they heard the scream.

"SUPREMACIST!!" Neither man recognised the short convict with spiky black hair. Neither knew why he was so enraged, and neither particularly cared either. But he screamed again, wordlessly, and he began to churn the cauldron of Catastrophe's blazing columns of light - and, which took even Ivan a moment to realise, he clouded himself with a rushing, white aura that only pure, righteous anger could produce: the power of rage; the power -

- of Angermax!
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DrDominator9
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Nice chapter. Lots of interesting emotional insights within the battles. Some intriguing ideas delivered regarding the foundations of heroic and villainous behaviors.
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Damselbinder

"Whhmhh...mmphh..." Sophie whimpered, stripped of her powers, bound in darkness, and absolutely helpless. She wasn't trying to speak, she was just...whimpering. It was too much. It was all too much: she was a nineteen year old girl, for fuck's sake! She wanted to be completing her college course, pissing about with her friends, and having sex with her girlfriend. And yes, she wanted to be a superhero, of course, perhaps the only thing that she wanted almost as much as Mariko but...did that have to mean a life full of horrors? Danger - even mortal danger - she could take. Fighting Dextrus, for instance, had been frightening, and exhausting, but it hadn't...shaken her. But this? In the grip of another monster, another terror? She felt like she was on the verge of collapsing, not of having an emotional breakdown or anything like that but...collapsing. That even if the Sin Eater had not had the power to chew up everything she was and leave a submissive husk in her place, she - Sophie Scott - was in danger of being destroyed. She felt so...fragile, like she was made of glass, like the edifice of her selfhood would crumble at any moment. She felt like giving in. To the Sin Eater? No, but to something. To what? To -

"You vile...sickening creatures!" Féa shouted, turning on the three women that Sinistrus had defeated and captured, startling even Sinistrus herself. "You!" She turned on Catherine, grabbing her by the throat, and hauling her up to her feet.
"Mghh! Mnngghhh!" Catherine groaned, and strained, but couldn't escape. The grip tightened, and she actually had to stop struggling quite so hard for fear of being throttled.
"I feel it inside you...your lust...your rapacious sickness..." She stared hard into Catherine's eyes, the criminal frozen with dread.
"She's...fucking psychic or something..." Catherine thought. Perhaps because she had spent so long in the presence of another monster, she was not so terrified as to be in total mental disarray. "But she could turn Enhancegirl's powers off...what the hell is she?"
"I see you have already indulged your baseness with this one," Féa said, giving Sophie a squeeze with her shadowy tendrils as she said this. "That girl seems to be a magnet for your kind...the eye of a storm of perversion. A catalyst of sin!"

Féa turned her eyes to Leanne. The green-haired girl outright screamed when the Sin Eater turned her gaze upon her, thrashing with pathetic desperation.
"Around you swirls...pettier sin," Féa said, throwing Catherine back down to the floor. "Vanity. Childish vanity...avarice...but saving you will be a much simpler task. Weak-mindedness will prove to be your greatest virtue." She bent down, her face only a few inches from Leanne's. She was so tall that it actually took quite a while for her to lean down sufficiently low. "I wonder if you know what your...friend has imagined doing to that body of yours. Far worse than what she did with this harlot," she said, indicating Sophie. "She wishes to degrade you...but don't be afraid. I do not degrade. I merely...humble." She turned away, flexing her arms, relishing the joy of freedom.

This left Leanne in rather a confused emotional state, to say the least. She'd already been terrified and bewildered...but Catherine had been imagining...doing what? 'Degrading' her? What did the Sin Eater mean by that? She turned to look at Catherine, if only for confirmation that these had been mere taunts. But when she met Catherine's eyes, she saw the shame in them. Even Leanne could see from Catherine's face that everything the Sin Eater said...had been true.
"She...she fantasises about me? About doing stuff to me? H-Hades-y stuff?" She felt like she was going to faint. Catherine...wanted her? She...she'd always sort of known there was something there but it had been like a game, almost. She herself had enjoyed toying with girls she'd captured, feeling them as they weakened in her grasp, but in a sort of...teasing way. She'd never wanted to go much further than that. Catherine had always been more...well, she'd always had darker desires, and their former master had always encouraged them. Now she had those desires for Leanne? To bind her, to strip her, to humiliated and dominate her? The green-haired lass shivered, and she wasn't entirely sure why.
"Oh god..." Catherine's thoughts were far, far simpler. "She's gonna hate me now."

Yet even more than Leanne, even more than Sophie, Falcona lay staring up at the Sin Eater with paralytic terror. It wasn't because she was more cowardly, or anything like that. It was because of what she could see.
"Her...her brain...her heart..." Nothing looked right. The heart pumped, but it wasn't pumping blood. The brain had activity, but there was absolutely no resemblance between its patterns and the patterns of an ordinary human brain. "What...am I looking at? What in the name of God is she?!" Her terror by no means abated when the Sin Eater grabbed her by the ankles, her clawlike fingers long enough to wrap around both of them at once, and hoisted the light, slender woman straight up into the air.

"MMMPHHH!! MMM-MMMMMMPHHHH!!" Felicity screamed, as she was drawn into the Sin Eater's power. With one arm she was hoisted straight off the ground, and Féa's prodigious strength - was it an aspect of her powers, or was she just very strong? - was more than enough to keep her there. She tried to pull herself free, but it was worse than useless: her light, summer dress slipped down, exposing her thighs, her hips, her yellow panties - almost completely exposing her lower body and leaving Falcona distraught with humiliation as well as fear.
"Another 'hero'," the Sin Eater said, with utter disdain. "You are almost worse than those two, with your rancid self-righteousness! Tempting men with your beauty, playing the law-keeper just to invite others to seize you and have their way with you..." She reached out, tracing one fingernail lightly, slowly, up the lightly-tanned skin of Falcona's legs. "A ring? You're married?" She almost seemed to withdraw, as if this information changed something, but she looked up as though she'd heard something above her. "No...I was not mistaken: you are a 'hero.' And your husband permits this? You cuckold him every time you don your hero's garb, you little Jezebel!" With vicious speed, she smacked Falcona across her small, tight rump.
"Nnnhhhpphhh!!" Falcona cried out. "Wh-what? Why did...what's she doing to me?!"
"If there is one purpose," Féa growled, spanking Falcona a second time, "to the black abyss of moral degradation that is a man, it is to keep women in the safety of submission! To protect you from their inevitable fate. Would that your husband were here now, that he might learn how to humble you."

She lowered Falcona back to the ground, slowly enough that her neck was under no threat of damage, but certainly far from gently. Falcona looked at her, her bright, crystal-blue eyes full of fear and rage at what Féa had done.
"Even the f-fucking No-Law Gang didn't treat me like this!" She drew her smooth, bound legs in towards herself, trying to protect what little modesty she felt that she had left. "What is she?" She wished desperately in that moment that she wasn't gagged. She wanted to scream, wanted to scream at the top of her lungs for her husband to rescue her, even if he didn't hear, just to be comforted, even slightly, by the sound of his name. But she couldn't. All she had were wordless moans, joining the chorus of the others'.

"Were you paying attention, Lissandra?" Féa said. Her contralto lifted in pitch just a touch, as she turned to the woman who'd freed her, even with Sophie still bucking and mewing in her shadowy grasp. Lissandra didn't speak, but she inclined her head just enough that it could be seen as a nod. She looked into the eyes of her dark saviour, almost hypnotised. What had those whispers led her to expect? An angel? A god of light, of purifying radiance?
"Perhaps it's just my own foolishness..."
"That...Supremacist of yours..." Féa shook her head. "He humbled you...but not correctly. Obedience is the first step, but not the last. Power over the submissive must be wielded rightly." She stepped towards Lissandra, put her hands on the buxom superhuman's waist, as if drawing her into a dance. "You are precious to me, Lissandra," Féa said, and what would have made Sophie, Shimmer or Ocelot retch in revulsion, made Lissandra's spine tingle. "So few have offered themselves willingly for purification. I will spare you, save you, from your life of violence. You will know only the pleasures of obedience."
"Yes..." Lissandra whispered, falling into a blanket of darkness. "I -"

And then Lissandra saw Sophie. Saw her dismay, her despair. Saw the woman who'd defeated her with such devastating speed and power shaken to her very core with fear. It was not an expression that had shown often on her own face. If there was anything at which Sinistrus was skilled, it was hiding herself - one way or the other. But oh, how many times she'd felt that terror! When the Supremacist made his demands, and soon thereafter she'd be awash with blood, or shame, or both. How he used her, how he took whatever he wanted from her. How he subjugated her for as long as she could remember, and made her -
"No!" Lissandra cried out, backing away. "I...I don't want this! Obedience, submission...you said...you told me you were going to purify me...take away all my evil...let me have a real life! My own life!"

There was a long silence.
"What you want," Féa said, "no longer matters." A bolt of darkness shot out from her palm, striking Sinistrus right in the chest, as fast as a bullet, though thankfully not as deadly. "I shall give you what you need."
"Aaauuuhhhh!!" Sinistrus cried out, feeling the strength drain from her body in an instant. "Uhhh...nnnhhhhh..." Every muscle in her body ached like she'd just run a marathon. Exhausation took her, and she collapsed onto her knees.
"You think after all you've done it would be so easy?" Féa barked. She extended another tendril from her body, as thin and strong as a viper, not as cloudy as the one she bound Sophie with, more solid. She seized Sinistrus with it, wrapping it tightly around her body, pressing her arms against her sides, crushing her legs together, squeezing and wriggling against her buxom chest. Even in her state of exhaustion, Lissandra tried to struggle, but there was vanishingly little she could do. "If I were simply to remove all the evil from you, Lissandra, there would be nothing left. So I shall fill you with virtue - my virtue." Lissandra opened her mouth to speak, but Féa's tendril clamped it shut. Darkness enshrouded her, she who had been looking for redemption in all the wrong places, and though she moaned, and struggled, it felt...normal. To be bound and lost in darkness. Lissandra felt her rebellious instinct subside. She had, after all, always belonged to a master: it was safe, and familiar - indeed, it was all she had ever known. And this servitude, perhaps, would at least be a little easier. Not having to think...just giving in...surrendering...

Lissandra seeing Sophie's terror had catalysed her all-too-brief revolt. But Sophie had seen her too. This woman who'd arranged the release of the most dangerous man in the world. Who'd unleashed Gridiron and Dextrus on her. Who'd drugged her, bound her, and quite possibly denied her forever the answers to her heart's most burningly urgent questions. This manipulated, abused woman. This self-destructive, submissive victim.

And then suddenly it didn't matter. It didn't matter that the Sin Eater could destroy her. It didn't matter that she was scared, or that she'd already been more brave and resourceful than most people would in a lifetime. It didn't even matter that she had no idea what she could possibly do in her current state. There were only three things that mattered:
There was a monster: twisted, evil - who needed dearly to be stopped.
There was a damsel in distress: broken, abused - who needed dearly to be saved.
There was a hero: enduring, unrelenting - whose courage would never run dry.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"DIIIEEEE!!" Catastrophe screamed, letting loose a gold-white column of raw energy at the man who'd taken Max from him. It struck the Supremacist's hastily formed shield, surprising the Australian with its strength. But there was a world of difference between the two men, and Martin did not feel threatened in the least. "I'll kill you! I'll kill you, Supremacist!"
"Mate, if everyone who'd made that threat had followed up on it, I'd have been dead a thousand times by now." Martin had no patience for small fry, not with Nucleon at his heels. He threw out a shimmering blue disc of razor sharp energy, attempting simply to bisect Catastrophe and have done with it.

But Catastrophe was not the same man as he'd been before. As the disc approached, he slammed his hands into the ground, leaving twin craters as the seismic energy newly at his command rocketed him into the air. Jason once again summoned his inborn power, and fired another powerful blast of light at the Supremacist, but not only did Martin block it, he redirected it at his other enemy. Bleeding and tired, Ivan only just managed to throw himself out of the way in time.
"Who is this idiot? Why is he interfering?!" Ivan thought. He looked up, with half a mind to swat this gnat himself. But no, he hadn't been mistaken - he was wielding Angermax's powers. Screaming with rage, Jason threw down twin bursts of terrakinetic energy. Martin glided back to avoid them - but then he wasn't the target. They hit the ground, and two vast columns of earth erupted from the spot they'd struck. The Supremacist blocked this too, with great sawblades to carve the attack into dust, but even he was taken aback by the strength Catastrophe was wielding.

There was, of course, one rather insistent question remaining for Ivan. If this idiot was wielding Max's powers...what had happened to Max? He'd mentioned that his powers could be passed onto another person, as his had been passed to him, but why would he give them up? And how would this newbie know how to use them so well?
"Ah." Now the rage, the seething hatred made sense. Max was dead - and he'd given his power to Catastrophe, his old leader, who'd be well aware of what could be done with Max's abilities. Slowly, Ivan smiled - not in pleasure that Max was dead, though in all honesty he barely knew the man - but because there was another coal on the fire of his loathing. Using the space that this new player on the scene had given him, he took a breath, let the pleasure of his strength overcome the pain of his injuries, and ignited his power once again.

"You jumped-up little shit!" Martin barked, lashing at Catastrophe with a ribbon of energy. The convict responded with a pulse of terrakinetic energy to defend himself, but Angermax's powers were hardly in the same league as the Supremacist's. Slicing through the bubble, Catastrophe was struck with a blow that almost chopped his sternum in half. His bubble had kept the blow from being fatal, but - shaking with pain, he collapsed to the ground.
"Urrghhh..." His aura of rage faded, the high of his righteous fury giving way to pain and grief. Jason shook, almost collapsing completely. For a moment, just a moment, he'd felt like there was some purpose to him. Power! New, vibrant, brilliant power filling him, an ecstasy of righteous, vengeful fury. To kill the Supremacist and finally, finally count for something!

But no. As nice a story as it might have been, even if he'd wielded the combined strength of the entire Catastrophe Gang he wouldn't have been able to take on the Supremacist. He'd been a failure as a thief, a failure as a supervillain, and - sure enough - a failure as an avenging hero. He looked up, saw Zjarrus wreathed in nuclear flame, pirouetting through the Supremacist's attacks, retaliating with a strength that Catastrophe would never be able to match, or even approach. And then, from the Eastern side of the island, Hydrocita. Not as powerful as Zjarrus, perhaps, but a titan in her own right, drawing - it seemed - the entire ocean to herself, seeking to match the thousand mighty arms of the Supremacist with an equally dizzying display, even if one not quite so potent. The plumes of lava ripped up from the earth by the Supremacist were beginning to subside now, thanks to her efforts, bubbling instead of raging. Catastrophe took a moment - not thinking there was much else he could do even with his new terrakinetic powers - to admire the molten stone. He found it hard to believe that the insanely hot liquid was stone.
"Hey, wait a minute...!"
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Hammerblow ran. He didn't know that Angermax was dead, so he ran, and ran and ran. He smashed through doors, through walls, barrelling security guards out of his way as he searched for someone - anyone - who could help. Catastrophe had looked so upset. Hammerblow didn't like seeing Catastrophe upset. He wanted to help. And Angermax...there'd been so much blood. Angermax had always been nice to him.

He'd found the infirmary empty, so he was rushing around almost aimlessly. It was as he was heading towards the high-security section - not because he had much reason to, but simply because he had a feeling that somewhere harder to get to would be more likely to yield results. It was there that he came across two men. One, the larger - almost as large as Hammerblow himself, was completely unconscious. The other, a short, white man was clutching his nose, from which blood was gushing. A pair of handcuffs lay on the ground, forced open. Hammerblow recognised them: they were guards, but he didn't know their names. He certainly didn't know that they also went by the names Pincushion and Red-Alert.
"Have you guys seen a doctor anywhere?" Hammerblow asked. With bloodshot, bewildered eyes, he looked up at the massive superhuman. "Oh! Or...maybe a tall, blonde, muscly man in a suit?" At this, Red-Alert laughed.
"F-funny you should say that!" Liam's face lit up.
"Where is he? Please, hurry and tell me: my friend is hurt."
"You think I give a shit about your -"

Hammerblow was not the most powerful superhuman in the world. Tough? Certainly. Strong? Absolutely. But he would have been trounced by Valora in an arm wrestling contest, could be hurt even by people only as physically powerful as Enhancegirl. But he was much, much stronger than Red Alert. He grabbed him by the chest, and slammed him up into the ceiling.
"Don't waste my time! Tell me now! If Angermax dies because of you I'll rip your head off!!" Hammerblow punctuated this threat by bellowing as loud as he could in Red-Alert's face. He did not need further persuasion.
"Th-the guy you're looking for...Caduceus...he ran down that way...back where the Supremacist was - aaahhh!" Having obtained sufficient information, Hammerblow dropped him right to the ground.
"Thanks," he said. He meant it, too.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"I might have known," the Sin Eater said. "I might have known it was too good to be true." She had forced Lissandra against a wall, her buxom chest heaving against the cold metal of the high-security cell. "Superhuman women are all the same."
"Mmmphh...mmphhh..." Lissandra whimpered, a cloud of helplessness settling over her - no, it was within her, in her veins. Her silvery skin grew more and more exposed, as Féa tore her stolen prison uniform from her in strips, gradually exposing more and more of her womanly figure. But the Sin Eater was not merely stripping her: she was using the strips to bind her. Already she was gagged by bright orange cloth thrust between her lips, and Féa was putting the finishing touches on binding her arms, box-tying them, keeping her captive totally restrained.

As Lissandra felt her slinky, feminine hips, her sparkling, silvery thighs exposed, she wondered at what point she might have escaped what seemed an almost inevitable fate of subjugation and servitude.
"After last year," she thought. "After the battle of the Seacouver Needle...when he was imprisoned...I should have done it then...I should have just...died..." She felt her knees cinched together, her slim ankles constrained - she was bound hand and foot. She was turned by her now naked shoulders, and looked down at the floor, not even blushing - she was so used to shame, after all.
"Ugh...you reek of it..." She pulled Lissandra's neck to the side, sniffed it. "I smell it all over you...your villainy...your sin..." Suddenly, she backed away, though keeping one arm on her captive's neck to hold her in place. "You! You are the worst of all! The others at least wear their harlotry openly, but you...you feign submission! Really you seek only to draw others into your tendrils, you deceitful...silvery...temptress..." She ran her hand up Lissandra's stomach to her buxom chest, spreading her long fingers over both of her captive's bosoms.

"Frrrhhmmgghhh!!" The other woman in Féa's grip, the lithe, pale redhead who'd so nearly prevented her escape, continued to writhe in her shadowy grasp. Féa looked back at her, flashing her dark eyes to get Sophie to quieten down - but she found eyes just as fierce staring back at her.
"Somehow," Sophie thought, "somehow I am getting out of this - and I am gonna give you the beatdown I should have given you a year ago!" She saw that Lissandra was looking at her with a kind of sleepy-eyed confusion.
"Why are you fighting?" she seemed to say.
"For you, jackass," Sophie seemed to respond. "And for them."

By this she meant the hero and the criminals who had, one way or another, ended up in Féa's clutches. Leanne, so sumptuous with her thick green hair and ripe breasts, openly weeping with fear. Catherine, taller, stronger, more solid - but still a very attractive woman, unable to comfort her friend, assured that that friendship had been destroyed. And then there was Felicity, the only one there for whom there was not the slightest sense that they deserved their fate. She closed her eyes, trying to collect herself enough to think of some way out. She had made several attempts to loosen Catherine's bonds surreptitiously, but Féa always noticed and stopped her with a withering gaze. Besides, when she thought of what Féa had done to her - exposing and spanking her - she pulsed with humiliation. She didn't want to endure that again. In her terror, and misery, her only hope was a false one, surely. He was probably dead - the Supremacist had every reason to kill him once he was healed, after all.

So why, when she heard the sound of rapid footsteps, did she think first of him? Well, that was obvious, really. She wanted it to be him, stupid as it was to wish for it. She didn't turn her head - no matter the distance, she'd have been able to see who it really was. No doubt some goon of the Supremacist's or something. She wanted to imagine that it was her husband, that he'd come in after he like he had all those years ago - when she'd been Sophie's age and he'd found her in the No Law Gang's clutches.
"Admit it," she'd teased him once, "when you found me all tied up...so helpless and grateful to my big, manly saviour...you were thinking 'jackpot'!"
"I was not," he'd huffily replied. "I was hoping that you weren't hurt, and nursing quite a few injuries of my own. You were the one who slipped your number into my pocket while I was carrying you to safety!"
"Oh, damn you, you virtuous bore. Can't you be just a little more...Heathcliffe-y every now and again?"
"Fine," he'd said, drawing her light body onto his lap with those strong arms of his. "Er...the moment I saw you, my first instinct was to have my wicked way with you then and there. But I held off to enjoy the thrill of the chase and know the pleasure of conquering your maidenly virtue. Better?"
"Oh, darling, I'd stopped being a maiden many times over when first you laid those eyes on me..." She'd snuggled closer, lifting her legs so that her dress would expose her legs a little more. "But yes, that's much better..."

"Where is she?!" Felicity imagined him saying, bursting in heroically. "Where's my wife?!" It took Felicity a moment, just a moment, to realise that she had not imagined this. She sobbed - and even then didn't open her eyes. She wanted the moment, to hold it, to treasure it - just in case it wasn't real. But she couldn't restrain herself for long. Her eyelids fluttered open: and there he was.
"I don't know what kind of sick nonsense the Supremacist has got you cooking up here, but it stops now!" He looked exhausted. His face and fists were smeared with blood. He'd thrown off his suit jacket, revealing his garish magenta bodysuit underneath. But he didn't look silly, not to Felicity. He looked like her hero. He glanced to the side - and he saw his wife. Bound, gagged, helpless and afraid. "You...you'll pay for this, you freak of nature!"

Naturally, every woman in the room reacted fairly dramatically to Caduceus' arrival. Leanne was bewildered, Catherine had a twinge of hope, and Sophie immediately started calculating how she might turn it to her advantage. Yet none of them - even Felicity - reacted quite as strongly as Féa.
"Y-you...you...!" And then she screamed. Not in terror, not exactly, but in hate. It was like she was trying to kill him with her voice alone. Still screeching, she left Lissandra entirely, and leaped forward hands outstretched towards Caduceus, like an animal. Sophie realised that this was the first time she had seen the Sin Eater interact with a man - and while her 'philosophy' was obviously hypocritical garbage, her professed detestation for men was no lie. Sophie had never seen anyone hate anything as much in her life.

"Jesus Christ!" Simon gasped, seeing this...banshee leap towards him. He was almost disturbed out of his fury - but his guilt saw it back in. He'd caused this. He'd healed the Supremacist. Anything - everything that happened was his fault. He wasn't going to be intimidated when there was a chance he could make up for some of it! He drew back his arm, and struck, catching Féa straight across the jaw. So strong was his blow, mundane in origin though his strength may have been, that he drew blood, and her head snapped back so hard it looked like it had given her whiplash.

But she didn't stop. All seven and a half feet of her collided with the astonished healer at full speed, sending them both tumbling to the ground.
"Filthy! Vile! Wretched! Get it away! Get it away from me!" The two wrestled on the ground, grappling viciously, artlessly with each other. As they clashed, it seemed that Caduceus might just have had the edge in sheer bodily strength...but Féa was not so limited as he was. As he tried to get both her arms trapped with one of his so that he could knock her out, she seemed to recall that she was more than human. A tendril of darkness burst from her stomach, as thick as a tree, grabbing him around the midsection, and smashing him up into the ceiling. Stunned, he tried to use his healing powers on himself, but she wasn't having it. She threw him down, back up, and down again, sreeching with animalistic venom all the while.
"NNNMMPPPHHHH!!" Felicity screamed. "She's killing him! She's killing him!" Indeed, while at first he'd at least been trying to protect himself with his hands, he was now getting alarmingly close to being limp.
"Dirty! It's dirty, and filthy and full of sickness and lust! I will destroy it!"
"HEY!"

Even Féa, even the Sin Eater herself, realised that she had made a mistake. She turned, slowly, a different, more personal hatred seeping into her countenance. She'd been so absorbed with desire to...purify Lissandra, and then so consumed with existential loathing for Caduceus, that she'd lost track of the maiden she'd bound only in her own darkness. When she'd used her powers against Caduceus, she'd simply dropped her. Now the redhead was staring her down with a weary fury.
"Don't you dare raise your hand against me you sinful - "
"Oh, would you just shut the fuck up?!" Sophie shouted. "You know what? When I first met you, you scared the shit out of me. But I've come a long fuckin' way since then. There's worse monsters than you in the world, you psychotic lunatic - and I've even beaten some of them."
"Do you intend to intimidate me with those words?" Féa said.
"Nah, not really." Sophie put on a mirthless grin. "That was just me psyching myself up. This is the part that's meant to intimidate you." She centred herself, took in a long breath, and - after shooting an urgent look at Falcona - then pronounced with more fire than ever she had before the word that had unlocked for her this world of terrors and of wonders. "Enhance!"

For a moment, it did not appear to Féa as if she were fighting a person, even a superhuman. As she leapt through the flash that brought on her power and the dress and mask that were its markers, Enhancegirl appeared as a gold and orange flame, alight with feminine strength. Realising that she was facing a genuine threat, she tried everything at once: she tried to switch off Enhancegirl's powers with her ray that imitated the energy Sophie used to transform; she tried to strike her with energy draining bolts of darkness; she tried to grab her with tendrils of black energy.

Any one of these attacks would have been enough to put Sophie down. One punch from Caduceus, one paralysing strike from Sinistrus or Falcona, one glob of binding gel from Caitiff, and Enhancegirl would have been defeated. But she was just so damned hard to hit! The Sin Eater kept Enhancegirl away from her body, but she just couldn't get her. To her irritation, Enhancegirl was even more wriggly than she had been before, by orders of magnitude. For when the two had battled before, Sophie had not discovered her nervous system's capacity for independent action. It was like the difference between a Howitzer shell and a guided missile.

But the Sin Eater was still a tremendously strong superhuman. Was she the Supremacist? Certainly not. In terms of raw power she was much weaker than Dextrus, whom Sophie had already bested that day. But...she just had so much at her disposal. Spears of darkness burst from her, a draining coldness seeming to sap Sophie's strength even untouched by Féa's attacks. Beams of light missed Sophie by centimetres, which would rob her of her powers if they even grazed her. But her agility didn't fail her. Her focus didn't fail her. She was no longer someone for whom victory was an occasional, pleasant surprise. She was Enhancegirl, one of Seacouver's most renowned protectors. This was no time for modesty and caution. This was a time for pride. She gritted her teeth, and turned to face her foe dead on. She clenched her fists as tight as she could, and decided to see just how powerful she really was.

She ran straight forward, closing the gap between herself and her enemy with a pace that an Olympic sprinter would have respected. The subtlest of dodges, the tiniest adjustments to the direction of her momentum: she used the maximum of her calculative ability to provide the minimum of movement. Féa was confounded. Each tendril, each bolt of darkness seemed as if it should have hit, but the orange and gold blur just wasn't playing by the rules. Closing in, she struck the Sin Eater in the back of the knee, and snap-kicked her in the stomach. Sophie's enemy lashed out with a tendril, no longer seeking to capture, but simply to crush. Stumbling back, Féa lost all sense of subtlety, and threw out her power in a cannonade of light and darkness. It took a second for Enhancegirl to calculate that she just couldn't avoid all of it. It took her a further eighth of a second to realise that she didn't have to.
"I have you!" Féa shouted, letting out yet another beam of transformative energy. It struck Sophie in the chest, and in a dull, draining burst of beige light, stripped her power from her once again. Féa grinned - it was over.

Except, it wasn't. For while the Sin Eater's imitation of the energy Sophie used to turn her powers on and off certainly had a deleterious effect on the lithe redhead, what it did not affect was momentum. Yes, Sophie felt her powers slip away from her, and a vacuum beneath her seemed to pull away the strength of her limbs, but she was already well on course. Already having exploded forwards, she fought through the fatigue that Féa's powers brought on, and socked her straight across the jaw.

"Auughh!" Féa grunted, stumbling backwards, dizzy, reeling. She tried to recover, but Sophie was on her again. A knee shot to Féa's stomach, a crushing elbow strike to her jaw, keeping her off balance and gasping in pain.
"Enhance!" Sophie shouted one last time - and realised her mistake. Switching rapidly in and out of her powers was not something that she'd ever really had to do before, not with quite so much frequency as this. It had never felt like turning her powers on took any energy - but it did. As her powers reactivated it was like someone had sprayed her with sleeping gas, so weak did she feel. "Unnnhhh...!" she moaned, collapsing to her knees, gasping, panting with exhaustion. "No...no!"

"Why do you fight me?" Féa said, standing back to her full height. "I do not ask merely because it is useless. But you who have known the sweetness of being among my brides...how could you possibly not want to return to that state?" She looked briefly at Falcona and the others, saw them wriggling closely against each other. It was...pleasing to see their desperate acknowledgement of her supremacy.
"If you have to ask," Sophie panted, scowling, "you'll never know." Despite the weakness of her body, her senses were unclouded, and still as brilliantly sharp as ever. And so it was that on the cusp of yet another defeat, Sophie perceived something which made her grin.
"I shall - BLLMMGGHHH!!" the Sin Eater cried out, gagged and blinded by a thick wad of sticky, pink gel.

"I don't know who the hell you are, lady," Catherine said, standing unbound, "but something tells me you're in dire need of getting your ass beat." One moment, one brief aside had meant the difference between victory and loss. Sophie, upon throwing down the gauntlet to the Sin Eater, had glanced at Falcona, just for a second. With her sight, more powerful by far even than Enhancegirl's she could perceive the most infinitesimally subtle of gestures - and she'd seen Sophie incline her head towards Caitiff. Had Sophie been trying to defeat Féa herself? Of course - but she'd also been buying time. And with Féa completely distracted, Falcona's super-sight - and a little deft wriggling - had been more than enough to free Caitiff.

"GRRAAAUUUGGHHH!!" Féa screamed, tearing the gel off her face with both hands. But by then it was too late. Taking down a healer wasn't all that hard - but keeping one down, when they could use their powers on themselves, was another matter. Caduceus hauled himself up, bellowed like a bull, and shoulder-checked the Sin Eater as hard as he possibly could. "Urrgghhh!" She was thrown back by the force of the blow, with Caduceus himself tumbling clumsily onto the ground once he'd shoved her, slamming hard into the open shell of her stasis tank. "Unnnhhh..." Féa groaned. That was one injury too many. She decided that she would suspend her mission for the moment, and restart it when she had gathered more loyalists to her cause once more. As for those she faced now? They would simply die.

"You vile -" The hypocrisy of the allegation the Sin Eater was to have made was rendered, largely, moot when a silver, heeled boot collided directly with her temple. Her head cracked back against the steel casing of the tank, which, combined with the force of the initial kick, left the Sin Eater in a daze. Barely able to keep her head straight, Féa looked up at Enhancegirl with an almost innocent surprise in her dark eyes.
"Eat this, you twisted freak," Enhancegirl spat, before drawing back her arm, and punching the Sin Eater so hard that she almost broke her wrist. The giantess slumped back, completely unconscious, and Sophie slammed the container shut, trapping her once again. "Got you! I got you! I fucking got you!" She stared at her defeated enemy, feeling the throbbing pain in her right hand, the exhaustion in her limbs, the knife-edge on which her bravery was resting. She turned her gaze up at the Sin Eater, at this...humanoid abyss, this black hole into which all selfhood was drained, chewed up and destroyed. She screamed at it, a blood-curdling battle-cry - and sank exhausted to her knees.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Zjarrus, keep the pressure up!" Hydrocita shouted. "Go hot, not strong!" The strategy was a sound one. Ivan would use his power to burn away the oxygen around the Supremacist, and then Farah would wrap him in a bubble of water, suffocating him into submission. She'd used the strategy before with Nova - now there was a woman who knew how to fight in a team.

But Ivan wasn't exactly a team player. He might not even have listened to his leader at the start of the battle, but now, after he and his old enemy had spent quite some time gouging pieces out of each other? No. Martin was his.
"Out of the way, Farah!" he bellowed, catapulting himself beneath his enemy. Farah growled at him, but obeyed, and was, admittedly, rather glad that she had. The Supremacist was hit with a blast that could have been measured in the megaton range, an earth-shattering explosion that left Farah's ears ringing.

But it wasn't enough. The Supremacist formed a multi-wedged barrier that directed much of the force of Ivan's blast around him, and absorbed the rest. He replied with a blast of his own - no shape, no form, just pure, raw power. This was much more tiring than shaping his strength into constructs, but he'd lost his patience long ago. Seeing the attack coming, Ivan tried to push his power forward into a barrier, but his abilities weren't naturally defensive. He stopped the blow from killing him, sure, but it pushed him down, down, down, not just slamming him into the ground, but crushing him against it. He howled with pain, and when the attack finally dissipated, he couldn't get up.
"Ngghhh...no...I..will kill him...!" Ivan gasped, but he couldn't walk, much less use his powers.

Above him, the Supremacist was panting. He hadn't use this much strength in a fight since his battle with the Indigo Titan - and he'd lost that fight, badly. He turned his attention to Hydrocita, the master of raging waters. Even now, fear didn't show on her face, even alone against him, bereft of her most powerful ally. He was impressed - she didn't seem cocky, she just wasn't scared. He even considered giving her just one more chance to join him...but decided against it. She wasn't all that good looking, after all.

And then Martin noticed something. The spumes of lava he'd torn out of the earth weren't dying down. They had been, but now they were flowing more strongly again. The little islands of rock that had begun to form where the lava had disgorged itself into the water were now shifting, and breaking apart from pressure beneath them. Martin didn't see the short man with spiky hair standing on the shoreline, wrapped in a white aura. He didn't see him with his hands outstretched, channeling his terrakinetic powers into the water. He only saw when - all at once - the plumes of lava exploded at him like the wrath of Vulcan himself.
"What?!" From all sides, the burning stone flowed at him. He raised barriers in all directions, but the heat...and those noxious fumes! He felt dizzy. He created fans with his powers to cool himself, but with his barriers up so tight he had nowhere to direct the hot air away. Who was doing this? Even the strongest terrakinetics he'd encountered - and there were quite a few - had never shown the capacity to control magma like this. Only Citizen-Stone, who'd given a young, inexperienced Martin one of the hardest fights of his life.

Hydrocita couldn't take advantage of this sudden attack. The heat was too great, and all she could do was stop herself from being roasted. She looked down, and saw the figure wreathed in white energy, but she was too far away to see in detail. She thought, therefore, that she recognised him.
"Max? Jesus, I didn't know you could do that!" She was filled with admiration for him. This was perfect. Leave the scouts, and stealth specialists and administration to the Pauldron. Her team had what it needed: power! And while she might not have been able to endure the heat, there was one who could.

"AAAUUUGGHHHH!!" Ignoring his pain, ignoring his injuries, Ivan gathered all of his hatred inside himself, and rocketed up towards Martin. He weaved through the plumes of molten rock, his powers granting him impressive resistance to heat and pressure. At the last second, Martin saw him, and raised twin swords of light to defend himself - but he hadn't given them enough power, and Ivan just blasted past them. Martin made one last ditch attempt to escape Catastrophe's lava plumes, and flew upwards, but Ivan fired through the lava after him. Not seeing the attack until much too late, Martin quickly threw up a skin-thin defensive shield around himself, not having time to take the focus to withdraw his other constructs back into himself. Of course, he was so powerful that even this fraction his strength would have been more than enough to see off most superhumans. But then, Ivan wasn't most superhumans. The high-heat, high-pressure shot hit the Supremacist and exploded, obscuring him in a great cloud of flame. Ivan moved back, knowing that Martin could use this to his advantage if he'd survived.

"Y-you..!" He had survived. But there was one rather significant alteration that Ivan's last attack had made to him.
"Oh yes! Oh, yes, yes, yes! Ahaha! AHAHAA!" Ivan laughed - he hooted, he giggled, he pointed and cackled. "Need a hand there, Martin? Ahahahahahhahahaa!" Zjarrus hadn't killed the Supremacist, but he had blown the man's right arm clean off his body. He laughed, and laughed, and laughed - until Martin looked at him. Then it wasn't quite so funny anymore.
"I'll turn you inside out! I'll force feed you your own entrails and make your family watch! I'll kill you!! IIIIIVAAAAAAAAANNNNNN!!" His power exploded out of him in twisted, half-thought forms, his blue light filling the very sky.
"Ah," the Pretender thought, watching from far below. "So, we're all dead, then."
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Catherine tried to speak to Leanne several times as she untied her. Each time she did, however, she lost her nerve. The most precious friendship she had - thanks to some less than stellar life choices - and it had been ruined. But, Catherine thought, perhaps this was for the best. She'd never have had the moral courage to get Leanne away from her...but now she wouldn't have to. She wouldn't be able to poison her. She'd speak to Smokin', get her to persuade Leanne to take some adult-learning courses while she was still inside. She wouldn't listen to Catherine anymore, that was for sure. She finished untying Leanne's hands, letting the lovely, green-haired lass take her own gag off. This she did, after a bit of fumbling, and Catherine turned away - but she felt a soft, light-brown hand clasping her own.
"I'm really dumb. You know that, right?" Catherine looked back. Leanne wasn't quite looking her in the eye. "I'm really, really stupid. Like, a total bimbo and shit."
"Leanne, don't be -"
"I mean it! I'm really stupid!" She squeezed Catherine's hand tighter. "I'm so stupid that even when I know something I don't know it."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean - I mean..." She came closer, spoke the next few words so quietly that Catherine almost couldn't hear her. "I mean...maybe I - I don't mind that you want to...do stuff with me..."
"Don't. Leanne, please don't."
"Why?" She pulled her hand back. "Was she lying? Don't you...want me?"
"I do!" Both women were somewhat surprised by the fervour with which Catherine said this. "But you shouldn't."
"Stop telling me what to do all the time!" Leanne snapped. "Well...I mean, don't, 'cause you're always right...but...not this time, okay! You say you're worse than me, but...who was the one helping the Supremacist escape and - and who was the one fighting alongside a fucking superhero?" Catherine opened her mouth, but she was happy to find that she had no answer.

At the same time, having spared only a second to do yet another patch-job on himself, Caduceus ran to his wife. No Alexander the Great, he tore at her bonds, roughly stripping them off her body. The instant that Felicity felt the relief of freedom in her svelte limbs, she threw her arms around her husband, not even kissing him, just burying her face in his chest and drinking in the smell of him as he embraced her.
"I couldn't..." Simon said, hoarsely, "I couldn't let them hurt you...I'm sorry..."
"I know, darling, I know..." Felicity said, kissing his neck, feeling his blood trickle from his face onto her hair.
"He's free because of me," Simon said, pulling away slightly. "Whatever happens is on my -"
"Oh, shut up, you unbearable man!" Felicity barked. "They captured your wife, and essentially put a gun to your head. For God's sake, Simon, it's not your fault. It's -" She had been about to say 'it's hers', referring to Sinistrus...but then, things were a little more complicated than that, weren't they?

"Mmmphh..." Sinistrus looked upwards. She didn't want to look at any of them. She didn't want to look at anything. Her hope, her last hope had proven to be not only illusory, but it would have been an even worse fate than she would have suffered under the Supremacist's yoke. She wished that it had never occurred to her that there had been an alternative to the life she'd grown up with. She lay there in her bondage, stripped of her clothes - and of everything. She heard footsteps coming towards her, and saw Enhancegirl standing over her. The redhead knelt down, and began untying her, the strips of fabric easily unwound with Sophie's advanced senses helping her.
"You're the one who let her out, right?" Sophie said, inclining her head towards the Sin Eater. Sinistrus slowly nodded. "Can you turn her stasis pod back on?"
"...yes." She got up. All eyes were on her, and not because she was using her field of focus. As she reactivated the Sin Eater's stasis pod, she wondered what she could possibly do with herself now. She couldn't go back to him...not now. The first step, at least, would be to escape the island. The Supremacist would surely destroy everything. She activated her field of ignorance, and made to slip away. "Perhaps," she thought, "I was wrong. Perhaps I might -"

A hand on her shoulder arrested her escape. There was only one who could have seen through her field: Enhancegirl.
"Where are you going?" Sinistrus didn't answer. "Were you gonna go back to the Supremacist?"
"My decision likely won't matter anyway," Lissandra replied. "What can stop him now?"
"Not too many things," Enhancegirl replied, "but a walking atom bomb might help." Lissandra's eyes widened.
"Nucleon is here?"
"Yeah. With a couple other badasses too. And he still has to deal with, like, the Pauldron and the Titan at some point - by which I mean, him taking over the world or whatever isn't a done deal. You don't have to go back to him. Do the same thing Ivan Nazarov did!" Lissandra glared at her, but then her expression softened.
"You live up to what people say about you, Enhancegirl," Sinistrus said.
"Oh yeah? And what's that?"
"You're kind." Sophie was almost touched. There was something very odd about this woman. Even when she'd captured Sophie, even when she'd thought herself entirely on the side of the Supremacist, there had been an odd...gentility to her. Sophie wondered what kind of person she'd have been if she hadn't been the Supremacist's slave her whole life.

"But your kindness is misdirected," Lissandra went on. "She was...the Sin Eater was my last chance. Without her to -"
"Don't you dare," Enhancegirl hissed. "Don't you even fucking dare start talking like that, I swear to god. I've seen some really weird shit today. I've seen people that I thought were just sick perverts acting like heroes. I've seen lowlife crooks who've completely turned their lives around. I've seen an ex-terrorist playboy and a drug addict standing up to the worst monster in the fucking world. And you?" She laughed. "Someone so sick of being...whatever it was he made you be, that you were willing to give yourself to a fucking demon! No, wait," she said, seeing Lissandra recoil, "I'm not insulting you. You..." She didn't quite know how to go on. "What the hell do you have to say to her?" she found herself thinking. "What could you possibly say to someone like this? Besides, are you so perfect and good? She had the Supremacist...and you had Ocelot." She almost let go, almost just let Sinistrus leave - but then she realised. That was it.

"I know, a little, what it's like," Sophie said. "To be...to think that someone's control over you is what you want, to get sucked in by them. It feels like you just kinda...have to be theirs, right?" Lissandra didn't reply. "Well, you've already done the hardest thing. You've already worked out that you don't actually want it. Just for that, you get respect...for, like, whatever that's worth."
"Stop," Lissandra said. "You don't realise who you're talking to. You don't understand what I am!"
"You've done some awful shit. I'm fucking sure of it. You have a huge amount to make up for, and you'd better spend the rest of your god-damned life making up for it. But you're a human being," Sophie said. "You said you wanted your own life, right? Well you know what'd be a really fucking cathartic way to start that off?" She took her hand off Lissandra's shoulder. "Helping us put that shitstain down once and for all." Lissandra looked at her for a moment, looked deep into her brilliant green eyes. Goodness. She could see it. Real goodness...genuine compassion.
"How?"
"Actually," Sophie said with a sly smile, "it's a pretty simple idea."
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Supremacist was...not best pleased by the loss of his arm. He screamed in agony and rage, throwing his power all about him in the shape of wrathful demons with great jaws that sought to chew up anything, anyone...but Ivan Nazarov in particular.
"No-one beats me! No-one ever beats me!" Martin screamed. "I'm the strongest man alive, d'you hear? I'm the strongest man alive!" His demons flew in all directions, smashing up parts of the Pen-Supreme, tearing cranes off of docks in the mile-away Seacouver Harbour and hurling them at his enemies.

It was one of these that nearly crushed Catastrophe, trapping him under a half-tonne of twisted metal. He shielded himself partially by using his native power to soften the blow of the impact, but it trapped him nevertheless. Losing focus, the lava he'd been controlling died down, and dropped, spent, back into the depths.
"Oh sh-shit!" The Pretender saw this. Dashing over at full speed, he tried to lift the crane off Jason, but wasn't quite strong enough. But he had an idea, and stepped out of his armour. Using his own superhuman strength to lift the metal just a little, he mentally commanded his empty armour to drag Jason out. He had to control all the movements by thought, which was not easy, though the armour's movements were starting to get a little more fluid. "Hey...are y-you okay?" Jason didn't respond. Leaping back into his armour, he performed some basic scans - Catastrophe would live, thankfully. "Unless the Supremacist kills everyone, of course..."

It certainly seemed as if he would. Even Zjarrus and Hydrocita could barely defend themselves. With Hydrocita draining so much of the sea around them, and with all the rock that the Supremacist had hauled out of the sea bed, there was actually a path to the mainland that could be traversed on foot. And, sure enough, quite a few of the convicts had decided to take that chance and escape. But if any of them had loyalty to the Supremacist - and some of them did - Martin didn't care. In his howling rage, he swept his fanged constucts over the land bridge.
"Holy shit!" Greyhand screeched, as the man in front of him had his head completely torn off.
"Greyhand, was this such a good -"
"You shut the fuck up!" Raymond barked. "No-one contradicts me, or I do to you what I did to the Generator! Now keep going!" The group of men he'd roped into escaping with him grumbled, but kept going. "You just cover my escape, Supremacist...but this is Greyhand's day!" He kept running, even as the world seemed to crumble around him. Just as Enhancegirl's courage would not fail her, neither would Raymond's narcissism fail him.

"You're all weak!" Martin screamed. "You're all too weak! None of you deserve to live in my world! None of you! It's for me! It's only for me!" And then he saw her. He felt her, even, before that. He found his head turning towards the shoreline, saw the hole in the side of the prison that Angermax and Pretender had made, saw her stepping out, lightly, with that slinky-hipped grace and beauty that he'd watched flower over the years, waiting just long enough for it to ripen completely. It was her. Dextrus might have been his iron fist, but this...this was his dagger. His finely crafted, perfectly moulded dagger: a deadly blade to all others...but whom he'd made sure he could sheathe at any time. Who knew that Stipan's daughter would have proved to be so useful...and so lovely?

And she was barely dressed! Her uniform had been torn off her. Her long legs, her ripe chest, her taut stomach...all were right there in view. He hadn't seen a naked woman in a long time, and he was so...drawn to her that he could barely even feel the pain of the stump that Ivan had left him in place of an arm. He would take her. He would take her right then and there, and she would be his obedient little whore, like always. She looked up at him. She didn't speak, but he knew what she was thinking. He just knew:
"I'm yours, master..."

"What's going on?" Hydrocita gasped, not from shock, but just because she was so damned tired. "Who is that?" She didn't understand why the Supremacist was just..staring at her. His constructs stopped swirling, the carnage finally ceasing. None of them got it...none of them, that is, except for Ivan.
"Is that Lissandra?" It had been a long time, but that hair, and that skin were hard to forget. "Is she -?" And then a moment - just the briefest, tiniest of glances. She was so far away from him that he couldn't be sure, but she looked right at him. Then he understood. Then he knew what to do.

Igniting his powers on which he'd already put such desperate strain, he rocketed forward as fast as he possibly could, hurtling like a cannonball towards the Supremacist. At the very, very last moment, Martin noticed him, and Ivan saw glimmers of a cerulean barrier rising - but he was too fast! He hurtled straight towards his old enemy, triggered an explosion from his elbow - and smashed his fist right through the Supremacist's stomach.

"Ah...aauuuhhh!" Martin didn't scream exactly. It was more like a moan. He looked down, shaking, seeing the bloody wound, seeing Ivan's arm stuck through him. He looked up into the pale face and yellow eyes of his protegé, and saw a look of equal shock on Ivan's face. But Ivan didn't get his first thoughts: "She...she betrayed me...?"
"I...did it...I did it..." Ivan muttered, almost inaudibly. "I did it! I killed you! Me, Ivan Nazarov! I did it!" He started laughing, tears welling up in his eyes. "I did it!" Quiveringly, Martin raised his arm, but Ivan wouldn't allow it. "No! No more fighting! You're dead, Martin!" To prove his point, he spewed nuclear flame from his mouth and evaporated Martin's remaining arm. "Yes! YYYEEEESSS!!"

Withdrawing his arm from Martin's stomach, Ivan grabbed the crippled, bleeding old man by the back of the neck, and flew in a dizzying spiral back down to the prison. He flew right in, hovering in the centre of Q-Section, making sure as many as possible could see him.
"Look! Look! This is my strength! This is my power! I, Ivan Nazarov, have beaten the Supremacist! I did it! LOOK!" The command was unnecessary. Everyone was looking. "Do you see? I tore him apart! I humbled him! I broke him!" In his giddiness, he had genuinely forgotten the roles of the others in the Supremacist's defeat. He saw the terror in the eyes of the criminals as they looked up at him, many seeing their lord and master dismembered and toppled. God, it gave him pleasure to see that! To be in the same room as the Supremacist - and he was the most feared person in it!

He turned Martin's head to face him. He was already glassy-eyed, much more than halfway through death's door. "How does it feel? Hm? You abusive, self-satisfied dog? How does it feel? Knowing that your half-witted pseudo-Nazism got you nothing? How does it feel knowing that I killed you?" Martin looked at him, very slowly. He began to contort his face into rage, to spit one last insult, to make one last barb, but he didn't have it in him. His expression softened, very slightly.
"B-better..."
"Hm? What was that, Martin? I couldn't quite hear you over all that blood gushing out of your stomach!"
"Better you...than anyone else...kiddo" Martin said.
"Oh, how sweet," Ivan said...but there was an uncomfortably large part of him which took this as an honour. "I'd never have been this strong without you," he said. He'd meant it as an ironical taunt, but...it hadn't quite come out that way.

Keeping his grip tight, he flew up high, dragging Martin along with him. Then, with all his strength, he hurled him upwards, while pushing himself back down.
"DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIE!!!" Nucleon screamed, and poured every last drop he had into sending one last blast straight upwards. The shot itself hit Martin so hard that it put another hole in his chest - before it exploded, and disintegrated him down to the very last cell. The Supremacist had fallen - and at the hands of his greatest disciple.

Ivan fell. He had no power left even to fly. He just let himself drop, wind rushing past him as he dropped. Ecstasy filled him.
"Now..." he thought. "Right now...if I could keep one moment in time forever...this...this!" But this was not to be Ivan's final hour, and he felt a pair of strong arms catching him.
"I swear to god," Hydrocita said, "if you start telling people you beat him single-handed, I'm gonna cut your arms off."
"He's dead, Farah," Ivan said, and Farah realised that she had probably never seen someone looking so serenely happy in her entire life.
"I know, dude. We did it." She grinned. "You did it."

Far, far below, Sinistrus watched as the man who'd murdered her father, the man who'd forced her into slavery and made her think that she deserved and desired it, perished at the hands of Ivan Nazarov - and at her own, of course. She might not have had her hand on the knife that was thrust into his heart, put her fingers had been touching its pommel. She collapsed to the ground, shaking and tearful, until she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up, and saw the golden figure of Enhancegirl standing over her.
"You're gonna be okay, Lissandra," Sophie said. "Everything's gonna be okay." She wrapped her arms around Lissandra's shoulders, and embraced her until she stopped shaking quite so fiercely. Sophie looked out at the destruction that the Supremacist and the Pariahs had wrought, and she found it difficult to believe that anything was going to be okay. But she said it anyway: she couldn't bring herself not to comfort someone who was crying. What the hell else was a superhero for?
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DrDominator9
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Wow, what a treat! :yahoo: I get busy for a few days and there's a fun segment that you write and I respond to and then like five hours later there's another huge chapter. I'm going to have to start referring to you as Mr. Prolific. :thumbup:

Anyway, I will read the chapter above as soon as I can get to it and comment appropriately. :coffee:
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
Damselbinder

"This is terrible!" Imperion was at his desk, but he wasn't sitting. His hands were on the table, and his normally relaxed demeanour was nowhere to be found.
"The death toll is currently at twenty-four," Panhellius said, reading from a tablet. "Excluding the Supremacist himself. Four guards, ten prisoners, five coastguard men on a small boat, and four construction workers on the docks. And...apparently one superhero, but we're still getting conflicting reports as to whom."
"Why are we all so glum?" Fahrenheit asked. He and Askancepoint were sitting together on a rather stylish couch in Imperion's cozy office, recuperating from their day's mission. On any other day their foiling a plot by Viscount Venom to poison Renning City's water supply would have been the big story of the day...but not that day. "I mean, the Supremacist is dead. Huzzah and cheers, surely."
"Well, he was already safely locked away in prison," Mark signed. "It's less like..." He made a sort of exaggerated 'happy cheering' motion. "'Oh hooray, the evil wizard is dead!' It's more like he got to go on one last rampage before getting put down for good."
"No, Mark," Imperion signed. "That's...unfortunate, but, well, he's dead now. It's a tragedy that he hurt so many people again, but I can't say I'm sad he's dead. The problem is...them."
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Sam, get your butt over here!" Farah shouted, helping Ivan onto the ground. Obediently, the armoured fighter dashed over.
"G-geez! Is he o-okay?" Certainly, he was covered in wounds - gashes in his chest, his limbs, even his face...but he didn't look like he was in pain. Sam scanned him. "Y-you're losing a lot of b-blood, dude. We should -"
"Quiet, t-t-t-tin-man," Ivan said, flashing a mocking smile. "I'm fine." He looked upwards at the spot in the sky where the Supremacist had met his final end. "I've never felt better."
"Thank god for Max," Farah said. "I didn't know he could control lava!" Ivan winced. He clenched his fist. He wanted to savour this triumph without any complications...but he couldn't pretend it hadn't happened.
"That wasn't Angermax," he said. "I think it was a man named Catastrophe."
"Oh," Sam said. "Oh, the dude I d-dragged outta the crane! Well, c-cool, I guess, but...where's M-Max, then?"
"Keep up, Samuel," Ivan said. "Max is dead."

When Sophie and the others made their way back inside Q-Section to help secure the rest of the prisoners, they found Hammerblow standing over Angermax's corpse.
"Oh no..." Sophie felt a black disappointment. All of the ruthless murderers that the Supremacist might have chosen to test his power on, and he'd killed a man who'd just managed to claw his way into virtue.
"I...wasn't quick enough," Hammerblow said. "He died." He slumped down, sitting cross-legged on the floor.
"It's okay, big guy," Mindblow said. Even sitting, Hammerblow came up to Gregory's shoulder, so he patted him on the back. "He died about a minute or two after you started looking."
"Jason's going to be so sad," he said simply.
"He already is, bro," Gregory said.

"Dear God!" It was Caduceus. He ran towards the remnants of the Catastrophe Gang, only half seeing Max's bloodied corpse. "Out of the way! Please, I have healing powers, I can -" From Mindblow's grim look more than anything else, Simon realised just how late he was.
"Unless you've upgraded to full blown messiah-ship," Miles said, "I think you're better off helping others, little brother. Like him, perhaps." He pointed past Caduceus to a short man with spiky, black hair, stunned and bleeding. Limping, he was half-dragging himself back inside.
"I helped..." he mumbled. "I helped beat him, Max...is...that good enough?" He collapsed, but Caduceus had already rushed to help him.
"Easy there," Simon said, putting his hand on Catastrophe's chest, where most of the damage was. "What happened to you?" he asked, as his healing energies flowed into Jason's body. "Your sternum was split in half!"
"I guess that's what you get when you fight the Supremacist," Jason said, feeling a measure of relief.
"What? Why would you do that?" Jason didn't answer, but his eyes moved to Angermax's body. "Oh..." Caduceus let go of him. Watched as he dragged himself to his fallen friend, and slump down next to him. "What have I done?!"

Enhancegirl approached the Pariahs with more than a little trepidation, to give them the news of their comarade's death. When they'd appeared to fight the Supremacist she'd been happy for the backup, but now...well now he was gone, and they'd all just gone up the world's power rankings by an uncomfortably large margin.
"Enhancegirl," Hydrocita said, smiling. "Where'd you scurry to while all the fun was happening?"
"People are dead," Enhancegirl replied. "I don't think any of this is fun." She took a breath in. "Angermax is -"
"Dead?" Ivan interrupted. "Yes, we know. But so's the Supremacist so - you know. Swings and roundabouts."
"H-hey, d-don't be an asshole!" Sam shouted. "Uh...armour down!" His skeletal shell vanished, revealing the nervous, gangly young man inside. He looked quite emotional. "I liked him. H-he came up with my n-name and -"
"C'mon, kid, don't be a pussy," Farah said. "I'm the only one of you who knew him for more than, like, a week, and you don't see me weeping, do ya?"

Sophie was less than entirely comforted by the Pariahs' bickering and the callousness of their response to their ally's death. Ivan saw this.
"Are we not sad enough for you, Enhancegirl?" He came a few inches closer.
"He's your friend. It's not my business, and I wouldn't have said anything if you hadn't asked me." There was a moment of tension. "Is this gonna be normal for you guys?" She swept her hand out in a wide arc, gesturing at the destruction that the battle had left in its wake.
"I'm detecting a distinct lack of the appropriate praise and adulation from you, young lady," Ivan said. "I - we," he quickly corrected himself, as Farah raised a sharp eyebrow, "just took down the strongest bastard on the planet. I'd say a little gratitude is in order, wouldn't you?"
"You're heroes," Sophie said, throwing up her hands. "You're total fucking heroes - I have no idea how you could have stopped him without fighting like you did. But, Jesus, Ivan, look at this!" He did. Fire. Rubble. Wreckage everywhere. The very ocean seemed to bleed.
"What's your point?"
"My point is people are gonna be scared of you guys. I'm a little scared, to be honest." Ivan grinned.
"And that's bad because...?"
"Oh lay off," Hydrocita said, slapping him on the shoulder. "We get it, you're a super-cool renegade badass. Now shut the fuck up for a sec'."

She turned her eyes to Sophie, stepping forward, and folding her muscular arms across her chest. "I get it, sister. This is your city, and we fly in and start smashing shit up. I'd be pissed if I was you. So let me put your mind at ease. Firstly, we don't work outta Seacouver. We're based in L.A. Secondly, it wouldn't matter even if we did. See, most teams, like the crew your girl replaced me in, get a buncha guys to fill out different roles. A scout. A stealthy guy. A close range fighter. An energy manipulator. A telepath, even, if you can find one. We don't give a shit about any of that. The Pariahs are all about power. Between me, Zjarrus and the kid we've got more firepower than anybody - even without Angermax. So we respond to situations where power's what's needed. Don't worry, EG," she said, winking, "we won't be muscling in on your turf."

Though things stood a little more explained, perhaps, Sophie wasn't wholly comforted.
"Who decides what kind of situation needs...this?" she asked.
"We do," Hydrocita replied, sniffing.
"And what if we don't all agree with you?" Sophie asked, knowing in advance that she wouldn't like the answer.
"Then nothing," Ivan said. "I mean, be realistic. There's nothing you'd be able to do about it." Before Sophie could give any kind of answer to that, Ivan lifted himself into the air. He and Sophie exchanged a black look. "I knew I didn't like her," he thought, but realised he had one more question to ask.
"What happened to Sinistrus?" Sophie hesitated before answering.
"She realised the same thing that you did when you were a kid, I guess," Sophie replied. "She wanted to be free of him." Ivan's expression flickered.
"Well," he replied, "let's hope her motives were a little more noble." He put on a thoroughly artificial smile. "Ciao! You handle the cleanup - I'm going to get drunk!" He wreathed himself in fire, and shot off into the sky.

"W-wow, Max was right! He is always l-like that!" Sam said.
"Fucking..." Hydrocita growled. "Enhancegirl, I don't want to make any enemies, yeah? But...we're not going away."
"Fair enough," Sophie said. "And, like...I am grateful." Hydrocita nodded. There was an uneasy respect between the two women, but it was there. At the very least, she'd convinced Sophie that the Pariahs weren't insane. The question was if that might, at some point, change.

Sophie cast her eyes across the devastation, and saw two figures crossing the land bridge, running quite fast. With her senses, she was able to perceive who it was - a woman with purple hair, and another with green. They were running hand in hand. Enhancegirl almost wanted to give chase...but she stopped herself. They were not Lissandra, and she was not sure that their circumstances warranted the pass she'd given Sinistrus...but, then again, Caitiff had saved her. She'd earned a head start at least. Sophie smiled and, in the nicest way possible, hoped she would never see them again.

Suddenly, Sophie perceived something out of the corner of her senses, something moving at high speed over the water.
"Oh, what-fucking-now?!" she growled, turning in the object's direction.
"What's going on?" Hydrocita asked. "Another enemy?"
"Oh c-crap! Exo-generate!" Sam summoned a sickly green light around his body, which solidified and hardened into his powerful battle armour. He turned his scanners to the water, and saw that it was a person. "Damn, he's f-fast! But..." He zoomed in. "But damn, that outfit sucks." The figure screeched to a halt right in front of the three.
"Stand back citizens! It is I, Celeritas! I saw that -" He paused. The sounds of battle were distinctive by their total absence. "Aw, son of a bitch!"

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A few hours later, once the clean up had really begun to progress - Celeritas, to his credit, had put his powers to tremendous use - Sophie decided that it was once again reasonable to think about herself - and she returned to her original purpose: Schiffer. Not that she preferred it this way, but the present situation was in a way a tremendous boon: she had the run of the place now. A hero in more ways to the guards than one, they happily directed her to the section where Schiffer was located.

The guard to where he was meant to be being kept, however, was not a Pen-Supreme guard. He was a soldier.
"Gonna have to ask you to stop there, Miss," he said.
"Relax," she said, "I just want to talk to the prisoner."
"There is no prisoner here," he said. Sophie almost laughed.
"What? What are you talking about? Peter Schiffer, he's in that cell, isn't he?"
"I don't know that name, Miss," he said, "but it doesn't matter either way." He moved aside slightly. The cell was empty.
"What? Then I must be in the wrong place." But no - this was the only place he could be. "Look, he was here. You must know something."
"I don't know nothing, Miss. I'm gonna have to ask you to move along now." He very ostentatiously shifted his rifle.
"Hey, let me ask you something," Sophie said. "If he's not here...why are you?"
"Lady, I have my orders, and I'm under no obligation to explain anything. Move along please."
"But -"
"Move along, please." Sophie was baffled. She turned on her heel and stormed off, assuming there'd been some kind of fuck-up, possibly when he'd been moved back to his cell after their talk.

But no - try as she might she couldn't find where he'd gone. She searched high and low, through every section she could get access to. She bothered every administrator she could find, the deputy warden, anyone, until so much time had passed, and sufficient normalcy had resumed, that her momentary privilege was in danger of being revoked. Rushing around in one last, blind panic, she discovered - to her horror - that the worst had happened: Schiffer was gone. Somehow, he had escaped in all the confusion.
"Fuck...fuck, fuck, fuck, FUUUUCK!!" Sophie screamed. "It's not...fair...!" All that effort, all that struggle...and her answers had been snatched away from her. She felt cold. "What the hell do I do now?" She felt a kind of...darkness. She shivered - it wasn't just a frustration. It felt like someone had defeated her. It was collapsing: all her satisfaction from her victories in combat, all her happiness at seeing Lissandra freed from the Supremacist's bonds, all her straightforward pleasure at her own safety and that of Falcona. It was all crumbling away. She just felt...beaten.

Back down where Schiffer's cell was supposed to have been, another guard - a Penitentiary Supreme guard - entered the little subsection.
"Hey man, what are you doing?"
"Following orders," he replied.
"Dude. You're guarding an empty cell. Why did someone order you to do that?"
"Because -" Suddenly, a look of panic crossed his otherwise stony face. "Hey...hey, you're right - I...I have no idea what I'm doing here! It's like..." He struggled to explain it. "It's not like I just didn't know...I didn't even know that I didn't know!"
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"What? The Penitentiary Supreme?!" Mariko burst into Imperion's office without standing on ceremony. "Why are we all sitting here? The entire Pauldron should have mobilised. I shall go myself if I must!"
"Check it out," Fahrenheit signed to Askancepoint, "Spectra has discovered our human emotions!"
"You are such a twat," Askancepoint signed back. Imperion glared at them - he understood sign language just as well as they did.

"Take it easy, Spectra," Chryseis said. "The situation's under control. The Supremacist is dead, everyone's back in their cage."
"The..." Mariko shook. "The Supremacist? Oh god...Sophie!" She felt sick. She knew her. She knew that her lover wouldn't have run, wouldn't have done anything but leap into the heart of the danger. "Enhancegirl...was there," she said. "Is she among...has she...?"
"She's alive," Panhellius replied. "In fact, I hear she gave a rather impressive accounting of herself. Much of what we're hearing is rumour, but several sources are saying that she defeated Dextrus in single combat."

Mariko felt a kind of emotional whiplash from terror, to relief, to surprise, to such pride that she felt goosebumps running up her spine. She had to suppress a smile.
"Dextrus? She felled Dextrus alone?" This was an enemy even Spectra would not have faced by herself.
"Whoa!" Chryseis whooped. "Darn, I didn't know she was such a tough cookie! Didn't you lose to him Jackson?"
"Well sure," he said, off-handedly, "but I was in Canada at the time." Chryseis gave a slightly confused chuckle.
"Uh...so?" He seemed momentarily confused, but then threw up his hands in an 'aw shucks' gesture.
"Y'know...it's Canada! That doesn't count."

Mariko clenched a fist of triumph. This was it...this was exactly what Sophie deserved, and what she needed. A triumph to equal any of Mariko's. She felt a warmth inside her, not only at her loving admiration for her girlfriend, but also to realise how much pleasure she derived from Sophie equalling her. How petty she'd been, how vain and selfish, when they'd first met, how jealous of being rivalled. She put her hand over her heart, and felt, quite without conceitedness, just how much compassion Sophie had unlocked from a once-cold heart.

But there was still one rather insistent question.
"Who defeated the Supremacist?" Mariko hadn't asked this. Nova had. She'd switched off her powers, her hair now light brown, her white dress replaced with a simple vest and knee-length skirt. "And how did he get his powers back?"
"As for the latter," Panhellius said, "this we have confirmed: Caduceus was there - his wife was captured and used as leverage." He tutted at this sentiment. Without question, had he been in Caduceus' position, he would have allowed Falcona to die. "As for the former," he went on, "that appears to be our chief concern at this juncture."

He pressed a button on his tablet, and a panel on Imperion's desk rolled back to reveal a screen. A few taps later, and four faces appeared on the screen. Two Mariko recognised at once - Ivan Nazarov and Farah Ferrington - otherwise known as Zjarrus and Hydrocita. A third looked very familiar, but Mariko couldn't place it.
"These are the four members of the group calling itself 'the Pariahs'. Ivan Nazarov, our old friend Hydrocita, a former criminal named Angermax -" Mariko nodded. That was where she knew that face from. "And Samuel Sparr."
"Wait, what?" Fahrenheit sprung up out of his seat. "The kid with the armour from that shady-as-hell military project?" Askancepoint tapped him on the leg, and he signed an explanation.
"Oh, good for him!" Mark replied. "I hoped he'd go up in the world."
"Mark, he's still a wanted man." In actual fact, Shane was less sure of this at the end of his sentence than at he'd been at its beginning. "Or I suppose it's possible that the military have decided to bury their heads...hmmm..."

"I'm very concerned," Jackson said. "A walking atom bomb, an unstable kid, a criminal and - well, and Farah. Knowing what we know about her now...those four together could be a recipe for disaster."
"I know Ivan Nazarov," Mariko spoke up. "He saved my life last year. I agree that the combination is perhaps concerning, but he's not the raging berserker people like to paint him as."
"What do you say, Sara?" Shane said, winking. "Was he a raging berserker?"
"Kiss my ass," Nova replied, not totally without humour. "I think the point is that they could become a problem. If that happens, well...that's what we're for." Imperion shook his head.

"That's not the main problem," he said. "They won a big victory today, and they weren't very...restrained about it. They killed quite a few people...and if they've got themselves registered with the state, then they've got exactly zero accountability for it, thanks to that amendment they stuck on the end of the R.R.A." He ran his hands through his hair. "It's a really bad time for this kind of superhero to become a thing again. Heroes that kill just as a matter of course. With people scared shitless by Hades either this is gonna make people totally embrace the idea again and shit'll be right back to how it was in the nineties. Or, they're gonna get even more scared of superhumans, and that's bad for us - for everyone like us."
"And after what happened in San Francisco," Nova said, "it's going to be harder for us to liaise with law enforcement." Mariko was standing in front of Sara, and felt for a moment as if she was being glared at, but assumed it was her imagination.

"There are rumblings," Panhellius added. "Apparently the Anubis Foundation are using the current climate to lobby for new restrictions on us."
"Those bastards again?" Mark signed, angrily, when Imperion translated for him. "They're almost as bad as the Inferiorites!"
"What kind of restrictions?" Chryseis asked.
"I think what's being floated," Panhellius said, checking some notes, "is something relatively benign. A kind of unified agency to handle the registration of superheroes, and to oversee state sponsored ones. Nevada has something similar, but so many of their superhumans wind up working in California that they don't have much to do."
"That doesn't sound particularly objectionable," Mariko said.
"It'll be an inroad to more, obviously," Nova said. "Anything the Anubis Foundation are attached to is going to be bad. They're the ones who got it signed into law that telepaths can't give evidence in trials."
"I...see," Mariko replied. It felt like she'd just been scolded.
"Hey, look," Imperion said, flashing a handsome smile on a handsome face. "This is for me and the Morrow Foundation to worry about. You guys are superheroes, not politicians. Just...stay aware, okay?"

As the others began to file out - Askancepoint and Fahrenheit rather gleefully taking advantage of Imperion's seafood restaurant - Nova began moving towards the gym, and Mariko followed her.
"Sara, may I have a word?"
"Sure," Nova said. She turned to Mariko, and made such an obvious effort to look friendly that even Mariko could tell it was forced. "What is it, Mariko?"
"It's about what happened in San Francisco," the former model replied. "You...didn't seem pleased with the outcome."
"Hey, don't worry about it," Sara said. "Yeah, it wasn't how I wanted it to end, but you made a snap decision. It happens."
"How did you want it to end?"

Sara looked at her with frustration.
"I didn't want that cop - Cory - losing his badge. I wanted to smooth things over and offer a hand of friendship to the police - and we only made things worse. You can forget anybody in that precinct working with us again, I can tell you that much." She shook her head.
"He had a gun to your head. That other clubbed me over the head. Ought we to have let that slide?"
"Yes, we should have. I mean, ideally. I get it, Mariko, I do - our lives were under threat and you responded. Can we drop it?"
"I'd like for you to see my side, Sara, even if I can't convince you," Mariko said, with insistence. "We can disagree while being mutually respectful, can't we?" Sara made a conciliatory gesture, and Mariko went on.

"I heard what you were saying to him, to, er, Cory. About the police and superheroes like us being essentially the same. Well, I don't agree. I believe that we stand for something greater than simple law and order. A policeman is expected to uphold the laws he is told to uphold. A superhero is expected to battle what is evil. Hence the outfits and the codenames - we're meant to be larger than life, to be above the mundane. To inspire. And that applies even to the police themselves. Besides which, I'm not sure I'm as sympathetic to this man as you are. His blaming us for what happened to his fiancée has an unsettlingly...prejudiced aspect to it. It would be like if he'd pointed a gun at Fahrenheit because the man who murdered his fiancée was black."

Sara pondered for a moment, inclined her head to the side.
"Well, I..." She gave a mirthless laugh. "No, I'm sorry, that's...such a 'Couvie attitude, I almost can't believe it."
"What?"
"You guys, Seacouver heroes, you live in a bubble. A bubble where you fight...cartoon characters and everyone loves you, and you get to pose on rooftops and think you're changing the world. Outside the city limits shit gets a lot more complicated. People are suspicious of us. Afraid of us. We have to tread so carefully or we all get seen as monsters! One or two bad mistakes and people like the Anubis Foundation can turn the people on us like that!" She snapped her fingers. "When you're more experienced, you'll realise that."
"I'm just as experienced as you," Mariko said. Her tone was no longer quite as diplomatic as it had been.
"What?"
"I've been an active superhero since I was sixteen. You're talking to me as if I'm some blundering novice, but I've been in this business for as long as you have - longer even!" Mariko didn't realise until she was halfway through speaking quite how upset she was. "I...thought I'd earned at least a measure of your respect, but you're talking to me like...a child!"
"What do you care?" Sara shot back. "What do you care what I think of you? Everyone loves you! You're our bright new star, the golden girl, the only one of us apart from Imperion who could challenge Hades! Imperion thinks you're the best thing since sliced bread, the public adore you - why do you want anything from me?"

Mariko was shocked. She blinked at Nova. She hadn't seen this coming at all.
"But...after what happened to us," she said, "I thought..."
"What? That we were sisters?"
"Yes," Mariko said simply, lost and bewildered.
"That's the worst part...you know what, everything else? Fine, it's a difference of philosophy. In fact...yeah, I was talking down to you, and I owe you an apology for that." Sara said. Her voice was shaking. "But after Hades...after what Hades did to us...you were a little more robotic than usual for a week and then you were fine! You were fine! Me? It's like he - augh, she - is still there all the time. I have nightmares about it every night! I - every time I turn a corner I think I'm about to get a chloroformed rag shoved over my face! Every time we go on a mission I think it could be a trap, that she's going to...take me again. I sleep with the lights on. I wanted to stay with my mother for a while, but...I didn't want Hades to get her too! I know what happened to us wasn't much different...but in the end, your encounter with Hades made you a megastar! Well she destroyed me! And I have absolutely no justification for this, and I'm a petty, shallow bitch for hating you for it, and you have every right to think I'm a total piece of shit, and I am - I am - but I do hate you for it, and I won't stop hating you for it, ever, do you understand me?!" Mariko did not understand. She didn't understand in the slightest.

By this time, Nova's voice had been loud enough to be heard outside the gym. Imperion heard her, and ran to see what was happening. Mariko turned to him, as if seeking some explanation, but she found none.
"Leave," he said. "Now." She obeyed, taking small but rapid steps, finding herself breathing hard. As she made to leave, she passed Fahrenheit and Askancepoint. The latter didn't realise anything was wrong, but Fahrenheit had heard the louder parts of what Nova had said.
"You shouldn't have pushed so hard, Mariko," he said. It was meant as a kind of olive-branch, almost: the two had, thus far, never had a personal conversation. But Mariko took it as a barb. 'You're a fool. You didn't see what we all saw - you've done this.'

In the gym, Imperion had his arms wrapped around Nova. She was sobbing into his chest.
"It's okay," he said, soothingly. "It's okay, Sara..."
"It's...not!" she gasped through her tears. "It's not okay! Every...day...is another...humiliation! How am I supposed to l-live like this?!"
"You're safe, Sara," Jackson said, holding her as tight as he dared. "You'll always be safe with me." But she kept on crying, like a princess whose kingdom had been burned to the ground before her eyes.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Sophie lay on her side, curled like a cat on her couch. It had been surprisingly early when she'd got home, only about four in the afternoon, so she'd been lying there - alone - for hours. She was exhausted, every muscle in her body aching. But it wasn't just that. She was...worn out.
"No..." she thought. "Worn down..." She had coursework to do - a paper she'd submitted needed some serious edits - but she didn't want to. She'd received a couple of texts from friends who wanted her to come out with them, but she ignored them, going so far as to delete the messages so she wouldn't be reminded of them.

It wasn't a good feeling, but it had an odd...familiarity to it. There was a kind of comfort in letting this bleakness settle over her, this grey void of energy. For a young woman who at times was almost like action incarnate, this leadenness should have been alien...but it wasn't. Sinistrus. Captain Cur. Hell, even Caitiff and Chupacabra. She'd saved so many, but she herself - it seemed - was to be denied her answers, her salvation. And it was salvation she needed. Enhancegirl could not go on, surely, without this knowledge. And yet she no longer felt as if there was any way of getting it.

Trying not to despair, she turned her eyes to the television. It was a sort of political talk show, Point-Counterpoint style. As Sophie started listening, she began to be a little more interested.
"What today proves," a woman said, "is that we need a group like the Pariahs. A group with the strength and, forgive me Alan, the balls to take down monsters like the Supremacist." The caption on the screen read 'Julia Laurentiis - Pariahs' Director of Communication'. This made Sophie take yet more interest. She was gorgeous: rich, mocha coloured skin, white hair in a fetching bob. Her grey jacket was low cut, revealing a very generous bust. And she worked for the Pariahs? Certainly a striking public face, that was for sure. "Let's face facts: the only thing that can take down superhumans of that level is other superhumans. We need an overwhelming force - and that's what we at the Pariahs provide."
"Sorry, but doesn't this all sound a little...concerning?"

The camera panned to a blonde man, with curly hair, and a punchably cheeky smile. He was dressed in a tight, slightly old-fashioned grey suit, and he was almost as slender as Mariko. The caption that came up read 'Cato Pict: Spokesman, Anubis Foundation'.
"We've got a guy who terrifies all the good folks because he's untouchably strong, right?" Cato said. "And the solution is, what - putting our faith in a bunch of guys just as scary as him? I think the good people are a little sick on having to rely on superhumans' goodwill to protect them. That's why my organisation is trying to push for a solution which is fair to the rights of superhumans - but also acknowledges that their power gives them a greater share of responsibility too."
"This is just another transparent effort to stir up anti-super racism," Julia said. "It's all you guys ever do. The Pariahs exist to solve real problems that your 'good folks' could actually be hurt by. A team of experienced, powerful supers with the guts to put down dogs like the Supremacist and make sure these problems never come back."

"Julia, honey, I'm not stirring anything up," Cato laughed. "The sentiment's there already. And you know what? I think the American people are getting sick of being painted as racists for feeling something logical. Let's say a new guy moves in next door. He's black, and I want him to move out. Am I a racist? Absolutely! I'm a total dick! But now let's imagine he's not black - or maybe he is, whatever - but I also know that if he loses his temper, he might burn down my whole block. The thing that you liberals never want to admit," he said, this being directed at the host, rather than at Julia, "is that being scared of superhumans is logical. Who isn't terrified by Hades? Who doesn't want something done to stop people like him ever appearing again." Julia smirked.
"I'll tell you who's not terrified by Hades." She looked into the camera. "The Pariahs. I'll be blunt: just by himself, our heaviest hitter, Zjarrus is more powerful than Hades. He proved that today. And as long as we're not afraid of him, you don't have to be either."
"No," Cato said, "you just have to be scared of the ex-terrorist atom bomb."

It was then that Sophie heard her door opening. She didn't have her powers on, but she knew who it was just from the sound of someone unfamiliar with the lock. Mariko entered, and Sophie leapt up and latched onto her like a koala to a tree.
"Sophie!" Mariko gasped, but her surprise indicated no displeasure. She returned the embrace, and buried her face in Sophie's soft, red hair, smelling her, drinking her in. Sophie tucked her arms in, letting Mariko surround her with her presence. She almost started crying from relief at being in her lover's presence. "I heard about everything you did," Mariko said. "Felling Dextrus, crossing swords with the Supremacist again...I'm so proud of you my love." A panic seized her. "Wait, did that sound patronising?"
"No, sweetie," Sophie replied. "It sounded like Mariko." They stayed in each other's embrace for a moment, as if recharging something, then Mariko pulled away slightly.

"Did you find anything out from this Schiffer person?" Mariko asked.
"Barely anything," Sophie said. She moved back, so that the two could see each other's faces. She'd been about to tell Mariko of her frustration and dismay, about to share her feelings of crushing despondency - and then she saw Mariko's face. Her beautiful, elegant face - filled with confusion and distress. She could hide nothing from Sophie - but the reverse was not true. In an instant, Sophie's aspect changed. She filled her expression with warmth, and kindness - and ease, too, so that Mariko would not feel she was burdening her. She would be her happy-go-lucky Sophie, her pillar: that was what Mariko needed, not the...mess that Sophie had been for the last few hours. "But not nothing," she said, smiling. "Not all the way there, but it's another little step." She stroked Mariko's face, and her lover shivered. "Something's wrong, sweetie. What is it?"

And so Mariko told her. And Sophie kissed her, and comforted her, and reassured her that she could not have known Sara was in such pain, and praised her for her high standards, and gently acknowledged that yes, Mariko still did have much learning to do, but that she was making such earnest efforts she should hold no grudge against herself. And she resolved that she would not keep her own feelings from Mariko, but that there was a time for it. When Mariko was feeling better, when she would not be overburdened by Sophie sharing the blackness that had taken root inside her heart. But Mariko first. Always Mariko first.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

One week later...

"Come in, Jason." The spiky-haired convict obeyed, shifting his collar uncomfortably. After acquiring Angermax's power, he'd had to have a new one, and it didn't quite fit. Nervously, he sat down before Philip Hayward - the Generator.
"What's up?" he said. Philip was covered with wounds. He'd lost some sight in his right eye, probably permanently, and he'd needed skin grafts to repair much of the damage Greyhand had done him - but nothing short of unconsciousness or death would keep him from his duties.
"Technically speaking," he said, "I don't get any influence over parole boards. But we've got a special situation here, and so I can veto."
"What are talking about? I ain't up for parole for another two years," Jason said. He crossed his arms over his chest.
"Someone pulled some strings," Philip replied. "Somebody wants you out, Jason, and this -" he said, throwing something onto the desk in front of him " - is conditional on you going to work for 'em."
"A job? Like a work placement?"
"Sort of." He pulled it away. He fixed Jason with a stare.

"I knew you weren't all bad," he said, "but I didn't think you had what it took to be a hero." He smiled. "You taking on the Supremacist like that...that was heroism, pure and simple. People have noticed."
"That's what this is about?" Jason said. "Me fighting the Supremacist?"
"That's it," Philip said. Growling, Jason stood up. "Whoa, where are you going."
"Hey!" he shouted to the guard outside. "We're done here, take me back to my cell!"
"Jason, what are you doing? Why aren't you taking this?"
"I'm not a hero!" Catastrophe barked. "I...I didn't fight the Supremacist because it was good or because I believed in truth or justice, or whatever. I did it because he'd hurt my...my friend, and I wanted revenge. Nothin' heroic about that. No different from - from gang retaliation!"
"Then I approve."

Philip stood up, approached Catastrophe.
"I was going to say no. I didn't think this would be good for you. I thought you'd see it as you dodging a punishment, but you're more mature than I gave you credit for."
"This was a test?"
"Yeah. And you passed. In my book, honesty comes before every other virtue. Now I want you to take another look at that offer, but before you do, tell me something." He was only a foot away. "Why did your friend give you his power before he died?" Jason was going to dodge the question, but decided not to. He wouldn't tarnish Max's memory with lies.
"Because he was in love with me," Jason said.
"What did he want you to do with it?"
"At the time I thought he wanted me to get revenge for him. Now I don't have a god-damned clue." Philip patted him on the shoulder.
"You know, I think I might have an idea."

An hour of administration later, and Jason was free. He found a handsome car awaiting him, with an even more handsome woman inside it. Slipping into the back seat, he found himself confronted with a stunning woman - dark skinned, with white hair, and a very generous bust.
"Mr Johansson," she said. "Such a pleasure to meet you. My name is Julia Laurentiis - and it's my pleasure to welcome you, Catastrophe, to the Pariahs."
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Cato Pict loved cars. He was only thirty-seven, but he had bought and sold more than twenty, though he only ever owned one at a time. As he sped away from the Anubis Foundation's Sacramento office, he whistled to himself to the tune of 'My God is an Awesome God'. No believer, he'd only developed the habit because a coworker he disliked famously hated it, and he did it just to aggravate the fucker.

His present vehicle was an Aston Martin DB9, which he insistently described as 'purring like a panther' as he drove it. Everything good, for him, purred. Cars. Cats. Women. Generally, if something nearby was purring, life was good. So brazenly and consistently did he break the speed limit, to maximise the purr factor, that he reached his - large and eye-wateringly expensive - house in less than half an hour, a trip that IBM-Maps told him should take at least fifty minutes. He got out, and walked, still whistling, into his house.

At which point, he found a gun aimed at him. Three, in fact.
"Wow!" he said, grinning. "Those are neat! I don't know anything about guns, though. What are they? Glocks? Gats? Ooh, maybe Desert Eagles or -"
"Shut up!" the first man said. They were all obscuring their faces with bandanas. "Don't talk, you son of a bitch?"
"Hey, now my mom wasn't a very nice lady, but -"
"Be quiet! We're gonna kill you, Pict. Do you get that? For what your fucking Foundation did to us! Ten years in construction, and we never put a foot wrong, then suddenly the checks on superhumans - just because I robbed a convenience store when I was fifteen, I can't get a job anywhere now!"
"Why don't you become a superhero?" Cato suggested. "Always a market for that sort of thing."
"You want to know what my power is, huh?!" the leader shouted. "I can't get sunburn. That's it! I'm immune to sunburn! And because of that I lost my job, my house...all because of you! Well now, you die, Mr Pict."

Cato dropped his arms, stuffed his hands in his pockets.
"Ah, see this is going to ruin my afternoon," he said.
"Huh?" The gunman found Cato looking him dead in the eye. He didn't look quite so funny anymore.
"Disposing of your bodies is going to take a long time..." He shuddered. "I hate doing this..." He drew in breath.
"What are you doing?!" the lead gunmen shouted to the others. "Sh-shoot him!" But they had no more courage than he did. And by then, it was too late. Cato spoke one word, and sealed their fate.

Thirty seconds later, there were three dead men in Cato's apartment.
"Ugh!" Cato groaned, throwing two pills down his throat. "Oh...that's better." He moved over the corpses with ghostly grace and agility, like a phantom, his clothes now shimmering gold rather than the stylish grey they had been a moment before. "Huh..." he said, examining the bodies. "Should have bought the Hummer instead..." The word had not been one that most people would have associated with the brutal deaths that Cato's attackers experienced. It was, to those who had heard it, a sign of hope or - sometimes - a warning. But when Cato pronounced it, it was a death-knell. Seven letters, two syllables, and then...destruction. The word?



"Enhance!"
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DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

A terrific story, damselbinder, from start to finish. Unbelievably entertaining fight scenes, entrancing perils, solid character interactions and so much more. Thanks for a terrific thrill ride of a tale. You're one of my favorite writers here.
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
Damselbinder

DrDominator9 wrote:
6 years ago
A terrific story, damselbinder, from start to finish. Unbelievably entertaining fight scenes, entrancing perils, solid character interactions and so much more. Thanks for a terrific thrill ride of a tale. You're one of my favorite writers here.
Thanks, Dr D! I hope you enjoy the rest of the arc!
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Void
Sargeant
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Posts: 140
Joined: 10 years ago

Goodness me, you're productive.

This is, by quite a large margin, the most ambitious series/story in the forum - and probably in the SHIP genre as a whole. It's so vast, with such a rich, gigantic cast of characters that my only yardstick to compare it to is actual longstanding comics. In fact, it's so ambitious that I wonder if you might want to think about writing a key of some sort to link to at the start of each story, cluing readers in to who the characters are and how they connect to the main story. It might help people who are intimidated by the staggering scale of this universe, and are hesitant to put in the time to learn the continuity.

But yes, this was another brilliant tale, full of intrigue and wonderfully-presented action. The peril was top drawer and I love the deeper, more reflective tone of the story. I'm totally sold on Cato. I hugely appreciate the levels you go to explore each character as a fully formed human being, struggling with their extraordinary lives in such a relatable manner. Pfft, there's just too much going on here to try and acknowledge it all.
Lost in the night, and there is no morning.
Damselbinder

Void wrote:
6 years ago
Goodness me, you're productive.

This is, by quite a large margin, the most ambitious series/story in the forum - and probably in the SHIP genre as a whole. It's so vast, with such a rich, gigantic cast of characters that my only yardstick to compare it to is actual longstanding comics. In fact, it's so ambitious that I wonder if you might want to think about writing a key of some sort to link to at the start of each story, cluing readers in to who the characters are and how they connect to the main story. It might help people who are intimidated by the staggering scale of this universe, and are hesitant to put in the time to learn the continuity.

But yes, this was another brilliant tale, full of intrigue and wonderfully-presented action. The peril was top drawer and I love the deeper, more reflective tone of the story. I'm totally sold on Cato. I hugely appreciate the levels you go to explore each character as a fully formed human being, struggling with their extraordinary lives in such a relatable manner. Pfft, there's just too much going on here to try and acknowledge it all.
Thank you very, very much indeed, my man. You're right, that's a good idea. I might just do that.
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