Xanatos: Achilles Heel

[Xanatos]

The rain splattered off-of the hide of the helicopter as it made its way through Paragons skyline, the noisy hum of its engine drowned out by the blades as they cut through the night air. Inside the helicopter, Crey soldiers sat and waited, they were ten minutes away from destination, and this had to be a very quick operation. One mistake would ruin the operation, and it had been years in the making. A heavily armoured Crey Assault troop paced around the centre of the transport helicopter, his large metal boots resonating a clanging sound throughout the vehicles interior.

-Ten minutes to destination- came the garbled message from the Crey headquarters, blaring out of the assault troopers radio for all the shock troops to hear, -Snatch and grab, minimal damage, OVER. –

The radio fell dead as the soldiers sat and waited. Ten minutes passed without incident, and as the night-time hue cleared the headquarters of The Knights of the Round could clearly be seen. Illuminated by a bolt of lightning as it arched across the night sky. Followed swiftly by the helicopter.

***

“Aye, I know it’s been a long time, but I just wanted to let you guys know I’m still around. Protecting the innocent and all that”

Lillend Brandersmith, the housekeeper of The Knights of the Round, sighed. Calliban, one of the super team’s original members, had finally returned to the towers. And while he seemed intending to make nothing more then a social call, Lillend really was tired of him. The guy seemed obnoxious, rude, and he could do with a shave.

“So, peach, any word on when the team’ll be coming back?” said Calliban, as his eyes wandered around the lobby of the Knights Tower.

“None I’m afraid, Dr Vahzilok escaped AGAIN and they’re in the process of tracking him down,” said Lillend as she breathed out heavily, “They could be all night.”

Calliban had gone strangely quiet, his head cocked to one side, his hands moving towards his bow.

“Ugh…Mr Jacobs are you feeling o-“ said Lillend before Calliban leapt over the reception desk, grabbed her by the waist, and tumbled onto the floor, Narrowly avoiding the trail of bullets from the Crey helicopter which peppered the lobby in bullet-fire.
Without thinking, Lillend smashed her hand down onto the emergency alarm button underneath her desk, resulting in…nothing? Crey had cut the power lines to the building – they were after something. To add insult to injury, the Doorway to the lobby exploded as Crey shock troops stormed the building. Their dark red armour giving them the visage of demons as the pressed forward across the lobby’s marble floor, guns in hand.

Calliban already had arrows cocked, and was firing them at troopers left right and centre. His expert marksmanship allowed him to target soft spots in the armour – sending a Crey trooper to the floor with every charge released form his bow. Lillend had finally managed to find her mace amidst all the paperwork which now covered the floor of her office. Gripping it tightly, she moved forwards, completely intent on charging headlong into the Crey troopers. It was only the hand of Calliban that stopped her.

“I don’t know what you had planned love, but the last time I checked you weren’t bulletpro-” said Calliban before the sound of an explosion cut him off. It came from a floor above them, and it seemed to be as far away as the sleeping quarters. But what could Crey possibly want with the sleeping quarters? The Vault was located on the sixth floor, it contained all sorts of things numerous heroes and villains would no-doubt want to get a hold of. The only thing in the dorms was Victoria’s still unnamed child…

“No!” exclaimed Lillend as she tore free from Calliban’s grasp, and ran towards the stairwell. The sleeping quarters were only five floors up, she had to make it in time…

***

The Child of Lady Victoria Elsing, also known as The Green Knight, the leader of the Knights of the Round, awoke with a start as the door to its bedroom was torn from its hinges. The child began to bawl as Crey shock troops made their ay towards it, before they halted. Allowing a much taller and grander figure to enter the room. With one hand the figure scooped up the child and held it against his spandex covered chest. The crying subsided as the child fell asleep, granting an unnerving peace to the room. A peace that was destroyed as Lillend charged into the room, mace at the ready.

The Crey could not open fire, due to potentially harming the package they had come for. Instead they moved towards the mace wielding ex-cop, who now had a murderous look in her eyes. She charged the soldiers, ducking and weaving among them – knocking them aside with a mixture of skill and sheer dumb luck. As she approached the large dark figure who now held the child in his surprisingly gentle hands, Lillend faltered. Her eyes grew wider with surprise, and her body turned stock still.



“You!” she exclaimed before she was thrown across the room by the figure – flying through the stone wall of the babies room, before lying in a bloodied mess on the floor. Lillend was alive…just.

The tall dark figure waved his hand, signaling that it was time to leave. And as he did so, a large portal opened up behind him. A large smile crept across his dark features – revenge was a dish best served cold. And with one last glance at the now deathly quiet interior of The Knights of the Round Headquarters, he stepped through the portal.

[Xanatos]

Perez Park, or to be more accurate: The Boneyard, was ablaze with the sounds of war. The Skulls had declared martial law in Paragon – something the Hellions seemed to take exception to. And as the two gangs exchanged fire in the middle of one of the cities most dangerous hazard zones, a lone figure watched on from his vantage point – about two hundred feet above street-level. And as his pale white eyes gazed across the sprawling streets below, the mysterious figure counted the seconds before they arrived. It wouldn’t be long now…

As-if on cue, The Defenders, one of paragons many superhero teams, entered the fight with military-like precision. They had appeared from no-where – no doubt through some obscure device in their Headquarters – and were now proceeding to break up the gang war. Bayne had erected a large energy barrier between the two gangs – preventing them from firing upon each other. And as the Defenders split in two, one half to fight the Skulls, and the other to fight the Hellions, the gang members turned their weapons on the heroes. Bayne was quick on the defensive as ever, erecting a large defensive forcefield around the team, allowing the team to fire out their various blasts towards the gangs, knocking many of them to the ground. They were unconscious, but alive.

With the majority of the gang members now incapacitated, Radical Justice led the charge against the gangs in a close quarter coup de grace. And as the more physically strong members of The Defenders finished off what was left of the gang members, the police began to arrive, handcuffs at the ready as always. As usual Cyborg Robbie was giving them an earful…

“No man you listen to me, when a bunch o’ capes are dealin’ with a situation, we don’t need no blue collars throwin’ up in here!” said the robot ecstatically, his ebonic dialect showing through despite his robotic appearance, “An’ another thing, why you all white? I mean-“

“Enough Robert,” said Xanatos as he approached the assembled police officers, let the men do their jobs.”

With a grumble the huge form of Cyborg Robbie moved aside, but not without glaring at each of the officers in turn. As the gang members were cuffed and led away, many members of the Defenders looked to Xanatos for instruction. He had called the team together for a purpose, the gang war had just been a circumstantial even that happened to occur.

“Apologies, I had no idea such a thing would happen,” said Xanatos in his typical stout proud manner, “I had called you here for a different purpose. Now, much as I dislike the idea of telling you this in the Middle of Perez Park, Me and Victoria had something we wanted to share with you. She is due to meet with us any minute now.”

The team began to feel uneasy, Xanatos’s voice had quietened towards the end there, he never did that unless something odd was happening. In a flash of body parts, Xanatos’s hand flew up towards his ear, where the Defenders comm-link was located in every member of the team. “Port” – the teams navigator, must have sent him an important message.

“Nate take charge, I must leave!” said Xanatos as ice began to form around his body, before he shot off into the night sky – a trail of ice being left behind him. Xanatos normally traveled via ice-slides, something must have been wrong if he was prepared to push himself to flight.

Radical Justice looked on as his friend and ally flew away into the distance, he had referred to him by name; “Nate”, this was a slip-up, Xanatos never made slip ups.

“Guys get back to HQ, I have a feeling something big is about to go down,” said Radical Justice as he ran towards the nearest exit of The Hazard Zone. He’d never seen Xanatos look so…distraught over something before. He wished he could help his friend in his hour of need, but Nate knew better then anyone that personal demons must be conquered alone.

... High above the heads of the assembled heroes, the dark figure grunted in dismay. Something large was about to go down. As The Defenders began to disperse, making their own way back to their headquarters, the dark figure couldn’t help but let out a slightly chilling laugh. They had no idea what was in store for them.

It was going to be splendid.

***

The sun had finally risen in Paragon City - bringing with it the hustle and bustle of early morning traffic. According to the weatherman of Channel 9, who never made any mistakes due to superhuman weather-forecasting abilities (or so he claimed) today was going to be one of the hottest days in recent memory. And from the noise being made by Paragons early birds, it was clear the heat was starting to take effect.

As Xanatos tore through the early morning sky, he could already see sirens and flashing lights in the distance. And as he drew closer to The Knights headquarters, he saw the assembled squad cars and ambulances, their crews milling about the scene, helping where possible. As he touched down, landing hard on his golden boots, he looked up to see the downtrodden face of Gordan Stacy, Chief of police for Paragon City.

“Ah Xanatos, sad to say I’ve got nothing but bad news…” said the policeman before trailing off, half expecting Xanatos to have cut him off, “Erm… The Green Knight is upstairs if you wanted to speak with her.”

“Much thanks Officer!” said Xanatos as he made his way over to the foyer, the shattered glass that covered the floor crunching under each footstep.

Xanatos gazed about the foyer and clenched his fists in anger, shrapnel littered the area, with the ornate decorating completely devastated from gunfire. The kidnappers had held nothing back it seemed. One thing puzzled him however – what would they have been firing at if the Knights had not been at home? As-if to answer his question, the gruff voice of Calliban could be heard coming from behind.

“Tis only a fleshwound, get yer grubby mitts off me!” said the archer as a paramedic placed his clearly broken arm in a sling, “I need to be out on the streets, Crime doesn’t wait for injuries!”

Xanatos just smiled as he made his way to the elevator, you could always count on Calliban to be a stubborn bastard.

***

They’d taken her. Those bastards had taken Gwen. Her room was destroyed. Victoria had spent several months decorating the room, whenever she had the chance to (heroing was a busy occupation after all.) And the Crey troopers had destroyed it all in a matter of minutes. Now she stood, alone, marveling at the handiwork of the countesses troops, Praying to every god in existence that little Gwendolyn would be ok.

She heard Xanatos’s footsteps before he even entered what was left of the room. She figured he’d come, even he wouldn’t be too obnoxious to avoid something THIS big.

“Holy Moley!” said Xanatos in his typical outdated fashion, “Those rapscallions will pay for thi-“

The Green Knight cut him off, she was not in the mood.

“That’s all this is to you isn’t it? A game,” said The Green Knight angrily, “Us versus them, good old Uncle Sam fighting for the four freedoms. I’m…I’m sick of it Xan. You neglected Gwendolyn…” there was more passion in her voice then before, she turned to face him – old tears still clinging to her face, “And you neglected me.”

Xanatos’s face contorted into a look of extreme surprise. It must be the anger talking, there was no way she meant what she was saying.

“See here Victoria,” began Xan, “I’m not the enemy here...”

Letting out a string of expletives, Victoria moved towards the door. Her armour clinking as she went. It only did that when she was mad. Xanatos watched her leave, knowing full well his choice of words hadn’t been the best to choose. But she still hadn’t meant what she said, he was sure of that. Regardless, now was not the time for bickering. Gwen was missing and Xan knew exactly the right people who could find her.

“Port,” said Xanatos to the teams navigator, communicating to him through the teams comm.-link, “Patch me through to Joe. I need to speak with The Bonesquad.”

[Xanatos]

With his body plummeting towards earth at close to 50 miles per hour, Charon had to wonder what the benefits of being a hero were. No pay, high risk, stupid clothing – and the ladies weren’t exactly queuing up. Countess Crey had just had him thrown out of her office – another key example of his “special” relationship with the opposite sex. As his body neared the ground, Charon felt a warm aura envelope him, slowing his descent, until it gradually stopped him several feet above street level.

“Aren’t you going to thank me?” asked Psylex, The Bone Squad’s psychic. But as was the norm every time he saved Charons life, all he got was some form of grunt in response.

“Not here.” Said Charon, referring to the child they had been sent to investigate. Xanatos was a long time friend of The Bone Squad, and had been a confidant of Charons through thick and thin. While the Bonesquads roster had changed, and its composition variated, Xanatos had always stood by Charon. Making him loyal, if a little foolish.

Suddenly Charons belt radio sprung to life, the rasping sound of fellow bone-squader Rottweiler could be heard.

“Charon, this is Rottie, you know that guy called *Kenetik* from The Alliance?”

There was no reply.

“Well he’s telepathic. And he says he sensed Xan’s aura in downtown Skyway,” said Rottweiler half-heartedly, unsure if Charon was even receiving the message, “I just spoke with Xan and he is no-where near Skyway. I suggest you check it out. I mean…who else could it be?”

“Understood” came the reply as Charon turned off his radio, before turning to his comrades. “Gear up. Heading to Skyway.”

The assembled members of the Bonesquad understood and followed Charon as he made a break for the nearest city exit to Skyway City. When Charon barked out orders they were followed, the guy was a natural born leader, Much as he would deny such claims.

***

The sun was rising on the Cromwell estate. Home and headquarters to the supergroup known as The Icons. It had been almost six hours since his meeting with Victoria and already Xanatos was growing weary of a witch-hunt. He had half the city searching for his child, and knew that those media bastards would milk every single possible problem they could. Xanatos was pretty much the model boy scout, something the Paragonial media abhorred. It drove Xan mad sometimes, it was almost as if they had an ulterior motive. But for the moment, none of it mattered, he wanted to get Gwen back. And he would do everything in his power to make it happen.

“Do you have any idea who did this?” asked Alastair Cromwell, a superhero known far and wide as The Imperial, leader of The Icons, and long time friend of Xanatos. For such a big man he was rather soft spoken.

“No,” said Xanatos grimly, looking at a large golem-shaped hole in the wall of The Icons mansion, “But when I do I pray the lord is watching over whoever took Gwen, for I fear I may not be able to hold back.”

There was something chilling in the way Xanatos spoke. It was a side of the hero that rarely came out. The Imperial had seen it only once before, and that ended with an ice-age.

“Whoever is doing this is doing it for a reason. Do not play into their hands old friend. I have seen such a fate befall too many heroes.” Replied The Imperial, attempting to sound both sincere, but yet appeal to Xanatos’s logical side.

Xan just sighed in a weighted fashion and felt a smile form under his mask. Much as he wanted to come here merely for social pleasantries, he’d come to deliver a message. Blimey! He was starting to think like Charon.

“Alastair,” he began, “When the time comes I am going to do and say some things you may find questionable, but never forget who I am and what I have done up until this point. I will need your help along the way” Xanatos turned to face his old friend, “As I fear this burden is too heavy for my shoulders to hold alone.”

The two heroes shook hands, The Imperial had only to nod his head. Xan knew he would.

[Xanatos]

John Bishop was relaxing in uptown Founders Falls with his family. It was his youngest brothers birthday and the Bishop family had come together as usual to celebrate it. His Father Jacob Bishop, his mother Julia Bishop, his brothers Jeremiah, Jules, and James. With James being the cause for celebration. As they all sat around the dinner table, John Bishop thought a moment about his team-mates in the Justice Force. Most people, indeed all of his family had no idea he spent most nights as The Phantom Visage, flying around Paragon, delving into it's darkest secrets. It was safer that way, the moment your identity goes public, you paint a target on the ones you hold dear.

Lost in thought, John Bishop barely heard his mother as her head appeared from the kitchen door. She mouthed a few words at him - they were all out of milk. John nodded with a sly grin as he made his way towards the door, pausing for a few brief moments as he picked up his jacket, before braving the winter storm that had surrounded the Falls.

The drive to the shops was uneventful as always, the gangs had mostly gone inside or underground due to the weather. One Tsoo sorcerer had pushed his luck though, but when John went to run him over the little blighter had teleported away. John smiled at the thought of the Tsoo sorcerers possessing any kind of substantial "magic". Bloody posers.

Pulling up to the shop, John Bishop jogged quickly inside to avoid the snowfall. It was getting heavier. He walked briskly over to the dairy section, and began to look at the bottles of Milk. What was it his mother preffered again...

***

Vinnie 'The Mime" Johnson was a two-bit mafia hit man. He used to work for the super villain Showtime, but after the clown had gotten himself killed, Vinnie had to look for other work. And he'd received an anonymous tip that there was a big deal going down on Valor Bridge, Independence Port. His original intention was to intervene on the families behalf, but when he saw the two groups he was lax to do so. Fifth Column and the Tsoo. This wasn't going to be easy.

"Hello gentlemen, Sebastian Frost send his regards," said Vinnie as he approached the two groups. The mere mention of the Paragon Kingpin stopped any bullets heading in Vinnies direction, "Now what do we have here?"

The Tsoo sorceror who was perpetrating the deal looked noticeably ruffled as the Italian looking man approached. They had gone to extreme lengths to keep the family out of this - how on earth had this imbecile heard about the transactions?

As two dark shapes descended on the assembly, all concerns with a mere mobster were thrown from the sorcerers mind. Glancing forward with terror, The Sorcerer foudnhimself face-to-face with Skull and his sidekick Dark. This was not going to be good.

Guns began to blaze from the fifth column as they fired upon the two heroes, Tsoo inkmen leapt at them with knives drawn, and even Vinnie had pulled his "piece' to take pop shots. It was all futile though, as the heroes made short work of the crowd. Years of training and a healing factor made Skull all but unstoppable as he tore apart the Fifth Column. Dark had similar success in removing the Tsoo from play, using his natural agility and training to see him through the fight.

"These fools never learn" said Dark as he struck Vinnie in the temple, knocking the thug to the ground.

Skull was silent, crouching over the goods that had been on offer. It was a belt of some kind. Suddenly, Skulls commlink blazed into action as the voice of "Joe" - informant to most of the cities heroes - blazed in his ear:

"Skull there's been a crisis, Go to the Bishops House in Founders Falls, now!"

Skull nodded to no-one in particular and took off at a run. Used to poor communication from his mentor, Dark followed him as they headed towards Steel Canyon.

***

Dr John Bishop lay motionless on the floor. His eyes stung, and he could barely breath. He pushed himself to his feet, his gaze inadvertently traveling forwards. His family lay dead before him. Someone had murdered them.

Once again the doctor fell to the floor, his grief making it hard to breath, his eyes stinging from the tears that fell down his face. There was no way this could have happened, it must be a trick of some sort to catch him unawheres. John moved again, heading towards his father to check for a pulse. He stopped when he got there, his fathers throat was sliced open from ear to ear. There was no way he was alive. Sirens began to blaze outside, the Police had answered his call. And as the men in blue entered the building, John Bishop began to weep uncontrollably. There presence here made the whole thing real, there was no going back...

[Xanatos]

It is lonely at the top. Any two-bit celebrity can tell you that. But for Alastair Cromwell, internationally-recognized Superhero The Imperial, the singularity of being at the top was almost unbearable. Having learned of the kidnapping of Xanatos's daughter, The Imperial was busy searching for leads. At present he was picking through the computer files on his home computer at the Cromwell Estate. While not quite on par with Crey Industries, The computer mainframe of the Icons still housed an extensive superhuman library.

He sped through the records hoping for some clue. Morcalivan, Sovereign, Thog, Nemesis, Merlinus, The Grand Duke, Knuckles, Requiem, Emperor Superstellar, Van Helsing, Sir Mortis, Showtime, Vanessa Devore... The names continue to flow past, each lead as dead as the last, Almost literally in some cases.

He was stopped in his search by the phone. Answering it, The Imperial was suddenly met with a very cold and raspy Italian voice.

"Dial V for Vegas" said the caller, "We know Eleanor has."

The line went dead, and The Imperials face followed suit. Eleanor Pearl Heckler was The Imperials long-dead wife. She was not able to call anyone, unless...

Searching frantically through the files on the computer, The Imperial stops upon the file of Vegas The undead head of the undead Sicilian Mafia. A necromancer. A grave robber.

"No!" roared the hero as he flew flat-out of his mansion home, roaring through the night sky towards Dark Astoria. Towards the grave of his beloved.

***

The crypt of Eleanor Pearl Heckler was ironically filled with the buzz of life, from those who were not alive. Vegas's undead goons moved around the crypt, searching for the body of the long-dead woman. A low guttural moan which would have, at one point in the zombies life, have been a cry of joy rippled through the air. it seemed that someone had found her coffin.

As the assembled undead Mafioso’s began o move the coffin, a tall pale figure in a white Fedora began to bark orders.

"Be careful with her you fools," said Vegas, his magical Tommy gun clutched in his bone-white fingers, "He will be here any minute!"

As if on-cue the guards from outside the crypt flew through the air, crashed into the far wall of the crypt, and lay motionless on the floor. They were followed by the gigantious form of The Imperial, whose bulky form filled the only exit from the tomb.

"You!" he bellowed at Vegas.

"Me." said Vegas nonplussed, "Do not attack me, I have a proposition for you."

The Imperial just stood and stared at Vegas, his eyes burning with hatred as the Undead man continued to speak, the only thing holding him back was the knowledge he could wipe out the room in about half a second. Vegas included.

"You are a very lonely man Mr. Cromwell," said the undead capo, "I can fix that...I can bring Eleanor back."

The Imperial stood mystified, was it possible?

"And to alleviate any questions of how able I am to bring back the dead.." said Vegas as he pointed sideways towards a tall dark figure, "Please meet Ernie Wright- an old associate of yours from the World War Two era I believe."

As Ernie stepped forward, the Imperial recognized him instantly. He had been known as Spring-Fist during the Second World War, and had been a member of the Cosmic Crew - Xanatos's original super group. While The Imperial and Ernie had not been the closest of companions, they had still fought together during the war. Ernie had even managed to stand up to Lord Visigoth, The Imperials arch-nemesis, when he had taken over a small Nazi compound.

"Ow's it going mate?" said Ernie as he offered his glove, the crimson of his gauntlets shining in the firelight of the crypt.

The Imperial just stood there, his eyes shut as he weighed up the consequences. His brow furrowed as he contemplated what he was about to do. Some things rode above morals. And for Alastair Victor Cromwell, love was one of those things.

"I'm in," said The Imperial.

[Xanatos]

His legs ached. His arms hung lifeless by his sides. His eyes forced themselves open. Vinnie "the Mime" Johnson was running for his life through the backstreets of Paragon. Vinnie should have been at an advantage, he knew every alleyway, every back entrance, every hide-away. If he wasn't so doped up on chemicals he would have noticed the mafia-run restaurant he ran past, or the headquarters of two-bit supervillain "Killer Klown", an old accomplice of Vinnie's, that he ran past feverishly. Oh no, Vinnie was pumped up on drugs to the high heavens, he was an animal trying to function as a man, a basic primal rage being constantly fed panic and anxiety. He had no hope. He was as good as dead.

As he fell into the car-park of what used to be known as Club Infinity, a nightclub that had been shut down a long time ago in the Gish, he heard the sound of gunshots. Diving for cover, Vinnie felt the hard embrace of gravel as he rolled under the nearest rust-covered car. The Skulls were fighting someone - no doubt some low-rent superhero. Breathing a deep sigh of relieve that it was not his pursuer, Vinnie began to push himself forward with his legs. His arms still hung lay lifeless as he pulled them along with the rest of his body. Where would he go now that he'd lost his mysterious pursuer? Who would protect him? Not the family, after the Tsoo incident the family wasn't best pleased with Vinnie, truth be told they'd never been big fans. Perhaps he could ask that Crey guy for some protection - he'd been rather pleasant when they met in the bar, sure Vinnie had been suspicious of him at first but...

A rifle recoiled in the darkness as Vinnie's head exploded.

***

The glass fell to the table for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. It was still half full but it's possessor didn't have the strength to lift it. The wooden table that homed the glass was sticky and covered in alcohol, a jumbled mess of unattractive qualities. John Bishop did not consider the possibility that he had an alcohol problem - it was statistically high that most males used alcohol as a means of escapism from the stress of everyday life. But no matter how much he drank, the pain would not go.

The Glass fell to the table again and the phone began to ring.

***

They all sat in a subdued silence around the large meeting table. The heads of Paragons families and street gangs, all summoned together for one purpose. Business. Gang warfare had been on the increase, and each of the organizations in the room had been suffering. Business was business, but in Paragon there were too many obstacles. Vegas had called the meeting, and it was the largest meeting of Paragons Criminal Empire since the Rikti war. Discounting the assembled bodyguards, there were nine people sat around the table. Three trolls sat with what regality they could muster, the largest of the tree sporting an immaculate three piece suit. It was Sebastian Frost, the head of Paragons illustrious family. To his right sat Grendel, the founder and consigliore to the Don. To his left sat Atta, the current leader of the trolls, who was dressed for anything but the occasion. To HIS left sat Bonecrusher, the leader of the Skulls. Opposite them was Odysseus, the leader of the Warriors, flanked as he was by Frostfire and Nick Pocker, the leaders of The Outcasts and The Hellions respectively. Just behind FrostFire stood The Spark, his own consigliore. Tub Ci sat alone at the far end of the table, facing all of the gangs with distinct unease. Opposite him was Vegas himself.

"I thank you all for coming," began the undead Mafioso, "For those that do not know me, my name is Vegas. You do not need to know my real name." He pressed his cold white hands against the desk before continuing, "I called this meeting because I want in on the Superdyne and Artifacts rackets. Standard drugs and black market goods are not the future of business, and neither are Quantum guns, despite what the council would tell you..."

"You are a little man," said Tub Ci as he became animated, standing up in defiance, "You have no power in Paragon."

There was a general murmur of agreement as a sour look fell across Vegas's face.

"You would do well not to interrupt me Tang," said Vegas, mentioning Tub Ci by his Christian name, "Cheej and your fighting circuits are also of interest to me, you would do well not to cross me."

Lightning arced across the sky outside as it began to rain. The resounding thumping of water on the glass roof could be heard by everyone in the room, and it seemed to add a crescendo to what Vegas was saying. Hushed whispers invaded the room as each major player began to converse with each other. The whispering turned to speaking, before it became yelling amongst the criminal elite. As Sebastian Frost stared in silence at Odysseus, Atta and Frostfire exchanged verbal obscenities. Tub Ci's men had already begun to cock their weapons, which set a precedent for all others present in the room. As things began to get laree, the glass panels above the room shattered as someone was thrown through them from above.

The windows shattered suddenly as a body tumbled downwards. It smashed into the table with such a force that those sitting by it were thrown backwards. Splinters were thrown through the air before the body lay their still. Vegas stood emotionless as the others stared at the body that lay their barely breathing. It was Marcus Cole, the Statesman.

"Let me make you an offer you can't refuse," said Vegas to the stunned crowd in the room, "And trust me, you cannot refuse it."

As the criminals flocked towards Vegas, each one of them shaking his hand as a sign of respect, The Imperial stood alone on the roof of the building, a Black mask covering his face.