Civic Appeal [Community Story Arc RP Thread]

[Terminal]

Civic Appeal

A Community Story Arc on the Everlasting Server

 

 

Quote

Hello and welcome to the Civic Appeal RP thread. Civic Appeal is a Community Story Arc run as an overarching story and plot that is open to anybody and everybody on the Everlasting Server to participate in. Like other Community Story Arcs before it, Civic Appeal is predominantly run and operated on the Homecoming City of Roleplay Discord Server.

 

This thread exists mostly for the purposes of helping keep the Civic Appeal Story Channel a little neater and more compact, as well as serving as a place for participants to make associated IC posts for linking back to from the Discord. This thread is not otherwise intended to be play-by-post.

 

Please do not post in this thread except for Arc-Related, IC content. If you have any questions or want to express interest in the roleplay, please check out the Civic Appeal discussions channel in the City of Roleplay server. If you are not already a member, follow the link posted above and introduce yourself in the check-in thread. You can then gain access to the CSA channels by reacting to the Arc role in the #roles channel.

 

Quote

Civic Appeal has officially begun. Visit the Civic Appeal discussion channel on the City of Roleplay HC Server for more details about the Community Story Arc and how to participate. This thread is now open for general IC posting purposes as convenient to participants of the arc.

 

Edited June 21, 2024 by Terminal

[Terminal]

King's Row

The Gish

 

The last few years had not been kind to Lawrence Harken, former-leader demoted to spokesperson for the Citizens for Medi-Porters activist group. 

 

When he had first gotten involved with them, he had thought of himself as a hero, in his own way. Working with his neighbors and friends to make living in Paragon City safer for everybody, not just for heroes and the ultra-wealthy. Protesting in order to stick a thumb in the eye of Medicorp and to save lives doing it.

 

At the time, throwing in with Sergeant Stanfeld of the PPD and his idea to steal the next-generation Medipatch designs had seemed like the right thing to do. Medicorp had refused to budge on their position and had refused to say why, and Stanfeld had seemed like an upright authority figure who promised nobody would actually get hurt. That venture had ended with Lawrence being gutstabbed and left to die in a burning building, only to be hauled out by Field Agent Roy Cooling and sentenced to a months-long stint in the Zigg while undergoing physical therapy to recover from nerve damage from the stab-wound and smoke inhalation. In the end, Citizens for Medi-Porters had not even gotten what they wanted. After Medicorp's CEO had explained the risks entailed with their use, he had authorized their distribution to certain classes of ill and elderly residents of the city, which had seemed like a step in the right direction - only for insurance lobbying to cut their access to the Medicom network less than a year later.

 

He had technically gotten off lightly as far as his stay at the Zigg went - the judge had been lenient in light of his 'noble intentions.' The experience still was not one he liked to dwell on - his cellmates had been a 5th-Column Neo-Nazi who was overly obsessed with physical fitness and getting reps in at every hour of the day, and a Vahzilok surgeon who kept trying to make improvised shivs and had a tendency of staring eerily at people while they slept. When he finally got out, he was walking on a cane and had been informed that having a convicted criminal as the head for Citizens for Medi-Porters 'wasn't a good look,' though they had still kept him on as a Spokesperson in light of his efforts.

 

He had also been forced to find a new apartment since the tenancy management board for his building in Gimry Ridge evidently did have a problem with a convicted criminal renting there. Whatever else could be said about his new residence in King's Row, at least it was cheap - in part due to the killing that had transpired there earlier that year and also due to all the unexplained disappearances.

 

So when Lawrence came home and started scrolling through newsfeeds on his Creyphone, he could not help but feel a twinge of resentment in light of what he found.

 

Quote

A Paragon News Network Story!

 

...an anonymous informant from within the Rhode Island statehouse has disclosed to PNN news of an upcoming Ballot Question that is being structured  concerning a state subsidy addressing healthcare for registered Superheroes! Although the informant declined to provide firm details, they indicated that the tentatively structured 'Question 1' Bond Issue is being drawn up to provide 'common sense' reprieve from a certain longstanding issue with healthcare for Superheroes in Paragon City and surrounding counties...

 

Lawrence could not help but feel a twinge of impulsive anger at the headline. He knew better than most how dangerous being a superhero was, but after all these years, seeing nothing but more and more state and federal laws and regulations drafted for their benefit rather than for the ordinary people they were protecting struck a nerve. Superheroes had the benefits and capabilities to walk off death on a regular basis even before factoring in the nigh-miraculous healthcare they had access to, and whenever any of them actually bit the bullet they usually had statues built in their honor. But if a pedestrian was eaten alive on the sidewalk in King's Row by an actual demon from hell when no hero was around to stop it, that was just too bad, wasn't it? No Medicom network access, no boundless healing powers or force fields, no miraculous resurrection and backing away from death's doorstep at the last moment. 

 

Lawrence took a moment to collect himself and cool down. The memory of the fiasco with Sergeant Stanfeld was still fresh in his mind, even years later, and he could already hear the PR team telling him that holding it against Heroes for all the benefits they received was a misguided position. But he was still going to have to do something - and after all, election season was coming up. If Healthcare for Heroes was going to be on the ballot, why couldn't more substantive healthcare for everybody else in the meantime also be considered?

 

He dialed an old friend currently on the board for Citizens for Medi-Porters less than a minute later. "Russel? It's Lawrence. Check out PNN's latest newsfeed and talk to Ross about sending out a newsletter. I think it's time we made ourselves heard again..."

Edited June 18, 2024 by Terminal

[Terminal]

Quote

A WSPDR MEDIA BLITZ!

 

"...And this is John Houston coming to all our viewers in Cap au Diable live with stunning news from the mainland! The Rhode Island statehouse is drafting a new ballot issue - a little something that all the citizens actually get to vote on in the next election while exercising their otherwise curtailed civil liberties. Currently known only as the uninspired 'Question 1,' it's going to address Healthcare for the masked, government-sponsored terrorist vigilantes they have running around maintaining their police-state! _{Wow this script is a little on the nose...}"

 

"The courageous informants who brought us this news from the mainland say that there is not much yet in the way of concrete details, but that there are already strong indications that Question 1 is going to concern Medical Debt! As some of our viewers may already know, one of the only things curtailing the otherwise rampant brutality of so-called 'Heroes' in Paragon City are the fees and insurance rates they have to pay for access to emergency medical care. Healthcare Insurance Providers there are so efficient that they even hike up individual rates for vigilantes if their backs so much as touch the ground, even if they don't wind up having to go to the hospital over it. A sterling example of the benefits and economic dividends of unregulated industry monopolies that even businesses here in the Etoiles could stand to learn from! _...Really?"

 

"Needless to say, if this ballot issue passes, vigilantes from the mainland may become far more brazen with their unprovoked acts of aggression against the people of the Etoiles, secure in the knowledge they will no longer even need to pay for the mistake of going up against Arachnos after they are sent back home to lick their wounds..."

 

Arbiter Daos paused the video for the large wall-mounted viewscreen in his typically spartan Grandville office - which save for the ornate window providing a spectacular view of the Spider CIty main square and the rich red carpeting, remained as overcrowded with black-metal devices as any other Arachnos facility. He turned to face Viridian and Shadow Spider with a gaze he usually reserved for people he was about to sentence to death or have disappeared, though if the two Spymasters were feeling any apprehension they were hiding it well.

 

"Marshal Brass was kind enough to send me this advance screening of WSPDR's upcoming news cycle. What I found particularly interesting though, is that I first heard of this Ballot Initiative that might eliminate medical debt for Heroes from John Houston several months after I would normally expect to receive intelligence of this nature from either of you. Explain."

 

"...Our contacts in the Rhode Island Statehouse were evidently blindsided by this and only learned of it at the start of today's legislative session." Shadow Spider answered, standing at ease and evidently completely unconcerned. "Most of the house representatives also seemed to have no prior anticipation of the proposal."

 

"Crey also owns most of the house, to boot. Nobody in there has - should have - the nerve to try and pull a stunt like this." Viridian added immediately after, so seamlessly that it might as well have been rehearsed between the two of them. "From what we know, the draft for the initiative was announced on the floor after having been drawn up during closed session, which itself was scheduled in response to a suggestion for review of medical insurance regulations and guidelines earlier this month, though there was no directed action suggested at the time. No indication of who the big movers are on the proposal, and seemingly everybody is in lockstep on this after that same session. Short of picking reps up for a quick talk one by one there is not much to go on just yet."

 

"Crey owns the house? As if we don't also have investments there?" Daos planted his knuckles on his desk as the question was fired off.

 

"Our investments there are less...direct than Crey's." Shadow Spider answered. "Our monitoring of their accounts has also shown no unusual activity. This was either completely spontaneous on their part or was very, very carefully planned out and insulated. My own assets have been running assessments as to whether this is a mind control or subversion op by Nemesis, the Restructurists, the Carnival of Shadows or even the Clockwork. There is zero indication so far of any undue influence at play other than the...uncharacteristic finesse and operational security that seems to have been involved."

 

"I had a word or six with a few of our local Crey Biotech's managers and board members." Viridian neatly picked up the moment Shadow Spider stopped talking. "They're all acting like they've been blindsided by this as well. Their accounting division is exploding over it. I was also able to personally intercept and partially decrypt an excerpt from one of Director 4's now-former couriers which...suggested Malta's leadership might not have been in the loop on this. Meaning whatever the cause, its push did not come from within the federal government."

 

"That is perhaps the only reason I am not asking you these questions inside a cell." Daos' voice scythed through the air to accompany his murderous leering. "Everyone seems to have been caught off-guard by this. Arachnos does not reward you for simply keeping pace with the opposition however. I expect Lord Recluse's servants to excel. You two are supposedly the most feared intelligence specialists on the planet. If you do not get me adequate intelligence on this issue soon, that is going to change." Daos practically spat. "Get out. You had better have results for Arachnos on this matter when next I see you."

Edited June 18, 2024 by Terminal

[Terminal]

Rhode Island Statehouse

 

Representative Lewis Michaels, the Vice Chair of the Rhode Island Finance Committee, ducked furtively through the ostensibly secure rear entrance to the statehouse - even around the back the swarm of reporters and paparazzi clamoring to take his comment from beyond the perimeter fence was staggeringly immense. He hadn't ever seen newsreel crowds that large in person before, especially not when they were interested in him - but he found himself too distracted by a certain, different kind of attention to fully appreciate it. Interspersed amongst the crowd at the fence were perhaps half a dozen men and women in black suits and with conspicuous cybernetics. Crey Agents - it was as bad as he had been dreading. His otherwise doting patron was making their displeasure apparent, and there was no telling when the agents would stop staring menacingly and start troubleshooting both figuratively and literally. He needed to find Ruthven, fast.

 

Lewis did not have to search for Ruthven for long. As the chair of the Finance Committee, he had an office in the chambers of the Rhode Island Treasurer, and therein he sat staring out the window and drinking directly from a bottle of scotch.

 

"Ruthven, what the hell is going on?" Lewis hissed as he slipped into the office, snapping the door shut behind him as he did so. "There are cyborg ninjas in the street outside! What the hell happened during closed session?"

 

"...You really needed to have been here, Mick." Ruthven groaned before taking another long pull of scotch.

 

"Just tell me!" Lewis seethed.

 

"About halfway into the closed session we got a surprise video conference call from the Nobility." Ruthven cut him off, tiredly setting down the scotch on his desk.

 

"The Nobility-" Lewis froze as a chill crept across his neck. The Nobility was the inner-circle byword for one of their patrons. It was something of an open secret in the house, but only the Committee Chairs knew their identity. "Personally?"

 

"Personally." Ruthven rubbed at his eyes. "They used a filter, but it was them. The whole ballot initiative was their idea, pitched it to us along with the reminder of election season was coming up and that they imagined there were a lot of prospective campaign contributions at stake. A lot of the others were just thrilled by the suggestion because it's a vote winner and the main opposition to it would have been..." Ruthven trailed off and waved a hand vaguely in insinuation.

 

"The Nobility suggested it." Lewis deadpanned.

 

"Yes."

 

"The Nobility."

 

"Fucking yes, Mick, it was them."

 

"And you're sure this isn't something like-like Arachnos subterfuge, or a Nemesis Plot?"

 

"If only. No. They used the tell, and we called in to verify it mid-session."

 

"Then why the hell are they acting so threatened?" Lewis gestured out the window. "They haven't told anybody else or made any announcements-"

 

"I don't know, Mick, and quite frankly I don't want to know." Ruthven groaned. "I assume they have their reasons. I had a private call with them after the closed session and they assured me none of us are in any danger. Bennet says the Senate is almost certainly going to confirm the Initiative, I can only assume they've also had an audience recently, and from there it's going to be in the people's hands. None of this is going to stick to us."

 

"Do you need your vision checked? Explain all of that!" Lewis fumed as he jabbed at the window.

 

"Look - it's business as usual. People are going to be excited over it for a few weeks and then forget it about it, you know how it goes." Ruthven made an effort at sounding self-assured, but his hand was trembling faintly as he reached back out for the scotch. "The one thing they did disclose was that if we wanted to pass anything like this - doing it this way is the best and safest measure. No forewarning in advance, nobody else tipped off - initiative gets drawn up and voted through first thing tomorrow before anybody can try anything stupid to stop it, and from there it is entirely out of our hands. It was the best way to keep the heat off us."

 

Lewis hesitated as he thought over it for a moment. On its face, it almost sounded reasonable. Coming out with a ballot initiative of this nature without any prior announcements meant no getting threatened or harassed to try and sabotage or sink it before the vote happened, and if the main opposition to it getting passed had actually promised them protection, then there were no downsides he could think of. The only people who stood to lose from the ballot initiative going into effect if the people voted in favor of it were criminal elements.

 

'...and the person who suggested it...!' Lewis' mind raced as he tried to come to grips with the implications. "You realize this means they probably have some kind of ulterior-"

 

"Mick. Let it go." Ruthven cut him off. "Count your blessings. None of whatever might happen is on us. It is going to our constituents to vote on, that's about as bulletproof as we can get as far as policy goes."

 

Lewis hesitated again briefly before uttering a hesitant question: "...Do you have a copy of measure text?" Ruthven wordlessly slid a sheet of paper on his desk across to Lewis to read.

 

Quote

BI - Question 1

Purpose: Issue bonds subsidizing standard municipal medical treatment of registered or otherwise deputized vigilantes, masked crimefighters, and/or heroes (as defined by the Citizen Crime Fighting Act). Revenue for these bonds are to be sourced from the property taxes of licensed hero organizations, not to include hero organizations subsidized according to state or federal guidelines.

 

The actual bond proposal would be well over thirty pages long from what Lewis could guess, but the measure text would be what would actually appear on the Ballot. The very last statement caught his eye. "...How many super groups are there even that are not subsidized by state guidelines?" He asked, a creeping suspicion already in mind.

 

"Exactly one." Ruthven answered. They both spoke the name aloud.

 

"...Crey Corporation's Paragon Protectors."

[Terminal]

A PARAGON NEWS NETWORK STORY!

 

"...and following up on yesterday's news where an anonymous source told PNN of a new Ballot Initiative addressing Superhero Healthcare, the report is now confirmed to have been correct. In a stunningly swift period of time, the Rhode Island House Committee of Finance emerged from Closed Session and immediately called for a vote on the Question 1 Bond Issue, which passed with a staggering 80% majority. The Bond Issue then advanced to the Senate earlier today and was confirmed by another overwhelming majority vote of 76%. Question 1's formal proposal has since been released to the public on the Rhode Island government website, along with a preview of the current text of the measure that will be displayed on the Ballot itself this November. We shift now over to our field reporter Chuck Wendig, who is interviewing Representative Manzini of the Rhode Island House now."

 

The focus shifts to a wide-angle shot of reporter Chuck Wendig standing in Atlas Plaza with Representative Manzini.

 

"...Thank you Anthony, Chuck Wendig here with Representative Manzini who has graciously agreed to answer a few questions and explain some of the nuances of the bond issue. Representative, what exactly is the Bond Issue, how did it manage to get passed through both the state House and Senate in record time, and why has it never been proposed before?"

 

"Well Chuck, the exact measure text, which I'll just read aloud here, is as follows:"

 

Quote

BI - Question 1

Purpose: Issue bonds subsidizing standard municipal medical treatment of registered or otherwise deputized vigilantes, masked crimefighters, and/or heroes (as defined by the Citizen Crime Fighting Act). Revenue for these bonds are to be sourced from the property taxes of licensed hero organizations, not to include hero organizations subsidized according to state or federal guidelines.

 

"...and for those of you watching now who might not be familiar with them, this wording is not particularly unusual for the measure text of a Bond Issue, they are worded to be succinct, straightforward, and to use ordinary, everyday language where possible. So the Bond Issue is exactly what it states, it is a provision to provide money, collected by way of property taxes, to hospitals and healthcare insurance provides for the purpose of ensuring the heroes of Rhode Island will not have to take on medical debt or pay for most forms of healthcare."

 

"So essentially free healthcare for heroes, representative?"

 

"Not quite entirely free Chuck, the bond issue subsidizes standard medical care, but in the case of superheroics and crimefighting that is an impressively broad scope of care that addresses most medical conditions and injuries. There are bound to be a few exceptions here and there, but otherwise it is fairly close to free healthcare."

 

"Right, right, I suppose it would have to be broad given the diversity of metahuman health issues."

 

"Now as to why this issue has never really come up before, it's mostly to do with state revenue. You might note the bond stipulates that the revenue for these payments are being sourced from property taxes, but it does not impose any. So essentially we are just earmarking certain taxes that are already being paid for this purpose, and that has only now become possible due to a little bit of recent flexibility in the state budget as of late due to the fair weather economy we have had over the past year and a half."

 

In the distance, the sounds of chanting become audible, growing closer.

 

"So if nobody has to pay more taxes for this, essentially this is just purely government sponsored healthcare?"

 

"I'm going to have to correct you a little bit there Chuck, it is just government funded, we do not want to get too out of hand with overregulation of private healthcare. In particular we drafted- what the hell?"

 

The camera pulls back in focus, revealing a group of perhaps two-dozen people with picket signs with various slogans, centered around the theme of providing Citizens with access to Mediporters. The figure of Lawrence Harken, a spokesperson for the Citizens for Mediporters group, shoves his way as close to the camera as he can manage with the representative's bodyguards holding him at bay.

 

"Justice for the citizens of Paragon City! Mediporter technology could save more lives than even the fastest super-speeding hero, but Medi-Corp has kept access to this essential technology restricted to only the heroes of Paragon City and the Ultra-Wealthy for too long! Even the PPD do not have regular access to this vital tool, despite being on the frontlines of Paragon City's crime epidemic every single day! You ivory-tower politicians with your corporate funding will not continue to get away with your virtue-signaling when the ordinary men, women, and children who live here have to pay for it with their blood-"

 

The focus shifts back to the PNN Studio, where Anthony Wood carries on.

 

"...PNN thanks Representative Manzini once again for volunteering time to have a quick word with us on this topic. According to the Statehouse sources, Bond Issue Question 1 will be on the ballot this November during the general elections. We encourage our viewers to review the full public proposal at RI.gov and to make sure they are registered to vote..."

 

Quote

Civic Appeal has officially begun. Visit the Civic Appeal discussion channel on the City of Roleplay HC Server for more details about the Community Story Arc and how to participate. This thread is now open for general IC posting purposes as convenient to participants of the arc.

 

Edited June 21, 2024 by Terminal

[Terminal]

Crey Industries Corporate HQ, Kallisti Wharf

 

Crey Corporation's board of directors had collectively been having a week most charitably described as 'harried.' As they filed into the boardroom, half of them with bags under their eyes or wired on some manner of stimulant - or both - they were all frisked in turn by a stern, cybernetically-augmented agent before being permitted to take a seat at the table. The splendor of the decor was largely wasted on them. The bedazzling windowed panorama of downtown Christie, the varnished wooden floors and the marble-topped desk emblazoned with the Crey Industries logo, the luxurious leather-and-silk highbacked chairs, the decadent array of aged beverages available at the bar near the front of the room: None of it mattered to any of them, as each and every one of them had a net worth greater than most states. What did matter was the conspicuous absence of a certain personage from amongst their number - one who held no formalized position in the Company proper, beyond being one of its co-founders and for whom it was named. An absence that struck everybody assembled there with its portent.

 

Evidently in a hurry to get straight to business, Paget Wertz - the CEO of Crey Industries - took a seat directly at the head of the table and spoke. "Everyone, get seated, let's get right to it. I have called everybody here today to address the completely unmitigated meltdown going on out there."

 

"So it was you who called us here, and not the Countess?" Simmons Arkozan, the President of Crey Industries, asked from the opposite head of the table as he took a seat.

 

"The Countess, while an estimable member of our gathering, was not invited to preside over today's meeting for reasons that will become evident shortly." Paget replied curtly. "To get into what I mean - Jacoby, please share our projected losses with everyone."

 

Jacoby, Crey Industries CFO, had already brought out his Creytop Tablet Computer and hooked into the holographic projector built into the table, using it to draw up a number of graphs and financial summaries. "Based solely on the loss of external revenue from Crey Biotech alone, we are looking at a net loss of tens of billions of dollars in the following fiscal quarter post election. Hundreds of billions over the course of the next year. Between Crey Care Insurance policy writeoffs, expenditures for medicinal fungibles and tools, and private equity turnover of various hospitals and complexes, nearly 12% of Crey Industry's entire net worth is wrapped up in the provision of private healthcare to Metahumans, and 10 of that 12% comes from healthcare for registered superheroes. In regards to our stock, Crey Biotech is now being shorted on the exchange and is down by over a hundred points since the last time we met, and that is expected to triple our losses overall."

 

"Or the short version: She fucked us." Paget practically spat as he slammed a hand down on the table. A number of the boardmembers presently visibly flinched while others had adopted looks of dismayed bemusement. "Let's not dance around this, we all know who is behind this. This is another one of the Countessa's obscene, ludicrous master plan vanity projects that is going to cost us everything in exchange for a whole lot of absolutely nothing. What Jacoby here has not told you, has been that more than a dozen of our facilities in Paragon and the Isles have both been hit in just the last few days alone - entailing a loss of confidential records, information, and proprietary technology that is doubtlessly going to lose us even more as a consequence. Of course, to put a cherry on top of it, my fourth manor was raided by the FBI last night and I expect most of you are on their list as well!" As Paget carried on, his tone grew in volume and in its bitter, underlying acrimony.

 

"Before anybody here says anything else that we all might regret later," Simmons interjected, "Perhaps we should look for a way to play off of this, adapt to the changing circumstances of the market and write-off the projected losses? While the projections are...very nearly unprecedented, I do not see why our standard operating procedures should not suffice here, and I am certain the Countess - if indeed she is even the one who is 'responsible' for these project losses, a remote hypothetical for which I harbor severe doubts - has the best interests of Crey Industries at heart."

 

"Your heart, through your back from where she had your spine surgically removed you twittering imbecile!" Paget sneered. "Countess Crey is not some demoness of out legend. We can put a stop to this - to her and all of her vile schemes - for good. Here and now. We have quorum. All it takes is a single vote of no confidence, simple majority between everyone here, and we can take back control of our livelihoods and go back to being the most respected and prevalent megacorporation on the face of the planet."

 

Everybody sat at the table had gone visibly pale and were finding any and every excuse to look anywhere except at Paget, who tried to force a look with each of them in turn. "Well? What are you all just sitting there in silence for? Nothing intelligent to say? No piercing insights or observations?"

 

"I believe they were waiting for a rebuttal...Mr. Paget." 

 

For a moment a chill ran up Paget's spine, but to his credit he managed to grit his teeth and rise from his seat and stand at his full height as he turned.

 

Countess Crey herself stood at the door to the boardroom. Unlike the rest of the assembled boardmembers, she seemed completely at ease - dressed as though she had just walked off a fashion runway, with skin as smooth and pristine as ivory and the ghost of a smile tracing her lips.  The cyborg agent who has frisked each of the board members on the way in had evidently deferentially opened it for her without any fuss whatsoever. Her personal bodyguard, Hopkins - a gigantic glacier of a man who must have weighed well over eight hundred pounds in pure muscle even before all the discrete cybernetic augmentations - stood like some outlandish sculpted monolith at her side, moving with eerie mechanical precision and scarcely any sound.

 

"Countess...A pleasure to see you in good health, as always." His words were civil, but his voice nonetheless trembled with poorly concealed rage. "However, I regret to inform you, this is not a debate. It is a simple procedural measure and your input is not required at this time." He then raised a hand and waved to the guards standing in each corner of the room. "Security, if you would be so kind as to escort the Countess from the premises? There is important business to be conducted and I am afraid only official members of the Board of Directors are permitted to be present for it." 

 

Paget smiled savagely at the Countess, who raised a single eyebrow in anticipation. None of the guards moved - none of them so much as craned their necks to look in Paget's direction.

 

"Mr. Paget." The Countess said, her voice chiming with every accentuated syllable she spoke. "I am afraid you have been caught up in the machine of legal fiction they manage for me on the seventy-second floor. You seem to be suffering from the belief that Crey Industries is an incorporated body - a conglomerate of mutual financial interests and industries that all exist for the sake of generating wealth and providing goods and services to a paying society of consumers." She smiled at him - and Paget had to resist the impulse to take a step back as some primal, instinctual impulse of unfettered terror shot through his veins. Sweat starting pouring down his arms and brows. 

 

"That is not the case. Allow me to elucidate: Crey Industries is just a legal name. A contrivance really. In fact, there is simply me, my name, and my holdings - my chattel, if you will. I commend you for your remarkable concern over how recklessly you believe me to be employing them, but, at the end of the day as it seems I must remind you: I am Countessa Clarissa van Dorn. All of Crey's wealth is mine to spend as I see fit. All of Crey's assets are mine to use as I designate...and all of you are to Do As I Say, When I Say, As I Say It."

 

Paget Wertz had come a long way in Crey Industries, and like most of its higher executives he had not done so cleanly. He had done so with sweat and blood (mostly others') and no small number of murders and conspiracy. A sensible person might have backed down then and attempted to save face - but Paget Wertz was not a sensible person. He was one accustomed to the corridors and mannerisms of unfettered power, and when he did not get his way, he was not afraid to press the issue to the fullest measure he could muster. So he then committed to the unthinkable and drew his Crey Security^© Resolver™ Machine Pistol from inside his jacket and pointed it directly at her.

 

"You think you can do whatever you want just because you've got some nerve and the will to use it?" Paget snarled. "The way you'd have it, you're some Queen and everyone here's your slave? Newsflash, bitch, if you don't hide that's it's just all about you, then nobody is going to come to your aid when somebody comes to topple you - just like everybody here is going to benefit once you're out of the picture and not calling the shots. There is no reality where you come out on top here. Everything here says I win! I've got the law, the position, the title, the power - and the gun! All you have is your preening and pretending to be a supervillain when you're really just another stupid, idiot child!"

 

Paget pulled the trigger. In the enclosed space, the report of the shot was deafening - and it did not stop.

 

The bullet, accelerated into a terrifying spin by the rifling in the pistol's barrel, did not stop - it continued to spin in place as it hung in the air in front of the Countess' head, seeming to quiver and radiate wavering heat as she looked down at it.

 

Then, with a simple tilt of her head and a dismissive, annoyed squint - the bullet abruptly reversed its trajectory, flying back across the room and burying itself in Paget's gut, causing him to choke out in shock and instantly collapse, an arc of blood spraying out and splashing across his chair and the boardroom table.

 

"Hopkins?" The Countess practically purred as she looked down at Paget as he writhed in anguish on the floor. "Would you please be so kind as to give Mr. Paget here his Golden Parachute?"

 

Moments later, one of the tempered ballistic glass panes for the panoramic view around the boardroom, rated to stop anti-tank rounds, shattered into thousands of pieces as Paget - screaming - was bodily thrown through it, shattering every bone in his body in the process. The man mercifully went into shock and died scant fractions of a second later before he began the long, long journey down to the ground, more than a hundred floors down.

 

Countess Crey daintily spun Paget's chair around - still covered in his blood - and took her seat at the head of the table, evidently wholly unconcerned with the stains as she lay her sleeves directly on the array of crimson rivulets still running across the table. All of the board members afforded her their full attention: None of them dared to look away, in spite of the mixed terror and awe that had seized upon them all.

 

"Now then - as to the true purpose of this meeting - I am here today to reassure all you fine members of the board that the business of Crey Industries is well in hand. I can see how some of you might be skeptical of why I directed the Rhode Island Statehouse to propose Question 1 and authorized them to vote in favor of it. You might also be wondering why I did not see fit to inform any of you of my decision in advance, or what we might possibly stand to gain from the Initiative if it passes. As a recently introduced business partner of mine might be apt to say: The trick to it is simply to arrange circumstances so that there is no outcome where you do not benefit..."

 

888888888888

 

A PARAGON NEWS NETWORK STORY!

 

"...and in the latest of news concerning the Question 1 Ballot Initiative, in yet another unexpected turn, the Initiative has gained perhaps one of the most unexpected advocates and sponsors. We are shifting now over to our own star journalist Carmine Candor for an exclusive interview with the allegedly reformed former supervillain known as Science Lord Rixis. Coming up next, right after this commercial break."

 

After a five-minute long span of commercials for Ascendant-O's (now with 100% less Xenonite), the new Creyphone 24, and Cage Consortium's new on-the-go breakfast product designed alongside Aeon Corp: Super Triple Fructuse Yum Flavored Nutripaste, the focus shifts to a view of a public office in Atlas Park, where reporter Carmine Candor is sat across from the comically overproportioned humanoid robotic frame piloted by the Nictus entity known as Science Lord Rixis.

 

"Hello again viewers, Carmine Candor here with Science Lord Rixis who requested this meeting and interview. Rixis, I understand you have an announcement of some kind concerning the pending Ballot Initiative?"

 

"That's right, delicious starfish rind!" Science Lord Rixis itself is nothing less than a full-blown, unbounded Nictus emanation, floating just above the control interface for a giant-sized robotic frame rendered with a silver and cyan-blue turquoise scheme. Their voice is entirely electronically synthesized. The projected audio is so loud and bombastic that even through a microphone and a realtime audio playback, it causes vibrations to run through one's teeth. "I am here today to announce that I and my Cimmerian Path are formally sponsoring the Initiative, and over the course of the next several months we will be hosting a number of charity fundraisers and events in order to raise awareness for the Initiative itself and a number of the social issues it addresses, as well as some which it does not but that we hope might be someday soon!"

 

"Well Rixis, not to sound prejudicial, but when most people look at you and see a member of the Nictus, and somebody who openly identifies as being a former supervillain, why should they want to listen to anything you have to say - about the initiative or otherwise?"

 

"Why, because this is Polygon City! A city of heroes! There are hundreds of heroes just like me who used to be villains but managed to redeem themselves, turning over a new leaf to borrow Human parlance! The summoner-formerly-known-as Desdemona, the fearsome Miss Thystle and the stalwart Blast Furnace just to name a few! That is exactly why this initiative is so important, not only to me, but for everyone. It is about change: The base change necessary for society, for civilization itself, to improve! This is about coming together to improve circumstances for everybody!"

 

"And what would you say to the sentiment from certain groups, such as Citizens for Mediporters, that this Initiative only deepens the divide between ordinary civilians and crimefighters, especially when the provision of medical teleporters should hypothetically and tangibly save more lives, whereas Question 1 is just a 'luxury ballot' to improve the quality of life for an elite class?"

 

"My utterly nonexistent organic vital fluid pump goes out to Citizens for Mediporters, whatever your name is again! Here is an expert take from a real Science Lord for you here: They are absolutely right. It is absolutely something that should be, and that needs to be addressed! The sooner the better! But that is not where we are right now. They are opposing the bill because it does not immediately and perfectly address their concerns, because to them it seems like the very representatives they elect to govern them are not legislating with the best interests of their constituents in mind - but if everybody dug in their heels and refused to walk forward just because the path ahead was not perfectly paved, nobody would ever get anywhere! Sometimes you have to take a path that is a little rougher around the edges, to borrow more Human parlance, to make things a little better incrementally, and to make it possible for things to continue to improve. For that very reason, I intend to reach out to Citizens for Mediporters later this week and invite a number of their Spokespeople to my next upcoming charity event so that we can raise awareness for all of the important, relevant issues surrounding the Initiative, and also to try and reach common ground with them."

 

"It is interesting you should talk about improving how things are for everybody, Rixis - is it not your public stance that Warshades are traitors to your people and that Kheldians are terrorist elements? We have several pertinent clips of you saying things very much to that effect. Wouldn't this initiative benefit them as well? And do you imagine your sponsorship itself, given your views and your continued public association with the Path of the Dark, might in fact drive negative voter turnout?"

 

"...The initiative, and my sponsorship, are about improving circumstances for everybody, starfish rind! EVERYBODY. If there is nothing else your viewers take away from this interview right now, it is that: There is nobody who will not benefit from the Initiative passing come the election this Norwegian!"

 

"This November you mean?"

 

"I do not actually care what its name is, whoever you are! Once again as well, the point of the sponsorship is change - a change for the better. I am a reformist of the Path of the Dark. Ours is a Scientific, Immortalist Philosophy - improving upon life is its entire goal. For too long, my kin within the Path of the Dark - for whom I will make no excuses - have been blinded by the myopic need to conquer and rule the Earth. It is time they all stop living in the past and turn the nobility of our Grand Science to benefit everybody we share this beautiful world with - that is why I am sponsoring the Initiative, and that is why I am asking that you, listeners, reflect upon! Societal change for the better is never painless or without effort, but if you refuse to move forward just because the way ahead is not perfectly clear? You may as well be no different than the radical elements of my people, still lost in the dark, unable to let go of their suffering in the moment."

 

"And what would you say to the argument that while radical changes of this nature might be necessary, that either society or perhaps, more pertinently, the city's technological infrastructure, are not prepared for such shifts?"

 

"Why, whatever your name is, I think you already well know what the answer to that question is! This is the Age of Heroes! Humanity is blessed with genius and talent the likes of which I have scarcely borne witness to since last I fled noble, bygone Kheldia. Back when I was still a supervillain, and even today on a bi-weekly basis when I am accosted on the street by heroes who mistaken believe me to still be a supervillain, I am reminded, at length, verbally, of the boundless and indomitable nature of the Human spirit and your determination as a species to overcome any threat or failing! I have every faith that come this Norwegian-" _{"November." "Nobody cares -} "that, presented will all the information, everybody will make the correct choice! Thank you for having me, remember to check the status of your voter registration, and remember to vote in the upcoming election!"

[Terminal]

A PARAGON NEWS NETWORK STORY!

 

Absolutely shocking news for our viewers today as the city is haunted by the ghost of the Praetorian Invasion. While attending a local protest in Founders Fall by the Citizens for Mediporters group, the hero known as Fire Simian detected the influence of a hostile psychic attempting to compel the protestors to violence! The daring hero managed to track down the psychic and apprehend them before anybody was seriously injured. While a few protestors were detained by the PPD due to hostilities briefly flaring, everybody was later released as the PPD concluded they were not responsible for their actions.

 

The Psychic in question, when questioned by the PPD after they were turned in by Fire Simian, turned out to be a Praetorian Seer who had been freed from Praetor Tilman's oppressive network who then later joined the Praetorian Resistance - and later, joined Arachnos when parts of the Resistance fled the fall of Praetorian to the Rogue Isles. This discovery came at the same time as a release from the Governor of Rhode Island's office indicating they had evidence establishing that Arachnos was intending to interfere with the upcoming November election by using Psychics trained in the manner of Praetorian Seers to influence the behavior of the public.

 

Arachnos was quick to disavow the Fortunata and group who were involved with the incident, claiming that the Arachnos Operatives apprehended at the scene were in fact rogue elements of the Warburg Clique, and was quick to offer Federal Agents supporting evidence and information. Just when it looked like things were about to reach an uncharacteristically cooperative end, an utterly stunning news report was released by the Rogue Isles news organization, WSPDR...

 

888888888888

 

A WSPDR MEDIA BLITZ!

 

...this is Amanda Vines coming to our viewers live in an exclusive interview with none other than Arbiter Daos himself, leader of the Arbiter Corps, following a stunning show of force in Nerva Archipelago yesterday which ended with the world-famous Ms. Liberty herself being arrested and handed into the custody of agents from Interpol by Arachnos forces. Arbiter Daos, would you care to comment on what prompted this to occur?

 

"Amanda, the matter is simple: Longbow is an international terrorist organization, and Ms. Liberty is its leader. On multiple occasions, Longbow has violated international sovereignty in order to invade the shores of Grandville, sending amassed forces to sabotage critical urban infrastructure and to either assassinate or abduct political officials. This is all beyond any form of doubt, as Arachnos possesses a slew of evidence and eyewitness testimony from thousands of different sources - all of which will be admitted during Ms. Liberty's incipient trial. For too long, Longbow has operated under the supposed guise of being a 'private military corporation,' completely beyond and above the laws and regulation of any governing body. It is my position, as well of that of Arachnos at large, that this has been a long time coming."

 

"May I ask how it is Arachnos was able to abd- _ahem- apprehend Ms. Liberty, given she was in Nerva Archipelago at the time?"

 

"You refer, of course, to Nerva Archipelago's status as an American protectorate. Arachnos forces were not involved in her arrest, and from what I have been told a local mercenary known as 'Atrax' was ultimately responsible for apprehending, transporting, and delivering Ms. Liberty into Arachnos custody - which is when we, in full compliance with the outstanding warrant for her arrest, immediately contacted Interpol and arranged for her to be remanded into their custody. Atrax himself appears to have acted based entirely on the writ of the warrant itself as well, and thus the arrest was fully legal even within the laws of the United States. This is for the best, since had they not acted, it is likely the utterly corrupt police state of Rhode Island would have refused to comply with Interpol's request to extradite Ms. Liberty."

 

"Do you truly believe that Interpol will convict Ms. Liberty, given the multiple implications of corruption by the official who drafted and signed Ms. Liberty's initial warrant?"

 

Arbiter Daos' eyes narrow ever so faintly, and he makes the faintest of motions with his right hand. The camera view abruptly cuts out and back to the WSPDR studio.

 

"...Wait, we're li- ah -and there you have it viewers! Justice for the people of the Etoiles at long last for the multitude of atrocities and crimes perpetrated against them and the illustrious regime of our fair and noble ruler, Lord Recluse. We will have more information available for you on this topic shortly as we continue to cover the circumstance of Ms. Liberty's detainment...

[Terminal]

Sharkhead Isle

 

Things had been going well for Operative Vargas recently.

 

He had long been the prospective 'rising Star' in Arachnos - for what felt like over a decade now. He had always been scheming and conspiring, looking for the next big thing to impress the Arbiter Corps with. For all his efforts though, all he ever amounted to was 'merely' another promising candidate to become the Marshal for Sharkhead Isle - always in a few years down the pipeline and when the shoes were vacant and ready to be filled again, and always his accomplishments tended to get overshadowed or forgotten by his would-be superiors.

 

Not this time though.

 

Vargas watched with eminent satisfaction the reports on the latest polling in Paragon City, on a monitor in the dimly lit gloom of the Port Recluse fortress. He had pulled some strings with his contacts and gotten some of his erstwhile accomplices over on the mainland to actually participate in those same polls and to have their associates do so as well - and the results were remarkable. The pollsters were all remarking on the 'unusual' degree of turnout for simple forward, predictive polling - with a 3000% increase in census participation. A sharper and more unexpected swing in voter turnout than had been observed in the state of Rhode Island in over sixty years - and, would you know it, 72% of voters planned to vote against the ballot initiative.

 

All thanks to him - because it was his plan after all. He did the research, he hired the villains to do the dirty-work for him, he coordinated all the criminal groups in paragon City who he had caught up in his web of intrigue, and he had brought the whole thing to the Arbiters, wrapped up in spider silk and with a neat widow's bow on top. They had taken notice - apparently the entire operation had been greenlit and adopted by Arbiter Daos in person, a rumor Vargas was inclined to believe since he had been invited to have lunch with the man later in October (the leader of the Arbiter Corps was always terribly busy), and he had found himself with a new base of operations appointed to him and a pall of new operatives and soldiers under his command. His star was rising in Arachnos alright - for real this time.

 

Vargas was broken out of his self-congratulatory revelry by a priority alert chime from his personal console. He muted the PNN feed on his other monitor and looked to see what the message was - and immediately, his face paled and his gut dropped from out of him in shock.

 

PRIORITY ALERT: ARBITER DECREE

 

By the Will of Lord Recluse, all ongoing operations concerning the Rhode Island Ballot Initiative, Question 1, are to IMMEDIATELY HALT AND WITHDRAW. All Fortunata Augurs present in Paragon City are to be recalled to the Isles. All ongoing communication with assets in mainland groups of interest are to be terminated. Ongoing operations are to be wound up and restructured, beginning immediately. Failure to comply with this edict will result in immediate severance for Contempt of the Master's Will. Going forward from this moment on, it is now considered a STRATEGIC IMPERATIVE for all involved Operatives to ENSURE THAT QUESTION 1 PASSES. The Arbiter Corps will be monitoring the ongoing coordination and management of Project War-Web closely to enforce full compliance.

 

Additional information pertaining to this new Imperative is classified as Top Secret and need-to-know for the eyes of the Patrons and Arbiter Corps only.

 

Additional Decrees to follow. All Project War-Web Operatives are to report ASAP to their immediate handler for new directives.

 

Vargas literally could not believe it. He immediately checked the vitals on his armor's biometric feed to ensure he was not being subjected to an illusion or some form of psychic influence - but no. The metasignature embedded in the decree message was still coherent. If he had been suborned it would have activated and rendered the whole thing illegible. What he was seeing was the real deal. His entire operation had just been torpedoed by Lord Recluse himself with nary an explanation for it.

 

As the shock wore off, it gave way to simmering frustration - and then anger. Vargas snarled. Just when the breakout move of his entire career had been made - something that would have gone into the heavily revisionist history books of the Etoiles - the rug had been pulled out from under him, and now he was being told to fall in line and obey orders without even so much as an explanation? Like hell. 

 

He needed answers - and he was going to get them.

 

888888888888

 

The Shadow Shard

 

Brigadier General Kessel of the Nemesis Army furrowed his brow as he looked at his new orders again, just to be triple certain he was complying with them in full - written on artificially aged ceremonial parchment and inked with golden ink, delivered to him in an engraved, ceremonial brass roller - indicative of an order from Lord Nemesis himself.

 

One of him, at least. Kessel thought idly before banishing the treasonous thought from his mind. Lord Nemesis was not psychic insofar as anybody knew, but he had other ways of ferreting out even the insinuations of doubt. That line of thinking was dangerous even if he kept it to himself - so all the better to make a habit of not thinking such things.

 

BRIGADIER GENERAL KESSEL,

 

By the magnanimous decree of Lord Nemesis, all functional Automaton Doppelgangers are to be either activated, deployed, or else transported to predesignated staging areas in preparation for the dominion of our glorious master. Unlike prior deployments and operations, subtlety and discretion shall not be priorities beyond the bare minimum necessary to preserve the Automatons themselves. Soon, the defiant rebel forces of Eisenhauptstadt shall be made to feel the might of the Nemesis Army!

 

Certain automatons have been marked for immediate special operations and deployment, as listed below:

 

-All Phalanx Automatons not listed as destroyed, including Deprecated Models

-Regulator Automaton 1

-Vindicator Automaton 1

-Arachnos Automatons 3 through 5

 

"All doppelgangers in long term storage? My my. Well, let us quickly consult the inventory..." Kessel muttered as he input his personal code sequence for the mechanical typing board of the nuclear-powered difference engine that archived all the data on the various Nemesis Army automatons. With a rattling series of hissing steam jets and a cacophony of clicking and churning, the difference engine then stamped out the requested information in a rapid mechanical staccato.

 

Quote

Phalanx Automaton 1, 3: Functional, In Storage - WARNING - Deprecated

Phalanx Automaton 2, 5: Destroyed

Phalanx Automatons 4, 6, 7: Functional, In Storage

Phalanx Automaton 8: Functional, Deployed

Regulator Automatons 1-3: Functional, In Storage

 

Vindicator Automatons 1-7: Functional, In Storage

Vindicator Automatons 8, 9: Awaiting Assembly

 

Arachnos Automatons 1, 2: Awaiting Assembly

Arachnos Automatons 3-10: Functional, In Storage

 

Kessel skimmed over the rest of the list, comprising odd Automatons of various civilians and seemingly random Paragon City Heroes and Rogue Isles Villains, which was shorter than most outsiders would have thought - and only the big ticket Automatons at the top of the list were really worth anything. If Kessel had to guess, he imagined that by clearing out the full inventory of doppelgangers, even if they were all destroyed that would set the stage for new ones to be made later after all of Lord Nemesis' enemies were lulled into a false sense of security. And quite a few of them were bound to be destroyed, he had a hunch - probably in some glorious amassed assault and battle with the champions of Paragon City, though he supposed he could be mistaken. It was hardly for him to know the extent of his Master's designs, after all.

 

After triple-checking the list on the provided scroll, Kessel input the sweeping set of serial commands for the difference engine to process, and hit execute. The entire bastion groaned as steam and pressure pumps began to seethe and sigh across the complex - and below him in the storage hall, individual lights turned on one by one, illuminating the all-too-familiar silhouettes of the automatons waiting below.

[Terminal]

A PARAGON NEWS NETWORK STORY!

 

...and in absolutely unbelievable news, a section of the war walls located between Independence Port and New Venice suffered light damage earlier yesterday due to a series of explosions that occurred somewhere within their interior, marking the first instance since the 2004 explosion in Fossburg where the war walls have taken notable damage. State and federal officials have been investigating the cause of the explosion, and today we are receiving a call in live from Andrew Straus, a member of the FSBA who is ready to present an official statement to the public. Mr. Straus, I believe the FBSA has identified the cause of the explosion?

 

...Yes, glad to be able to call in to the show Terrence. A determination has been made by both state and local officials that the explosion was not an act of sabotage, deliberate or otherwise. As many of your listeners probably know, New Venice - otherwise colloquially known as Crey's Folly - to this day still harbors toxic concentrations of hazardous, volatile materials in the atmosphere. From what we have been able to discover, there was a pocket of these gaseous materials that built up in a subterranean gap right below the surface, near the foundations of the walls bordering both New Venice and Independence Port. This gas pocket, which was under immense pressure, was ignited and violently detonated, and the exotic particulates from that gas interacted in an unprecedented fashion with the war wall's power grid, causing a cascading series of smaller detonations until all of the gas was burnt. Local municipal and emergency services were able to very quickly patch the breach in the walls with some help from Crey Industries, and I am pleased to report that no traces of the exotic compounds contained in New Venice leaked out into Independence Port.

 

Would you say there is any risk of reoccurrence for this Mr. Straus, given the abundance of this exotic substance in Crey's Folly?

 

Well while there is always a risk for most thing, Terrence, now that we know this compound might have volatile reactions if exposed to the war walls' power grid infrastructure, municipal services have been briefed on how to prevent a reoccurrence through the use of certain interior climate control mechanisms. I do not foresee a repeat of this incident occurring anytime soon.

 

There has been a lot of talk about how outdated and antiquated the city infrastructure is as of late though, Mr. Straus, mostly arising from discussion related to the upcoming Ballot Initiative and Question 1 specifically. Is the war wall infrastructure and climate control really rated to handle possible exposure to something as volatile as the gasses in Crey's Folly?

 

Well Terrence, although I am not a civic engineer and cannot really speak for the city in that capacity, both me and my team have been told the technology inside the war walls is very robust and works using very well-established fundamental principles that have not changed since the walls were erected. Just do not make them like they used to - the city at least is confident that the war walls, old as they are by now, are rated to handle far more exotic and volatile substances if necessary.

 

Thank you for your comments Mr. Straus - next up in the news: A development in the trial of Ms. Liberty by Interpol! A reliable confidential source close to the investigation has informed PNN that the investigators on both sides of the case have identified a defect with the original warrant that was placed for Ms. Liberty's arrest - and that, barring any surprise revelations, it is highly likely the case against her will be dismissed within the next few days! Just in time for her to make it back home in time for the fundraiser convention being hosted by Science Lord Rixis of the Cimmerian Path in support of Question 1. The reformed Nictus supervillain has invited a large number of prominent figures in the city - including Ms. Liberty, Positron, and of course Lawrence Harken, a Spokesperson from the Citizens for Mediporters civic group. With the number of high-profile individuals slated to attend the event over such a prominent civic issue, several issues pertaining to the event's security have been raised - to which representatives of the Cimmerian Path have assured PNN that every precaution is being taken to ensure the fundraiser proceeds without a hitch...

[Terminal]

A PARAGON NEWS NETWORK STORY!

 

Good evening. This is the ten-o-clock news, and I am Anthony Woods. In an utterly bewildering turn of events that have garnered the attention of the entire nation, a fundraiser and political awareness gala held in Steel Canyon earlier this evening and hosted by none other than Science Lord Rixis and the Cimmerian path was disrupted by a surprise appearance by several members of the Rhode Island statehouse, shortly before a massive, full-scale assault on the building by the Sky Raiders.

 

Exact details are undergoing examination and analysis by most of the country's networks. The surprise appearance of Senator Bariston and his revelations were broadcast live, and in the cases of several attending news organizations, broadcast nationwide. 

 

Discussion and analysis of the events at the gala will likely be the focus of this network and others for several weeks to come. What is most important for us to announce now is that Senator Bariston has formally declared a state of emergency concerning the security of the Rhode Isle statehouse and its members, directly implicating the entire sitting body of senators and representatives as compromised by organized crime. An emergency session of the statehouse is being held now even as this report airs, where it is anticipated a plurality of representatives and senators alike will be removed from office - requiring immediate, emergency short-elections to nominate replacements for all of them.

 

It is therefore especially crucial, to a degree that cannot be overstated, that all of tonight's viewers be directly informed and encouraged to participate in these short elections in order to ensure the security and effectiveness of state governance. Following this segment, instructions and advice for casting your votes in this emergency election will be issued and explained step by step, by multiple means including in-person voting, voting by mail, and voting over telephone. Due to the extreme urgency and necessity of this emergency election, it will take place over a very short period of time, and the public at large will not have a great deal of time to make their voice heard or to fully consider their options.

 

It is imperative that we reiterate that this extreme course of action is necessary due to evidence of serious criminal liability and complicity on the parts of a large number of statehouse members, such as would be grounds for impeachment under normal circumstances. To not take immediate action would create an unacceptable degree of risk to the livelihoods, health, and safety for the entire population of the State of Rhode Island. There are already calls for formal inquiries by the United States Congress, and the national guard alongside the F.B.I. and F.B.S.A. has all been called in to fully investigate the matter. The temporary removal of the state's representatives and senators is a marked blow to the ability of citizens to be civically engaged with the rule of law, and so to ensure that the voice of the people and their final say in their representation is not abridged, the Paragon News Network and every other network has a civic responsibility to ensure the people of Rhode Island are kept well-informed on this issue and are informed exactly how they can ensure their voice is heard in spite of these abrupt and unprecedented developments...

 

 

[Terminal]

THE STEPS OF THE RHODE ISLAND STATEHOUSE

 

Senator Bariston adjusted his tie briefly as he walked down the steps of the statehouse, a vast field of flashing and snapping cameras and live newsfeeds run from news-agency trucks with satellite uplinks surrounding the base, held at bay only by a cordon of police and some paltry guardrails. The clamoring of the crowd was tumultuous - Bariston swore that the raw volume of their cries and demands were causing the earth to rumble beneath his feet.

 

He reached the prepared podium near the bottom of the staircase, adjusted the microphone briefly, and began to speak. All at once, the crowd of reporters and journalists fell silent, although all the nerves their shouting had conjured within Bariston still made him feel unsteady on his feet - if anything the roiling ground beneath him only seemed to intensify. Still, it was nothing he could not work his way past, with his long career of public speaking.

 

"Good afternoon. I am pleased to announce that the results of the short elections are in, and are momentarily about to be certified." He began. "Nearly all of the candidates for the short election are present today, so once the results of the short elections are certified, they can immediately begin their work. One of their first acts will be to recall the Question 1 Ballot Initiative, pending ongoing investigation by state and federal authorities into the organized criminal conspiracy surrounding it. Following that, there will be an immediate motion to organize off-season full elections to ensure that the voice and will of the people is...properly...represented..." 

 

Bariston trailed off as he glanced around the crowd, many of whom had started to lower their cameras and look around quizzically. Something was wrong - and now that he found himself wondering about it, he realized what it was.

 

He had not been imagining it: The earth was actually rumbling and quaking under his feet, the intensity of the tremors growing by the second. Was it an Earthquake? A Devouring Earth attack? Freakshow using more of their sonic bombs nearby-

 

His alarmed speculation was shattered as, with a titanic roar, the steps leading up to the statehouse behind him ruptured in multiple places,  three Nemesis Mole Machines breaching through cement and rebar effortlessly like immense brass whales erupting from the depths of the sea. Their hatches open, and the hallmark, explosive sound of mechanical storm and lance rifle fire started to saturate the air alongside the sound of whirling gears and retorts. Bariston found himself diving for cover as his ears popped, his senses overwhelmed with overwhelming tinnitus as he covered his head and crouched down. He would be fine - he had trained for this. He was a noncombatant, he just had to let the police and any nearby heroes take care of it...

 

The acrid scent of some chemical agent filled his nostils, and Bariston found himself gasping suddenly - choking for breath as some foul toxin began to wind its way into his respiratory system - but almost as soon as his aspiring crisis began, it ended. Gruff hands seized him underneath the shoulders, hauled him to his feet, and he abruptly found a brass gas-mask being brusquely strapped onto his face. He felt a pinprick along his right arm, and after a single passing moment the burning sensation in his lungs abated. He blinked several times, his wavering vision and ringing ears finally starting to resolve back to coherency, and he realized what it was he was looking at in the same moment as two Nemesis Army soldiers forced him onto his knees before the towering clockwork terror that was the visage of Lord Nemesis.

 

Glancing around, Bariston could see that the police securing the function were all injured on the ground. Nemesis Army soldiers continued to pour from their mole machine transports even as more of them erupted from the surface of the roadsides surrounding the statehouse, opening fire on nearby law enforcement officials. To describe it as merely a bloodbath would have been far too charitable. The Nemesis Army soldiers were using large-bore explosive rounds, flamethrowers, nerve-toxin gas, and fixed bayonets. The district police were armed merely with more conventional, modern assault weapons - which, for all their ergonomic design and efficiency, lacked any sort of edge when up against the brutally overdesigned weapons of war Nemesis had designed and perfected in the trenches of World War One and Two. It was nothing short of a massacre. The press corps had all been enclosed and forced onto their knees, save for a number of camera crews which had been commandeered by Nemesis Army Colonels, barking sharp orders to their captives to keep the feeds rolling and live.

 

"Citizens of Paragon City!" Nemesis boomed as he cast an imperious hand forth, his grinding clockwork scepter held regally in the other. "Your corrupt and inept officials have failed you for the last time! Even now as I speak, my glorious armed forces storm the statehouse floor, halting the certification process of your pathetic and unwashed efforts at so-called governance! My forces likewise assail the state governor's office, the Terra Volta Reactor in Paragon City, and have caught your precocious national guard by surprise! All the mechanisms of your so-called democracy have been sundered, and so now none other than I - Lord Nemesis - shall seize control over the state of Rhode Island and bring TRUE stability and order to you unenlightened masses!"

 

Nemesis - if it was indeed truly him and not simply another fake (although Bariston did idly note that this Nemesis seemed to be taller than its doppelgangers, with more intricate filigree and engravings and what looked to be silver tracery highlighting its frame) - swept their staff down, pointing its crackling gearhead at Bariston.

 

"When I was first crowned Emperor of the Americas, I forced the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court to coronate me - but for the moment, Senator Bariston here will suffice for the purposes of crowning me King of the territory of Rhode Island - and once crowned, my first proclamation shall be to RENAME the capital city of Paragon to Eisenhaupstadt! From my seat there, I shall extend my rule first across all of America - and then the WORLD!"

 

'Oh good grief, not again.' Was the thought that flashed through Bariston's mind then, already certain that this incident was going to go down in the history books as 'Brass Wednesday.' The situation was absurd. If not for all the dead bodies and nerve toxin gas spreading through the city, it would seem like some sort of comical, staged farce.

 

"While your crass vigilantes were distracted with the inferior and droll conspiracies of smaller and less proficient minds, such as Arachnos and Malta and Crey Industries, I, Lord Nemesis, have been preparing for this day!" Nemesis' voice continued to boom. "All that has transpired has done so according to my grand design, and now at the crux of my masterstroke, the entire state has been left in disorganized and tattered disarray by my supreme machinations - against which all were helpless to perceive and-"

 

Bariston sighed and started to tune it out. Once you had heard one Nemesis speech you had heard them all. He was going to strain the bounds of incredulity claiming credit for everything everybody had ever done, before announcing some outlandish and nonsensically extreme objective out of left field that no sane person could have anticipated. A thought occurred to him though. He was still in-frame of all of the cameras, and nobody else was speaking except for Nemesis - aside from the cracks of distant storm and lance rifle fire, they occupied the calm and silent eye of the storm.

 

So he took the opportunity and derailed Nemesis' speech. Mustering every ounce of strength in his strained lungs, Bariston shouted out.

 

"That is where you are WRONG, Nemesis!" He shouted. The massive Nemesis construct paused and stared down at him balefully, but he did not stop. "This is just another ill-conceived temper tantrum at having been forced out of the script of this conspiracy, just another irrelevant, two-bit actor trying to take advantage of it. Secret Task Force Revanche has dealt with far worse than you - and they, alongside the rest of the heroes of the state, are going to thwart you and bring you to justice!"

 

Nemesis simply laughed then, a tall and airy laugh that - in spite of the likelihood that there were no organic components whatsoever inside his massive armored frame - had a spine-tingling authenticity to it.

 

"Oh, poor senator! Much like everything else, I have accounted for that possibility! I have come prepared - the turn of this era from your paltry rule to my glorious reign shall be heralded by the efforts of the very vaunted and time-honored heroes your small and insignificant nation hold in such high esteem! Behold!"

 

He cast his hand on high once more. With some prodding from the various Nemesis Soldiery, the camera crews began to raise their camera's field of view upwards - towards the entrance of the statehouse itself, where three terrifyingly familiar figures emerged from within.

 

The forms of none other than Blue Steel - his police baton and shield now caked with blood - Sister Psyche, drifting along, his expression enigmatic - and the awesome presence of Statesman, his billowing distinctive mantle flowing in the breeze - began to descend the statehouse steps.

 

"The visages of your greatest champions, their forms and power fully captured and recreated with the elegance of my genius and artifice! Loyal Automatons of the Nemesis Army!" At those words, every nearby Nemesis soldier and the three Automatons all threw out high-handed salutes. "You shall destroy all who dare oppose me - and we shall make examples of all the pitiful rebels who dare to stand against the justice of my glorious rule! Find all the members of this so-called 'Secret Task Force' Revanche - and execute them for all the world to see! I shall recreate Automatons in their image, and they shall serve my rule over this world for all eternity!"

 

Nemesis laughed again then - shortly before all the news feeds were cut, segueing to emergency images indicating the interruption of ongoing broadcasts due to 'technical difficulties.'

[Terminal]

THE STEPS OF THE RHODE ISLAND STATEHOUSE

 

With Secret Task Force Revanche having successfully repulsed the Nemesis incursion at the Terra Volta Reactor and rescued the hostages held within the statehouse interior, the tactical situation began to take a sharp downturn for the Prussian Prince of Automatons and his forces. The army, without any remaining threat to civilian lives, closed in with overwhelming numbers. Nemesis' soldiers, for all their vaunted clockwork artifice, were no longer fighting mere law enforcement - and against more coordinated and specialized weaponry and tactics, found their control of the district slipping. When local and army heroes joined the fray, their control faltered, fragmented, and was ultimately shattered - forcing the Nemesis Army into a routed retreat back towards the steps of the statehouse proper. Mole Machines that had ruptured the earth in dozens of locations were reduced to brass slag by anti-tank rounds, and those few that were not destroyed were seized. It looked, at last, as though Nemesis' attempted invasion was over.

 

It was not to be.

 

As the Nemesis Army made what - by all appearances - was a final stand hemmed in at the Statehouse itself, surrounded at all sides and dropping like flies - Lord Nemesis himself emerged from within the Statehouse and descended the stairs, small-arms fire cracking harmlessly off his armor as he approach the front lines. With a whining hum, a large dispersion bubble of force extended from the confines of his armor - establishing a bubble of influence that caused additional weapons fire and various projectiles to wobble off-course or fall short unexpectedly. He spoke, and his voice boomed from a number of loudspeakers that had been positioned around the statehouse grounds.

 

"Armed forces of the United States! I salute your courageous efforts to defend your homes and land!" Complimentary words robbed of any authenticity by his mocking tone and the exaggerated, sweeping bow the massive construct performed (for most of nobody in particular beyond those soldiers and heroes actively shooting at him). 

 

"Your efforts and lives have been spent in vain however!" He crowed. "For while your imbecilic heroes wasted their time and effort securing the Terra Volta Reactor and rescuing a handful of worthless hostages, my TRUE stratagem took place! A loyal Automaton of the Nemesis Army, bearing the visage of your precious and honored Sister Psyche - assisted by numerous automaton infiltrators sown amongst you, undetected for years in spite of your best efforts - have SEIZED full control of Portal Corporation with none of you being any the wiser for it!"

 

The lines of Nemesis soldiers holding out immediately before their master broke as a team of heroes crashed upon them - exotic energy emanations, glimmering magical runes, and gleaming armored-mechanisms making short work of Nemesis' vanguard. Yet the Prussian Prince of Automatons did not stop with his speech, continuing to ramble on obliviously - for his security was shortly assured when the automaton of none other than Statesman himself crashed down from the sky, landing with a tremendous impact amongst the team of heroes. For a brief moment, it was as if Statesman himself had factually returned from death - his stalwart gaze cresting the battlefield with unwavering resolve atop his stern expression, his distinctive red mantle billowing about his shoulders as radiating waves of force buffeted the atmosphere around him.

 

But this was not Statesman - this was an abomination of science, unfeeling and utterly without mercy, remorse, or hesitation. It attacked the team of heroes with brutally ergonomic but devastatingly powerful, crushing blows. There was no fight - with every motion and gesture the automaton made, a hero crumbled to the ground before winking out of sight in a flash of light as their MediCom patches activated. The automaton's blows were so swift that only one of the heroes managed to evade the first strike - but even as they landed from their spring-footed maneuver, the automaton simply swept their hand out in a slashing motion, and a massive torrent of lightning slammed down from the skies and reduced the unfortunate crime-fighter into nothing more than a blackened lump of steaming carbon.

 

"Even now as I speak, Portal Corps. dimensional locks are untethered, its machines linked to my own in other worlds to facilitate my TRUE master plan!"  He gestured imperiously with one hand, and the air began to shake and crackle as some unseen ripple of power radiated through it.

 

"Even now, the armed forces of the many worlds under my sway stand ready to emerge and to embattle the whole of Primal Earth! You have all LOST! While you were distracted dealing with the worthless side-objectives I deigned to create in order to waylay you, I was preparing my TRUE masterstroke! The invasion of ALL OF PRIMAL EARTH!"

 

Nemesis chortled again then, and in that moment, no less than four massive, radiant ruptures in spacetime sundered the atmosphere around the statehouse - looking to be no less than the massive transdimensional gateways operated by Portal Corp. No troops emerged - instead, several volleys of artillery shells cascaded out from each of the portals, spreading explosive ruination and dense concentrations of toxic gas across the surrounding streets, shattering unit formations and forcing the army and remaining heroes to pull hastily retreat as they were buffeted with enough firepower to collapse the surrounding buildings.

 

Four more volleys of artillery followed, smoke, flame, toxic fumes and screams proliferating the district until the only standing structure left within two hundred meters once they were finished was the statehouse itself. It was only then, in the wake of that explosive tumult, that more soldiery of the Nemesis Army then began to emerge from each of the dimensional gateways - led by standard-banners holding aloft yellow and orange flags emblazoned with the Brass Lion of the Nemesis Legions. Rank upon rank of Nemesis soldiers assembled into formations as skittering waves of Jaeger automatons rushed ahead of them to clear away debris - and bodies.

 

"You may now applaud my genius...before I accept your unconditional surrender!" Nemesis howled triumphantly.

 

'A most curious notion, Nemesis.'

 

The voice that was not a voice drifted across the air, drifting across the awareness of Nemesis, his soldiers, and every other mind in the area. 'Celebrating your victory so soon? If the heroes of this world are guilty of perhaps overlooking your pitifully wanton ego, you too are guilty of forgetting the very being and power you first desired to claim for yourself.'

 

A figure then faded out of transparency mid-stride before Nemesis. They were of normal stature relative to the immensity that was the Prussian Prince of Automatons and their masterwork battle-armor, but they carried with them an imperious and commanding aura of their own. Hundreds of shoulders swiveled to turn their rifles on the emergent figure, but did not fire - not yet.

 

 

"Who dares to approach Lord Nemesis?!?" Nemesis barked, jabbed a finger down at the armored figure.

 

'You know me, Nemesis. I was born three times...' The figure gestured then, and the hundreds of Nemesis soldiers lowered their arms - much to the dismay of Nemesis himself.

 

"What are you curs doing? Kill this uppity charlatan!" Nemesis roared - but none of the soldiers moved.

 

'...And with each birth, my greater purpose was renewed. I was created, made, to rule. To conquer, to seize, to assert my sovereign and irrefutable will on all who stood beneath me.' 

 

"...Impossible...!" Nemesis spluttered.

 

'I am the one you sought, and the one who seeks. I am heir apparent and claimant, toppler of thrones and champion of regicide. Behold your unmaking, Nemesis...'

 

For I Am

USURPER!

The figure reached out with a grasped fist towards Nemesis, and the massive construct began to writhe and shudder in place, electricity and steam pouring from its frame as the ranks of Nemesis Soldiers gazed on helplessly.

 

'...and I have come to claim my thrice-birthright! Your mind I shall crush, your crown I shall seize! Your vast empire and lands are forfeit, I claim them in my own name and glory! Your slaves and serfs I shall free, your monuments and temples I shall tear down, your sentinels and soldiers I will command as my own! I shall! TAKE! EVERYTHING FROM YOU!' The telepathic message attained a roaring and irresistible pressure, and as it rose in volume, rank after rank of the surrounding Nemesis Army soldiers fell to their knees and clasped their hands to their chests in salute.

 

Nemesis managed to gesture weakly as their armored frame fell to their knees, and in that moment the Statesman Automaton rapidly flew between its master and the new interloper as hundreds of scuttling Jaegers converged - but it was too late.

 

'You are WEAK, Nemesis. Weak of body and mind. You have wholly replaced yourself with rote artifice, and attempt to manage your rule by aggregating your mind in a massive cult of personality distributed across countless golems fashioned in your image. There is no true strength in this - whereas I, with the power to Bifurcate myself and my own awareness without limit, am your better, and more qualified by far to rule! Despair in these final moments - your mind is MINE! Now-'

 

Usurper hunched forward, both arms outstretched towards Nemesis, now cowering behind the Statesman automaton in abject and helpless terror.

 

'Give everything - to me!!!'

 

Nemesis screamed then - a hideous, electronic and warbling scream that stood in stark contrast to the previously wholly natural intonation of their voice - only for the choking emanation to be abruptly cut off as though somebody had taken a garrote to them. The Nemesis construct shuddered, shifted, and then slowly stood under its own power once more - a new light gleaming in its eyes.

 

"...Loyal Automatons of the Nemesis Army...!" Nemesis barked then. "About face! We return to our holds, to restore true rule and order to MY worlds-"

 

He was interrupted then as, abruptly, a fifth portal rupture tore itself into existence atop the statehouse steps behind him - both Usurper and Nemesis twisting in synchrony and in surprise. The portal expanded in volume drastically, before shuddering to a halt - and then the massive hand of a gargantuan construct grasped at the wavering boundary, and pulled itself forward. A massive Nemesis warmachine, easily more than fifteen meters tall, leapt from the depths of the portal and slammed down at the base of the statehouse steps, sending dozens of soldiers - as well as both the garroted Nemesis and Usurper - stumbling back from the force of its impact.

 

"Bold! Far too bold!" Nemesis' voice boomed from the immense construct even as additional groups of soldiers began to pour out from the portal behind it. "For all that your little stunt here has proved alarmingly effective...the distribution of my genius intellect affords me great insulation to attempts at subverting MY loyal forces! You may have my vanguards at your beck and call - but once I crush your pathetic body of meat and bone, my rule will be restored! And your control is not so complete as you might think! Loyal Automatons of the Nemesis Army! ATTACK!!!"

 

The Statesman Automaton, and the hundreds of Jaegers that had surrounding Usurper and the smaller Nemesis frame, charged. The kneeling soldiers all rose and turned, racing to give battle with their own comrades and brethren in arms as they emerged from the fifth portal, as the Usurper-dominated Nemesis frame raised its clockwork scepter high and clashed with the monstrous immensity of Nemesis' war machine.

The real battle had finally begun.

[Terminal]

An Undisclosed Location...

 

In the dark recesses of a certain safehouse, Countess Crey nursed a glass of gin as she sourly watched the news, projected on a floor-to-ceiling wallscreen with higher-quality image resolution than most deep space telescopes. Crey Industries' various ties and partial ownership of several prominent news agencies around the country was doing very little to stem the tide of catastrophic nationwide revelations and outrage. There had been very little to do since the news broke but to hunker down and outlast the multiple Federal agencies out to arrest her at this juncture - and to watch everything come unraveled.

 

"...since the events of what is now being dubbed 'Brass Wednesday,' the Rhode Island Statehouse has since certified the results of the emergency short elections and the now-infamous Question 1 Ballot Initiative has been recalled. Most of the temporary, acting members of State Congress have indicated there are no plans to revise or revisit the Initiative due to the unusual circumstances surrounding both the initiative itself, as well as the current state of their acting body. The temporary Speaker of the House had this to say: 'We're just here to keep the lights on.'"

 

The least of her worries. The cost entailed in purchasing State Congresspeople was a relative pittance; whoever wound up eventually replacing the old bunch would be in her pocket sooner rather than later. The biggest detriment there was that the temporary representatives in State Congress were, in a fit cautionary prudence, refusing to enact any strictly unnecessary legislation - stalling any efforts by her lobbyists to start reshaping state law in order to soften the losses.

 

"The ongoing follow-up investigation surrounding the circumstances that were unveiled by Secret Task Force Revanche continues to grow and escalate. In addition to the FBSA and SAM, the FBI, NSA, and DHS have all expressed an interest in the details of the conspiracy. The implications of such an insidious plot have not been missed by anybody, and the Department of Justice - acting on executive mandate - have begun to schedule and organize congressional inquiries. The CEO of Crey Industries, Paget Wertz, reportedly jumped from the top floor of Crey Industries' corporate facility in Kallisti Wharf upon learning of the several dozen warrants out for his arrest. No warrants have yet been issued for Countess Crey despite her being named a 'person of interest' by multiple investigative bodies; the promise of several Federal and Congressional subpoenas to be issued against her will likely set the date for one of the most incisive and widely televised hearings in the history of the country. Although Countess Crey herself is not formally listed or part of the hierarchy of Crey Industries or any of its affiliates, it remains commonly - and judicially accepted - knowledge that she is the de facto head of the corporate empire..."

 

An unsurprising development. Considering how many DC Congresspeople she owned, it was unlikely she was ever going to see jailtime for this - but several years worth of investigation committee hearings where she would be highlighted as the criminal mastermind of the century? Contrary to the common saying, there was actually such a thing as bad publicity. Especially for her, when the entire point of insulating herself from the hierarchy of her holdings was explicitly so she never had to deal with investigations, hearings, or criminal implication. She was never going to live down the fallout from this.

 

"...Although there has been significant discussion on this network and others concerning the possible intervention of Vanguard due to various hypotheses concerning the identities of the chief conspirators implicated in the 'Penitentiary City' transcript, Vanguard Herald has released an official statement indicating that on review, the conspiracy appears to predominantly be one of Human make, interests, and execution - and that Vanguard will not be involving itself in mundane political intrigue. They have however expressed considerable interest in investing in deterrence of future invasion attempts of Primal Earth as almost transpired when Nemesis seized control of Portal Corporation..."

 

Also an expected outcome. Rixis had played her and the Twilight Man like puppets, spinning them a yarn about all their grand ambitions and designs coming to pass, getting them to do his dirty-work while he stepped back and conveniently insulated himself from any kind of culpability. Even the otherwise damning labeling from the transcript she had written had barely mattered. Consequences seemed to rebound off Rixis like ball bearings on ice. There had been some possibility of him having to face the music if Vanguard had actually decided to press him, but from what her own moles were saying Rixis had prior dealings with them and was already considered a diplomatically-relevant person of interest they had to dance on eggshells around, and the showing of him and his Cimmerian Path at the Political Gala had bought him some goodwill thanks to Duray trying to play-act relevance. She could not even risk implicating the Nictus without further implicating herself in the process - and there was always the off-chance she would have to grit her teeth and work with him again in the future. The self-proclaimed Science Lord's claims to the contrary, his days of supervillainy were far from over, and they shared too many areas of mutual interest in both Paragon and the Etoiles to make going to war with him profitable.

 

"...the Devouring Earth continue to make investigation into the secret Crey Biotech facility in Woodvale difficult. The spirit of the Woodsmen as well as Zenflower have both volunteered their efforts to help safeguard the law enforcement cordon around the area while investigators look for answers in what has been described as 'a lab to make Mengele seem G-Rated.' It is here that the presence of the shadow-paramilitary force now known as 'Echelon Six' appeared to be conspiring directly with Crey Biotech, as well as with Countess Crey's personal assistant and bodyguard, Hopkins..."

 

Hopkins had been arrested by Secret Task Force Revanche, caught dead-to-rights at the Crey Biotech facility in Eden, openly cavorting with Echelon Six. Perhaps even worse than being arrested, the presiding Judge had been slammed with such an immense volume of evidence implicating murder, conspiracy, and depraved high crimes of science against Humanity that he had declined to issue bail. It was going to take months, perhaps ever years for her lawyers to spring him from Zigursky.

 

"...Ongoing investigation into the full nature and affiliation of the so-called 'Echelon Six' paramilitary group continues to run into unexpected roadblocks, with multiple investigating bodies declining to comment..."

 

According to her contacts within Arachnos, her second co-conspirator had literally had his soul severed from his body and stuck in some fiendishly overdesigned and over-embellished Spider-themed doohickey. Beyond that there was not much to be discerned - the Arbiter Corps had swooped in to secure it as a strategic asset. They evidently had not managed to get ahold of his body, but all that meant was Echelon Six was now headed by an empty body in a vegetative coma.

 

"...With all the different agencies jockeying over the details of the investigation, how it will all get parceled out remains unclear at the time of our reporting. Several involved agency spokespeople have indicated that it is likely that smaller elements of criminal liability and culpability will be directly addressed, while the more serious ramifications and considerations of the conspiracy will be handled appropriately in due course..."

 

An oblique referral to the notionally secret Special Grand Jury had been impaneled to directly investigate Crey Industries and none other than her own person and whether she had any involvement in the overarching plot to seize an illegal monopoly over all metahuman healthcare in the state of Rhode Island and to turn all of Paragon City into an immense open-air prison and superweapon. The risk they would actually elect to indict her was close to zero, but depending on what decision they reached, they could gridlock all of Crey Industries, freeze and seize various corporate assets in the name of investigation, and more.

 

...and worst of all: Crey Industries' overall reported profits, due to all the scandal, were not quite going to quadruple again this year. It was an embarrassment of unprecedented scale.

 

Countess Crey shut off the viewscreen with nothing more than an errant wave, telekinetically manipulating the controls. The screen snapped off to a blank, featureless plane - imperfectly reflecting the contents of the safehouse room.

 

For the very first time in over a decade, Countess Crey then experienced an abrupt an alien sensation as she stared in dismay at the reflection in the viewscreen: Fear.

 

Somebody was in the room with her.

 

Her eyes narrowed as she focused on the figure in the reflection, fear quickly dissipating as her special training and ruthless instincts began to cut in. She was a predator in her own den. She had nothing to fear. Without even turning her head to look to the figure standing by the door, she spoke.

 

"You are supposed to be comatose right now." She directed to the reflection of The Twilight Man - Director 06 - staring at her in turn. "Arachnos took your soul."

 

"That they did, but missing a soul does not always mean the end." The Twilight Man answered. Though she had only met and spoken with him once before, she noticed a certain rigid passivity to his voice - the cadence of measured apathy. "Ask Johnny Sonata about it sometime, whenever you are able to make one of his concerts."

 

Countess Crey frowned as she focused on other details of The Twilight Man's posture. He was hunched over slightly, and she could make out the tell-tale gleam of what looked like recently installed cybernetics around the back of his neck - and glancing down, he also appeared to be supporting his weight using a forearm cane. He had either taken a long tumble down a set of stairs, underneath a bus, or had a rough fight that had left lasting injuries. Was that the same fight Arachnos had taken his soul in?

 

She dismissed the idle thought. It was not relevant. "Assuming I will still be walking hale and free to attend one. Why are you here? Shouldn't you be running your own damage control right now?" She asked.

 

The Twilight Man tilted his head idly. "...Damage control? Why? We're going to win. Once we control the city, we won't have to hide our crimes from anybody ever again."

 

That got her attention. She finally turned her head to glare back and make sure she was not just imagining things. Surely enough, Director 06 was there in the flesh, somehow having located and infiltrated her safehouse without setting off any of the alarms or alerting her small private army of bodyguards. Reaching out with her mind's eye, his presence was occluded somehow - but she could feel his heartbeat. He was real.

 

"Rixis' plan is in shambles. We've lost the Statehouse and the feds are alerted to my interest in a legal monopoly." She stated.

 

"Relying on that parasite at all in the first place was our downfall. Rixis is a schemer. He uses people. That is his strength, but also his weakness." The Twilight Man answered as he finally moved away from the door, heading towards the bar at the side of the room where the bottle of gin she had opened earlier was still sitting. She saw now, as his back turned to her, that there was now a large, cybernetic spinal attachment affixed to his back, terminating in a bulbous mechanism right at the atlas of his neck. From her own insight into cybernetics, the device looked like it had been recently installed - within the last few weeks or so. He fetched himself a spare glass as he carried on - his voice had an even, dispassionate sense of calm to it. None of the sharp, barely contained vitriol or perverse enthusiasm that had defined it during the meeting previously was present. A side-effect of the new cybernetics, immunoblockers and other medication? Or was this due to his new state as a soulless body?

 

"He counted on us looking at his neat little plan's surface-level elegance and thinking it was exactly what we needed. But the truth is we never needed that alien, or his plan. We are predators and rulers. We do not need to scheme and exploit others to get - to take - what we want. When Rixis originally met with us, we should have done then what we're going to do now: Throw his overwrought plan to the wind and take what is ours."

 

"Take what is ours? Are you listening to yourself? We cannot take anything, now." Countess Crey asked bitterly. "The heroes and Arachnos kicked your little army out of the War Walls, and without financial leverage over the insurance market, I can't establish the monopoly."

 

"You're still dancing to his tune. Rixis is so accustomed to planning his way around problems the idea of confronting them directly is unthinkable to him. We don't need insurance premiums or votes or legislation of any kind to make the city ours. That was the one thing Rixis was still able to do for us. He saw the levers and fulcrums of powers we need to put our thumbs on, then he fed us bullshit to get us to do it for him. We still can - but now, free of any sort of fetters, I can see clearly. We will seize the city, and we'll do it for us, without him." He set the fetched glass down on the bartop and began to slowly pour out a measure of gin for himself as he spoke.

 

"The only thing that matters is the teleportation network. The one in the walls, which we still have all the keys to even if Arachnos has spun a web inside the locks - and the one operated by Medi-Corp." He finished pouring his glass, grasped it, and turned back to face Countess Crey.

 

"We will achieve in the span of a few hours what Rixis contrived to accomplish in an entire election season. I will soon lead an amassed assault with Echelon Six upon Arachnos' position in the War Walls, crush them to bits, take the Incarnate Artifact they have been using, and once more seize full control over the Project Caerdroia infrastructure."

 

Countess Crey huffed with exasperation. "An empty premise. An amassed assault on Arachnos' position? I have an idea of their setup. Even before the heroes pushed you out of the Walls, you could not have done such a thing. Now, with half of Echelon Six in tatters, without any of your staging areas in the nearby sectors intact? It'a suicide."

 

"It would be if we tried to dislodge Arachnos from the sector internally. But we will not be directing our assault from within the walls." 

 

Countess Crey stared with astonishment for a moment before raising an eyebrow. "...You are going to attack them...from outside? Through the war wall edifice itself? What about the city, the heroes? Task Force Revanche, for that matter?"

 

"Now is the perfect time to strike. The national guard is in disarray and has suffered unprecedented casualties, and my ties within the army and air force will put their forces out of position at the time of the assault. I will be investing all of Echelon Six's assets into this operation. No rote, run-of-the-mill heroes will be able to stop us. As for Task Force Revanche..."

 

The Twilight Man swirled the gin in his glass in-hand for several moments in silence before answering. "I almost hope they do intervene. I can hang their broken bodies from atop the breach in the walls, so they can watch their world die."

 

"Even assuming you succeeded, that would just bring us back to square one. Without control of the MediCom-" Countess Crey halted mid-proclamation as she saw then, clearly, what Director 06 intended.

 

"I see you've caught the gist of things."

 

"A hostile takeover of Medi-Corp...In broad-daylight, amidst the ongoing efforts of more than a different investigations plus state and federal agencies?"

 

"Why not? Your insulation from your own corporate hierarchy means you can still walk the streets as a free citizen. Head there personally and make Lucas Zanella an offer he cannot refuse using your...distinctive charm. Take all of Medi-Corps keys to the kingdom, and between the both of us, we will have complete control over the citywide medical and emergency teleportation grid. The lives of every metahuman in the city will be in your hand, and you can then dictate terms to any and every insurance and healthcare group. Any who do not fall in line can be leaned on politically with our contacts, and any who do not bend the knee can disappear under mysterious circumstances."

 

"There is no way the government or congress will let me get away with seizing a monopoly so openly, not with all of the-"

 

"Why not? You are a private citizen after all. If Lucas Zanella just happens to give you control over Medi-Corp, free of any kind of coercion - and if he is not alive to gainsay you afterwards - there are no laws or regulations concerning Monopolies being broken. Once we start chipping the husbands, wives, and children of congresspeople with MediCom beacons as well, I suspect all protest will evaporate."

 

Countess Crey narrowed her eyes again. "You are not thinking rationally." She finally uttered. "Clearly, missing your soul has done no favors for your capacity for tactical decision-making. This is an impulsive, reckless appeal to brute force. Are you forgetting where we are? This is Paragon City. When has that EVER, ONCE worked? The reason we agreed with Rixis' plan was because we knew it would work, WITHOUT having to deal with opposition from heroes."

 

The Twilight Man shrugged. "Perhaps it IS a hopeless appeal to force. But you do not have to be the one to pay for it. Once you have the deal with Lucas Zanella set in stone and once Arachnos are stomped out, I can reassert full control over all industrial technology in the War Walls. I do not have to stand my ground and hold out forever. I just need to kill the spiders, lock the door, and eat the key before they finally take me out."

 

Countess Crey did not answer him, simply staring on mirthlessly.

 

"I'm already finished, see. The other Directors...Failure like mine is not something tolerated. I will be retired, Echelon Six will be disbanded and all of its members and assets shuffled and reorganized. I may not have a soul anymore, but that is a blessing in disguise. I am free to do what I need now to secure my legacy. All I need to do...is hold out long enough for Malta, and Crey, to secure full control over the network. I will die, and use everything left in Echelon Six to delay and hold back the tide while you work...and once we have full control, you can work with the other Directors to ensure it is never lost again. Who knows...? With my recommendation, perhaps I might even be looking at the next Director to take my place..."

 

Countess Crey remained silent. The Twilight Man raised his glass in her direction. "Well? Are you in or not? One last dance...?"

[Terminal]

Civic Appeal

Epilogue

 

One Month Later...

 

The day dawned, and as the sun broke over the horizon and illuminated the world with its amber rays - in Atlas Park, the War Walls and their ethereal radiance, shut off. The twinkling, glimmering fields of resonant force separating the upper bounds of the zone vanished.

 

This was no surprise to anybody - it was a planned, temporary shutdown of the walls in order to facilitate a full-scale, joint federal and state inspection of the War Wall Infrastructure, searching for signs of tampering, sabotage, and exploitation while also performing much-needed servicing and implementing a few minor upgrades. Each zone would be inspected sequentially in turn, the War Walls switching on and off across the city over the course of the next few months as the massive superstructure was worked on.

 

This had been the result of the newly elected Rhode Isle congress almost unanimously passing an act that would structure and fund a committee responsible for examining significant, strategic infrastructure in the state, appraising it for 'unintended, weaponized applications' and installing safeguards against abuse. Appropriately enough, it was called the 'Security against Civic Superweapons Act.'

 

There were a number of problems with the act. There were concerns that the ultimate goal of the new agency (The Bureau of Benign Civic Engineering or Double-BCE) were ultimately impossible to attain. There were conspiracies about a secret, clandestine paramilitary group interwoven amongst the Federal Government and the highest echelons of power that controlled the new agency and would simply repurpose the War Walls to their own ends. There were additional conspiracies that the act was simply the latest in a number of strategically formulated corporate suits and lobbying efforts intended to choke all remaining life out of healthcare advocacy, and that the new agency was just a proxy for megacorporate interests. Then, there were further conspiracies that the War Walls were nothing less than the product of Mad Science, and that no mundane scientific authority or venture could possibly hope to come to grips with the technology while competing against the overtly malign activities and intervention of superpowered science villains.

 

In spite of these rumors and concerns however, the Bureau had still been formed, and far more routine and regular diagnostic and survey information concerning the War Wall infrastructure would shortly become available to the city and its citizenry. Regardless of the truth of the matter (for indeed, there was some element of truth to be found in most of the rumors), the Bureau would go on to fulfill its intended purpose of shining some much-need illumination upon the previously poorly regulated and maintained inner workings of Paragon City's famous hallmark.

 

As the work of the Bureau began, numerous news agencies were busily airing their first reports and news segments concerning the release of Countess Crey on bail, to be placed under House Arrest pending the outcome of her multiple, ongoing criminal trials. The business of Crey Industries carried on unabated, and though state Congress had almost unanimously been able to pass their Security against Civic Superweapons Act, the signs of Crey's influence - and indeed, multiple other groups of interest, including Arachnos amongst others - had begun to show. Already, more than a dozen different proposed bills and suggested redrafts of the Infamous Question One Ballot Initiative had been shot down in open session, alongside more than forty different submitted and proposed bills concerning address and regulation of statewide healthcare.

 

...The more things changed, it seemed, the more they stayed the same.

 

888888888888

 

Countess Crey, having finally returned to the confines of the designated Penthouse that had been selected for her period of house arrest, disdainfully sniffed as an apologetic-looking technician severed the ankle monitor from her leg before handing it off to a nearby technician, already standing by with a suite of tools and a laptop in order to jailbreak the mechanism beyond any hope of being able to actually fulfill its intended purpose.

 

As they worked, Countess Crey walked into the dining area, and poured herself a glass of gin from the long bar before turning on the news for the massive telescreen built directly into the penthouse wall.

 

"...and it looks as though Crey Industries is finally starting to pull back out of the sharp slump in its stock performance it took last quarter due to the scandal of the attempted Medi-Corp takeover, although it is still down in the index by over a thousand points. Experts agree that they are likely to pull out of the gap entirely by the end of the fiscal year, but that regardless this represents the biggest economic downturn for the corporate giant in its history. With signs that Countess Crey herself will remain at the helm of the industry supergiant, all claims to the contrary by its new President, it is expected there are going to be long-term ramifications on all speculation and futures involving Crey and its various subsidiaries and affiliates due to newly factored considerations of 'leadership volatilit-"

 

The screen's surface cracked, the image instantly dissolving into multicolored static as some invisible force contorted it, the machinery sputtering and crackling as it broke down and fell to pieces beneath the Countess' withering and baleful gaze.

 

888888888888

 

...In an undisclosed location, a number of holograms used a darkened, hushed chamber for the high-tech equivalent of a conference call. The holograms themselves were little more than tall monoliths of light emblazoned with number designations, one through nineteen. Conspicuously, there was a gap amongst them where the sixth should have been.

 

"Project Caedroia has come to an end, alongside its author." Monolith One intoned, an automatic voice-modulation system completely scrubbing it of any identifying characteristics. "Our assets within the Double-BCE have been instructed to do their jobs. The priority is to ensure neither Arachnos nor the Rikti can establish any kind of meaningful control over the Marduk asset."

 

"What about the Nictus? Rixis remains active and at large. Signs indicate he fully intends to continue pursuit of conversion and weaponization of the Caedroira infrastructure." Monolith Eighteen inquired. The voice-modulation wiped it of any identifying characteristics, but there was some varying and somewhat distinguishing differences between the volume and tone of each Monolith regardless, presumably for the benefit of the rest so as to distinguish the speech of one anonymous Monolith from another.

 

"Rixis is not presently a priority consideration. For all his pretense of erratic behavior, his actions over time conform and adhere to his known agenda. Assessment places him as being a target of minor concern. He is operating foremost with eliminating the Kheldian presence upon Earth, and there are no signs of his veering away from Arakhn's faction in spite of their strained relations." Monolith Fourteen chimed.

 

"It has been too long since you've been in the field, or paid attention to his locality." Monolith Eleven interjected. "There are signs that Rixis plans on releasing his Nictus Shards in the Rogue Isles markets soon, with the tacit permission of Arachnos. His entire Cimmerian Path is an existential threat and must be eliminated."

 

"Rixis' has consolidated all of his assets in a single fortified location, including the production lines for the Shards and the barracks and training grounds for all of his Cimmerians." Responded Monolith Five. "While his position is conventionally unassailable, it is nothing a few cruise missiles fired at short range from a conveniently placed Nuclear Submersible cannot deal with. While this would be unlikely to kill Rixis himself, it would result in the complete destruction of his external power base. We can handle Rixis at any time of our choosing, and presently he is a useful agent with whom we share mutual, convergent interests."

 

"What about Marduk? We are wasting its utility on the class warfare entailed in state corrections. You say Project Caedroia is done, but we should not leave such a valuable asset on the table."

 

"We do not intend to leave Marduk unused, but that operation exceeds the scope of this conference. The matter is to be handled by the replacement for Zero Six, which I intend to see handled now. I motion for a new, immediate selection."

 

"Seconded."

 

"Recognized. Assessment has already assembled a short list of high-performance replacements for the consideration of this conference..."

 

888888888888

 

Within Science Lord Rixis' personal office within his small citadel at Crimson Cove, the robotic platform surged back to life, umbral energies writhing across and within the previously dormant suit, the emanation of a Nictus negative energy manifold coalescing above the control dais affixed atop it.

 

"I assume your outing was productive, sir?" Nikalla aired dryly from nearby, still standing rigidly stock-still in the same place she had been when the suit had powered down some hours before. She did not even bother to look up from her smartpad.

 

"Indeed! The Vortex now has the final piece they need for our contingency plan - and all that is needed is for us to supply him with a suitable distraction!" Rixis exclaimed and his suit rose from the computer-interface desk where it had been seated.

 

"Well, there will be our release of our Nictus Shards in the local market soon enough..." Nikalla ventured.

 

"Insufficient!" Rixis snapped. "EVERYBODY is going to be all over those already anyway! That effort is reserved for ongoing Synchronization efforts, we need something more...pointed."

 

"Pointed, sir?" Nikalla asked, looking up from her smartpad finally and raising an eyebrow.

 

"Oh yes. Concerning the members of Task Force Revanche, the ones most likely to interfere with the Vortex." Rixis exclaimed as he snapped his robotic fingers, summoning a nearby army of hovering sentient quantum workstations (all under various degrees of duress and protest, as befitting their name).

 

"Sir, did you not just cohere the locality of this band selection due to the singular promise of those individuals?" Nikalla voiced, the hint of disbelief rank in her voice. "I cannot tell you how irksome I would find it if you caused me that much busywork just to have half of them killed off."

 

"Oh no, nothing permanent." Rixis waved off her concern (literally, his robotic and errant wave nearly slapping her upside the head). "Just something to get them good and riled - hopping mad, to borrow Human parlance! - with me. Those exasperating starfish rinds are going to hate it. Just you wait..."

888888888888

 

"...I do not like how quiet Supernal Artifice has been. They are planning something." Arakhn mused.

 

"You could always order him to join us one of these evenings. I am certain I could persuade him to toe the line more meaningfully." The Center proposed with a faint smile as he personally poured out a glass of champagne for her. They were taking dinner together in the private recesses of his office within the depths of the Striga facility, and the Center's tastes ran more pragmatic than decadent. Several mass-produced and cheaply framed paintings were mounted in a slapdash fashion from the bare-earthen wall on one side of the room, illuminated by cheap, hanging fluorescent lights. A wilted potted plant sat in the corner, and the two of them both reclined on a small couch near a coffee-table rife with pulp magazines that could have been found in any Dentist's office, and a small radio set was still playing some hazy and indistinct Italian song, interspersed by static.

 

It was the office of a no-name, low-ranking Italian functionary. Exactly the way the Center had it decades past, and somehow, also exactly how he liked it. So he had confided in her the first time she had seen the office when they had moved to Striga.

 

Arakhn shook her head. "Do not be fooled. That suit of his...he does not wear it. He pilots it, remotely. He does not even meet with me in person these days, and were I demand he attend to the both of us in-person..." She reached up to her face and removed the large plate covering it so she could indulge in the Center's proffered glass.

 

"He would know." She concluded.

 

The Center sighed as he rubbed at his temple with one hand. "The situation is starting to remind me of Requiem, my dear."

 

"I know. Rixis is loyal to me in ways that even the Dirge of Entropy was not. There is no fear of him abandoning us with another schism." Arakhn confessed as she leaned back against the couch cushions. The two of them were completely alone within the cramped office - even The Center's Ascendant Guards had been dismissed to stand outside. It was a remarkable display of trust...or at least, it might have seemed that way to an unfamiliar onlooker. The Center habitually dismissed his guards to speak with most of his guests in private. It had very little to do with security, since The Center was very rarely ever at risk from anybody within hearing distance.

 

"At worst, he would simply sever all public ties. He would never act against me." She peered at The Center coolly. "...Us."

 

888888888888

 

"...and that, we believe, to be the full extent of Science Lord Rixis' plot to convert Paragon War Walls into a large-scale recreation of the Nictus' 'Great Work.'" Viridian concluded, hands clasped behind his back as he and Shadow Spider once more found themselves in Arbiter Daos' private office, briefing him on their findings.

 

"Rixis continues to prove a master at shrewdly toeing lines." Daos muttered. "Right down to his choice of location for his HQ, and the way he seems able to effortlessly reframe everything he does to align with the interests of other parties. Even multiple, opposing parties."

 

"About that, sir." Shadow Spider interjected. Anybody else with the gall to interrupt Arbiter Daos would have very quickly discovered what the wrong side of an Arachnos internment cell looked like, but from her he simply arched a wry brow.

 

"Discrete internal monitoring by our sleeping agents indicates ongoing temporal activity around the Cimmerian Complex. At first, this was dismissed as residual effects of various mechanisms and devices - Temporal Analyzers and the like. Continued observation has concluded this to not be the case however. We are fairly confident that Rixis is engaged in some manner of overt time travel."

 

That was perhaps the most damning thing Shadow Spider could have said of Rixis. There were vanishingly few laws within the Etoiles, but one of the few enforced - for all that it was unwritten, even more rigorously and viciously - was the prohibition against any and all manner of time travel or temporal manipulation.

 

Daos even visibly hesitated a moment before shaking his head. "Ultimately unsurprising. He is Nictus after all, and all of their kind are implicated in some manner with Requiem's conspiracy, allied or not...and once again, Rixis' redoubt being stationed in Nerva Archipelago affords him leeway in this matter. If this unusual temporary activity is isolated to his Crimson Cove facility, then it does not violate the proscription." He then cast his gaze to Virdian. "...All the same, inform our new Rift-Runners to start fracking the central finite curve for insight into this matter. I either want it verified that Rixis' operation is not a threat to Project DESTINY, or else I want him gone and for him to never have been a problem for us in the first place."

 

Once the two had both left the office, Daos turned back to his monitor and pulled up the opened file on one Operative Slate. "Hm. Cover identity compromised...I suppose there was no helping it..." Daos muttered mostly to himself.

 

Slate had done Arachnos no few good turns as of late. The Arbiter Corps had already had their eyes on him due to his accomplishments. Now, Daos himself was starting to take a serious consideration of the Operative. This was a person whose future within Arachnos cast a massive, looming shadow. Only his position within Black Scorpion's division (thereby subject to rife and inept instances of his Patron claiming credit for most of what the operative accomplished) had kept him from causing too much of a buzz in Arachnos' web, at least officially. With him having personally apprehended Ms. Liberty, effectively having stuck a thumb in both her and the Vindicators' as well as the Freedom Phalanx' eye - and having secured a Malta Director's soul even after Ghost Widow herself had completely bungled its acquisition - was not something that could be ignored. 

 

Anybody who was anybody in Arachnos was eying Slate with a mixture of envy and remote calculation right now. Whether he managed to find a way to slide back under the radar or not remained to be seen, but increasingly, at least to Daos, it was becoming more and more evident that Arachnos could not afford to let such talent continue to skulk below its full potential.

 

He was going to have to personally begin to monitor the situation. Whether this would bode for good or ill for Slate, remained to be seen...

 

888888888888

 

Having returned to his apartment for the day, Special Agent Lance Guiomar of Superpowered Activity Monitoring tossed his jacket over his bed, went to his closet, and accessed his private safe. It had always bothered him how unsecure the standard civilian model was, but it anything serious might have raised suspicion. He opened it, and retrieved the recording device from within.

 

The record of Snowblind's incriminating words. Words that Lance had promised to use in his own pursuit of advancement within SAM.

 

Lance sighed, deleted the entire record, and then placed the recorder inside a degaussing frame to completely wipe it and indelibly destroy any possibility of the contents being restored or retrieved. As much as Lance hungrily desired elevation within SAM - having had his eye on the title of Special Agent In Charge for several years now - he realized that the attention and (relative) fame Snowblind had accrued due to his role within Task Force Revanche made it a very dicey prospect to actually bring forward charges against the department. 

 

He was just going to have to find another way. The icy lycanthrope was simply too hot for the Agent's purposes.

 

888888888888

 

As the day passed, the sun rising to the apex of the sky, Atlas Park's War Walls switched back on, twinkling bright, with no catastrophe or misfortune of note having transpired but for their momentary absence. 

 

It was a new season for Paragon - a new season for everybody.  The Ballot Initiative had been recalled, the underlying issues framed as its point of address continuing to evade legislative review or remedy. Malfeasant actors, exploiting the highest and most sacred institutions of the state - and in fact the whole of the country - continued to work in furtherance of base self-interest at the cost of everybody else (what else is old?).

 

The more things changed, the more they stayed the same, and though history never quite repeated, it had retained its tendency to rhyme. 

 

Though things always seemed dark and dismal on the horizon, it was the efforts of the common, ordinary people - and the heroes amongst them - who made the moment seem all the brighter. Who brought about, and effectuated, meaningful change and progress in spite of the opposition and hostility of the monolithic agendas arrayed against them. Even as a thousand and more conspiracies and plans unfurled around the fallout of the Ballot Initiative scheme, and though very little good seemed to have come of it - at least the world could now see more clearly for the shadows that had been cast aside. A little more of the darkened veil drawn aside, a little more space made for the world to be made that little bit better. 

 

No Civic Appeal is ever certain to meaningfully alter or improve lives, or the world - but the effort, the experience, and the resolve found along the way aggregate within and amongst individuals and communities, until eventually, a new generation grows wise and grasps the reins of change for themselves - whereby all that they know is then brought to bear.

 

...and where better, for this trial, this ordeal of the spirit to have transpired, than here? Paragon City.

 

...A City of Heroes...