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“We have been conducting studies on Captain Thunder and Magnetron and are starting to come to grips with the reality of their newfound situation. While on the surface the two appear the same, their brain waves are exhibiting peculiar patterns, and their powers are no longer performing in a manner which they had previously. The two men seem to display radically different personalities at this point, Captain Thunder showing symptoms of mania and increased mood swings, while Magnetron has entered into a state of depression, unwilling to be around others except for testing.
From what we have gathered during testing, the results do not look promising. Between the altered brain waves and the erratic influx of their powers, the two men are becoming increasingly unstable. When asked to perform even the most mundane of tasks, their power outputs skyrocket, resulting in dangerous outcomes, particularly with Captain Thunder. We fear that the effects of the solar flares are not subsiding, and this may be irreversible. What this means for the two moving forward, we have yet to determine.
On a brighter note, we have managed to devise a temporary solution, or at least Morgan Winter has. The man is brilliant, and his work with Tech has proved to be quite invaluable. Utilizing the theory behind his unique powers Morgan has been able to create a device that will be able to suppress the Deus gene within the metamorphs, effectively neutralizing their powers. He calls it the Deus Dampener, a silver, orb-shaped device that radiates energy and can provide temporary relief of powers when held. He has also been working on creating modified versions in the shape of bands which would be placed around the neck or wrists.
While our people have been pleasantly surprised by this technology, it is growing more and more apparent that Captain Thunder feels otherwise. Immensely displeased by the very notion of the device, his attitude toward Morgan has been nothing short of aloof, if not downright disrespectful. It would seem that Winter does his best to win his mentor’s approval, but his efforts are in vain. He is often ignored and typically reprimanded for nearly every action that he makes, Captain Thunder especially upset with what he calls a ‘neutering’ of their species.
I hope that they can sort all of this out soon before it is too late. Captain Thunder is starting to isolate himself from the group, and there are rumors that other members are willing to step up in his absence and assume the mantle of leadership. I'm sure he will not take well to this."
-An excerpt taken from the pages of Bridging the Gap: My Time as the Liaison for The Magnificent Seven by Leia Wojcinski
––––––––
WITHIN THE DARKNESS of the secluded room, the general watched with grim pleasure the events that were unfurling from the tablet within his hands. Upon being notified of the unruly crowd, he had called for an emergency protocol to be enacted, and the President was taken to a secure location beneath the facility while his men had been ordered to keep her under guard. He had left them under the premise that he would be managing the situation remotely, instructing his S.W.A.R.M. soldiers electronically through their headpieces. Thus, he found himself within the isolated office, sending out his orders to his men through his headset and electronic tablet.
The general had remained surprisingly calm while managing the situation and directing the President to remain in hiding. After all, it had been he who had reached out anonymously to several of the local news teams and human rights groups concerning the meeting. Despite this fact, even he had not anticipated the numbers that had shown up this afternoon. Still, the larger the group, the more effective his plan would be.
Using the tablet’s interface, he could manipulate the mech-suits from here, customizing their defenses based upon the intel he received regarding potential threats. He was already beginning to adapt his soldiers to the electrical powers of the Davids boy while maximizing their telepathic defenses from the Latino one. There wasn't much he could do in terms of the young African, however, he could at least enhance their outer shell to decrease the force of his blows.
With the death of Lieutenant Terry, there was surely about to be chaos, his men needing to not only quell the metamorphs but make sure that the surrounding civilians didn't interfere and tear them apart themselves. This had been an unfortunate, yet necessary, evil, and the general was still trying to hold back the bile that was forcing its way up his gullet. He had liked Lieutenant Terry, however, his death would not be in vain. The self-detonator which General Stone had activated was a failsafe that had been built into every suit in case one of the freaks managed to get their hands on it. He had wrestled with the decision for several nights now, but his actions couldn’t be undone. If his plan was to work, if change was really to occur, there needed to be sacrifices. It was never an easy decision to make, but General Stone knew the result would be worth it. Now, he just needed to make sure the rest of his men survived, and that they accomplished their mission.
They needed those metamorphs incapacitated.
––––––––
TRISTAN HAD HAD ENOUGH. Grabbing hold of his neck brace, he clicked the override on the back of the device, weakening its power over him. If he was going to protect himself, he couldn’t allow this thing to slow him down and restrain him from protecting his teammates from the angry mob around them. He needed to unleash his powers, and he needed them now.
As the crowd made their way toward them, Tristan charged forth, leaping into the air and releasing a blinding flash of light from the palm of his hands. One of the bolts struck a mech-soldier dead in the chest, blowing him backward into the crowd. Tristan landed upon the steps and thrust down the palm of his hand, shooting several volts of electricity forward in lines that flickered menacingly around him. Startled, the oncoming crowd backed away in an attempt to avoid the fearsome current. Tristan was pulling his punches, not wanting to harm the civilians, however, he needed to try to establish some sort of order. With Principal Winter currently down, he wasn't about to let him and his friends be detained.
"Last chance," Tristan growled. "I don't want to hurt any of you. It wasn’t us that hurt your friend, but I have no problem taking you guys down if you keep this up."
"I don't give a damn what you want,” one of the mech-soldiers cried out through their speakers. “You hurt one of our own, son, you're paying the price. You can either make this difficult, or we can do it the easy way. Your choice."
Tristan raised an eyebrow, a small smirk coming to his face. "Clearly, you don't know me. That's never really been a choice." With that, Tristan lunged forward, his fists sparking with electricity. The mech-soldier grounded his feet to the steps, and a brief shimmer ran across the chrome plating while he held his stance. Perhaps it was just Tristan’s imagination, but it appeared as if the suit had taken on a slightly different shade of black, a hint of light blue blending into the paint. Without much time to reconsider his next move, Tristan pressed forward and threw a fist, electricity empowering the blow.
The mech-soldier caught the fist with an open palm, and to Tristan's surprise, the electricity in his hand dissipated upon contact. The shock wave ran from the man's wrist straight through to the soles of his boots, where it passed harmlessly into the ground below. Before Tristan could react, the mech-soldier grasped his fist and spun around, using the young man’s momentum to flip Tristan’s body over his steel form and onto the ground. Landing on his back, Tristan was helpless as the mech-soldier drove his knee straight down into Tristan's exposed stomach. Tristan let out a wheeze, a mixture of bile and blood rising to his throat, and he could barely gurgle out a cry of pain.
What the heck was going on? His electricity had affected them before. How could they have suddenly developed the ability to neutralize his powers?
The mech-soldier raised his fist to deliver a blow to Tristan's head, and Tristan instinctively fired forth a blast of electricity right into the humanoid's helmet. As before, the mech-soldier didn't even seem fazed by the attack, the current washing over his suit and passing out into the ground.
"Yeah, I've seen that trick before, smartass. You’ll have to do better than that."
"Then how about this?!"
The mech-soldier barely had time to lift his head before a giant, sand warhammer smashed into the man's chest. A thunderous crack resonated as the metallic suit nearly exploded upon impact, the body soaring back at least twenty feet over the crowd. Gabriel extended his hand to Tristan, lifting his friend back to his feet. As Juan approached from behind, Tristan tried to clear the cobwebs from his still-reeling mind.
"We need to get outta here now. These people are about to lose their minds, and I'm not about to be lynched out here by a mob for a crime I didn't commit," Gabriel stated.
"Then what are we waiting for?" Juan shrugged. "No killing, but no holding back. We can try to find a safe house or someplace nearby where we can regroup and figure out where to go from here."
A confident grin swept across Juan’s face as he turned toward the crowd and extended his hands. Their friend closed his eyes, furrowing his brow in concentration while the civilians continued to creep forward, still wary of the boys’ powers. With barely a moment to spare, Juan opened his eyes and looked upon the crowd, eyes glazed over.
"Sleep," he commanded, dropping his hands to his side.
Immediately, the people followed his movement, their bodies falling onto the steps of the courthouse without so much as an utterance of disagreement. In the blink of an eye, all of the humans within the mob had fallen unconscious under Juan’s solitary word.
Needless to say, these were the moments when Tristan seriously considered whether or not he could be considered the school’s prized pupil.
Unfortunately for them, however, none of the mech-soldiers appear to be affected, though they looked on in amazement at the fallen humans around them. Tristan could sense a change in electrical activity within their helmets that had previously been inactive.
Well, that's not good. Looks like they neutralized Psyborg, too.
"All right, looks like these guys are little more powerful than we gave them credit for. Let’s take them out and get the hell outta here," Tristan commanded, rushing forward. His body burned with energy, and he could feel the dark marks slither above his collar and into his face. At this point, he didn't care. This was life or death, and he needed whatever advantage he could get.
Racing ahead to meet their opponents, Tristan released several blasts of electrical energy at their robotic forms. As before, the mech-soldiers merely grounded the electrical current and stood firm, however, this served to prove Tristan’s hypothesis and enforced his idea. Shooting forward into a take-down position, Tristan lowered his shoulder into the torso of the mech-soldier before him, his front knee sliding in between the chrome legs. Wrapping his arms around its torso, Tristan used his leverage to lift his opponent straight off the ground. While lifting the protesting soldier, Tristan released a flood of energy from his body, the surge no longer grounded by the stone steps. Tristan heard the mech-soldier cry out in pain as he body-slammed the humanoid into the ground, a portion of the man's suit blasting off from the sheer force of power.
Nearby, Juan was mentally hoisting two of the mech-soldiers and hurling them into one another like a toddler with their rag dolls, the suits colliding with a sickening crunch following each collision. Tossing their unconscious bodies into the streets, Juan slammed their forms into two parked cars on the other side of the road. Meanwhile, Gabriel had already unleashed the sand vials hidden within his suit to wrap around the remaining three mechs before lifting them into the air and bashing them repeatedly into the pavement like whack-a-mole. The mech-soldiers stopped protesting after about the fourth time, their suits no longer illuminated, and Gabriel threw them to the side.
While the boys proceeded to race down the steps, Tristan tried to calculate another means of escape before spotting Juan pausing briefly to stick his hand into the pocket of one of the unconscious women from the downed mob. He pulled out a set of keys and gestured to the two boys.
"Come on, follow me. I know where she's parked, and we could use her car as a getaway. It'll be a lot less suspicious than the three of us flying around in the middle of the night."
The parking lot being only a few feet away, Juan was able to direct them to where the woman had parked her white truck. The boys piled in, and Juan took the driver’s seat, gunning the engine before tearing his way through the parking lot.
"Juan, do you know where you're going? Have you ever been to D.C. before?" Tristan questioned, and Juan promptly shook his head.
"Nope. No idea, but anywhere is better than where we just were."
"I hope Principal Winter is all right. The man is going to be pissed when he finds out what we did," Gabriel muttered.
"No choice, Gabe. If we stayed behind with him, we were only buying them time to detain us, if not worse. At least with his relationship with the president, he'll be protected. I wasn't about to risk our lives for something we didn't do," Tristan replied.
"Speaking of that, what the hell happened back there?" Juan questioned. "It was like that guy just exploded. But I didn’t notice any power surge from you, Tristan."
"Yeah, I know. It had to have been a suit malfunction or something. But whatever it was, it looked like it came from me. Another thing I can’t figure out is how those soldiers were able to neutralize some of our powers. After the first few shots, it seemed like they had adapted or something. They neutralized all of my blasts, and Juan, your telepathy had no impact on them. Do you think their suits have some built-in protection or something?"
Juan nodded grimly. "For sure. When the battle first started, I felt like I had a dim grasp on their minds, however, when I tried to delve further and put them to sleep, it was like something blocked my abilities, restricting my link to them. While they couldn't stop me from using my telekinetic abilities, my telepathy was definitely affected."
"Well, we need to make sure—!"
Before Tristan could finish his thought, the asphalt exploded several feet away from them, a black robotic soldier landing directly ahead. The mech-soldier removed two automatic weapons from its holsters and unloaded at the vehicle.
"Holy crap!" Juan screamed in a rare display of emotion, attempting to swerve between the nearby cars while avoiding the oncoming bullets. Several rounds managed to scrape the side, but they were thankfully unaffected by the strays.
"All right, it looks like these guys are playing for keeps! Let's make sure they live to regret it!" Tristan cried out.
As their assailant continued to fire his weapon, Juan raised his free hand, diverting the bullets away from the car. When they drove past, Gabriel released a giant fist of sand from the side window and smashed it straight into the mech-soldier’s sleek helmet. The sand fist struck at the rate of the car and lifted the mechanized body back into a car that was driving beside him. The car’s hood immediately crumpled on impact, and the mech-soldier lay still upon the impacted steel frame.
Juan took a sharp turn, ignoring the red light that flashed before him, and only just managed to avoid colliding with several oncoming cars. Using his powers, the teen manipulated the nearest ones, shifting them harmlessly beside their car as they maneuvered through the chaos. Maintaining control of the vehicle, Juan stepped on the gas pedal and increased their speed down the road.
Before they crossed to the next street, Tristan heard a powerful wailing siren coming from above. Turning his head to glance out the back window, Tristan spotted several red and blue lights flashing in the sky emanating from several small forms. Even from this distance, the young men could hear the overpowering, robotic voice: "Metamorphs, stop the vehicle. Exit the car with your hands on your heads, and get on your knees. If you do not comply, we will use force. This is your final warning."
In response, Tristan leaned out the side of the car and shot forth several blasts of electricity into the sky. From what he had learned from their previous scuffle, if they were not securely grounded to the earth, his blasts could impact the mech-soldiers. Adjusting his electrical currents, Tristan attempted to pick off the flying soldiers, who were trying their best to dodge his barrage. With Tristan providing a distraction, Juan was doing his best to safely get them through the maze of vehicles around them while ignoring every traffic law imaginable.
"We need to get to some kind of garage and try to lose them on foot. With them tracking us from the skies, we don't stand a chance of getting away," Juan called back as he swerved the car into a turning lane.
"Tristan, do you think you can distract those soldiers long enough to give us a chance to find a place to hide? With them being that high up, my powers are useless," Gabriel stated.
"I got these guys. Just make sure we don't have any mechs on the ground that we have to worry about,” Tristan muttered while he focused his energy into the palm of his hands.
As they turned onto the next street, Gabriel and Juan let out simultaneous groans. Tristan turned his head to see what they were concerned about, and his heart stuck in his throat. Just up ahead were at least ten mech-soldiers standing before a police blockade. Several heavy-duty police trucks and S.W.A.T. vehicles had blocked off the street and were only a few blocks ahead. There was no way they would be going around and avoiding the confrontation.
Despite their precarious situation, Juan smirked and looked at Gabriel. "I've got an idea and I'm sending it directly into your mind. Get yourself ready, because this is about to get insane. Tristan, make sure you keep those goons up there distracted."
Gabriel started to protest, however, he stopped abruptly, his eyes widening as he processed the information. "Psyborg, have I ever told you how crazy you are?"
Juan simply laughed before slamming his foot onto the gas pedal. The car shot forward at maximum speed, accelerating with each second. Tristan had no idea what was about to happen, but he knew he needed to maintain his focus on keeping their pursuers at bay. At this point, his hands were on fire, and the black markings had spread from his palms and were slithering past his cheeks.
They were now only a few feet away from the police barricade, and the law enforcers had already unholstered their weapons, firing in the direction of the oncoming car. The only civilian motorist on the abandoned street, Juan raised his hand before him and deflected the blazing salvo. Despite a steady stream of blood dripping down his nose and ears, Juan continued to manipulate the projectiles as they drew ever closer.
"All right, Psyborg! Here we go! I sure hope you know what you're doing," Gabriel screamed as he stuck his hand out of the window and closed his eyes. Taking a deep breath, Gabriel’s face went from a tense expression of anxiety to a calm, confident countenance. Gabriel’s features softened, emitting an aura of serenity, as opened his eyes and stared down their opponents.
Gabriel’s enclosed fist suddenly opened, his palms shooting forward, and Tristan witnessed the entire street before him erupt in a raw display of sheer power. The pavement, asphalt, and concrete simply shattered in front of them, the earth crumbling in on itself as the explosion tore through the soldiers and cars ahead. Vehicles flipped into the air, tossed around like matchbox cars in the hands of a toddler, and the soldiers flew back from the force of the eruption. While Gabriel used his powers to collapse the swiftly approaching road, the car itself began to lift into the night sky.
For a moment, Tristan paused to wrap his mind around the situation. Gabriel had just annihilated an entire city block while Juan was lifting the car into the air to avoid the chaos and destruction in their path. While this would help them avoid the disaster below, it would also give Tristan a clear line of shots at the mech-soldiers flying behind them. Tristan didn’t hesitate to release the blasts from the palm of his hand, the large electrical orbs shooting out toward their pursuers. The mech-soldiers were immediately shocked, trapped within the fury of the lightning storm, and their forms subsequently crash-landed onto several rooftops below. The subsequent aftershock rocked the car while Juan attempted to maintain their current flight.
"Geez, Trist! How about we don't blow up the city in an attempt to prove our innocence," Juan yelled out from the driver’s seat.
"Hey, you just focus on landing us safely. I'm pretty sure a flying car is slightly more obvious than flying teens," Tristan replied.
Once they had cleared the wreckage, Juan brought the car down gently onto the road, the wheels screeching as they returned to the asphalt, leaving the destruction behind. As they passed the next two blocks, Juan let out a sigh of relief.
"Well, that was a little too close for comfort," he muttered. Scanning the streets, Juan pointed to a large building at the next corner. "I think there's a parking garage right there. I'll get us inside and...”
As Juan spoke, something flickered from the corner of Tristan's eyes, an oncoming object moving at a speed he couldn't quite track.
"Guys, watch out!" Tristan screamed, but it was too late. One of the mech-soldiers had smashed into the side of the car, his robotic form nearly shearing the vehicle in half. The truck lifted clear off the ground and rolled several times along the road, while Tristan's body careened throughout the vehicle in a moment of absolute chaos. The vehicle crashed into a street post, halting his trajectory and bending the frame significantly.
Battered and broken, Tristan tried to scan the car and see if his friends were all right, his vision practically doubled as he fought off a wave of nausea that overcame him. He could barely see through the blood dribbling across his eyes, but he needed to make sure that his friends were all right. Gabriel let out a groan of pain, and Juan was beginning to stir over in his seat. Tristan could see Juan's lips moving, but could not make out the words, the ringing still present in his ears. Juan lifted a bloodied hand, and the side of the vehicle tore itself off of the hinges.
From where he lay, Tristan spotted a mech-soldier sauntering in their direction, gun pointed toward them. He was not alone. There were at least eight more behind him, advancing toward the downed metamorphs with caution. In their current state, there was no way the three teens were making it out of here without handcuffs. Still, Tristan was not about to go down without a fight. Charging up his body, allowing the emotions to flood forth, Tristan knew there could be no holding back. Regardless of the outcome, he needed to protect his friends. Even if that meant making a difficult decision.
As Tristan readied his blast, charging his body for the inevitable confrontation, the soldiers suddenly halted their advancement and began to fire. With each pull of the trigger, their bullets exploded in the air in clouds of dust, the metallic fragments shattering into harmless, frozen pieces as they exited the barrels. Tristan turned his head toward Juan, fully expecting his friend to be the one affecting the bullets, however, to his surprise, Juan was looking around in shock himself. Neither of the three was responsible for this reaction. Meanwhile, the soldiers were running around screaming, clearly focused on something else.
Suddenly, a rift began to appear before them, a purplish glow tearing through the very fabric of time and space. The mech-soldiers took notice, however, they seemed more focused on something above the vehicle. They continued to approach the vehicle, but before they could get too close, the rift expanded in a flash, expelling two bodies from the hole. One was a figure Tristan had never seen before, a massive beast of a woman, her body at least seven feet tall and made of what looked to be a metallic substance. The other was a man Tristan immediately recognized, a surge of hope racing through his chest.
The large woman turned her thick neck toward the mech-soldiers and smiled. She seemed unfazed by their bullets, and from the way they ricocheted off of her metallic body, she had every reason to be confident. She rushed forward, smacking the guns from the hands of two soldiers before delivering subsequent blows to their faces. The mech-soldiers tried to defend themselves, however, they were soon overpowered by her relentless attacks. The others nearby turned to assist their comrades, but as they rushed to help they found themselves engulfed within a massive burst of flame. The intensity of the flames blew them back as they cried out in pain, Diablo's flames forcing them to abandon their teammates. The handsome man grinned while he pressed forth, sending his blasts into the faces of any soldier who attempted to retaliate.
As Tristan watched, several more bodies crept out from the hole, many of whom Tristan did not recognize. They were clearly metamorphs, utilizing their powers to keep back the S.W.A.R.M., but for what purposes Tristan still didn’t understand.
Surely they weren’t here for them? Why on earth would these metamorphs come and risk their lives for us? Who were these people? And why was Diablo with them?
The last figure to step out of the portal was a metamorph that Tristan knew from his first year at the Academy, Diana Nguyen, a.k.a. Port, who was responsible for the rift behind her. Tristan had faced her in the Battledome, and the former fourth-year champion had been the one responsible for eliminating Team Davids that year. She gave him a reassuring smile as she stepped forth.
"Are you boys just gonna sit there and watch, or are you going to come with us and get the hell out of here? Our men can only hold them back for so long before their reinforcements arrive. I suggest you hop in, and we’ll get you three patched up."
Tristan turned to face his friends, a look of sheer disbelief across both their faces. Several loud footsteps thudded from up above the vehicle as their defender moved to step off the car. Landing gracefully, the metamorph spun around, his thin jacket flapping in the wind behind him.
Christian gave the group one of his trademark Hollywood grins.
"Oh, come on now. You always knew I could make a hell of an entrance. Now, stop looking at me like I'm some kind of magical genie and get your asses through that portal. Port can only hold the rift for so long. Let's get you guys out of here and back to the safehouse. We've got a lot to catch up on."
