Some other ideas are floating about but not really expanded upon. I would really like some feedback if you could give it and if you have any thoughts or questions say so. For the record this may not even be written Unless im sure its a good idea.

He slowly makes his way to the small glass door of his cell that leads to his shower, desperately turning the water scolding as if the water or heat could cleanse him and wash away the faces. He wipes over the fogged mirror and looks at his face, but sees only a stranger. Disgusted he moves his attention to his left hand. Just bellow his wrist is the catheter used for the gauntlet. They always take the gauntlet away afterwards to test his blood in it, and what they call the MT-VS7. That's apparently what he takes from the targets.

The buzzer above the door goes off and the Conduit instinctively moves towards his bed. A tall blonde man in a clean cut suit walks in, gauntlet in hand and female companion in tow.
"You will remove more." Eugen Diederich would waste no time asking the Conduit to do anything. He has the man wrapped around his little finger. Throwing the gauntlet into the conduits towel covered lap he swiftly leaves his companion alone in the room with the Conduit. She takes three canisters from her white lab coat and kneels beside the Conduit to take her medical examinations. Extracting blood here, taking temperature there. Then she speaks
"These are for the secondary targets" slipping two of the three canisters into the gauntlet, "this is for the primary target." She sometimes told him added mission details but then she asked"You got out before...Why not again" The conduit looked at her. Dozens of times he had been sent to 'remove them', before and after each one she had done the same exams. She had never asked him a question. He simply looked her straight in the eyes and told her:
"They've already won." He noticed a sadness to her eyes. He went back to staring straight ahead at the door. But out of the corner of his eyes he noticed her deviating from her usual routine. She was trying to remove the needle slyly but when she saw him looking she lunged, but he acted fast, first grabbing her needle hand next her other arm. He tossed her to the other side of the small room and she hit the wall with a thud. The conduit grabs the metal chair from the corner and throws it in her direction but before he knows it she is already on him needle in one hand and ice covering the other. Pinned down she freezes his arms to the floor and bites the cap from the needle, spitting it aside. "Do it!" he says, quietly at first, but soon he's shouting it. He breaks down into tear-less sobs of "end it"s and "please"s. Sitting on top of him, needle poised to kill, Dr Emily Read stops hesitantly.
"Why?" she asks "why do you want to die?"
"Every second i see them-"
"-who?"
"YOU KNOW WHO" he roars "you sent me after every single one of them! If you had done this sooner they'd be alive!"
Emily sits up slowly, needle still pointed at the Conduits neck. "and you're one of them" he mumbles in realization.
"It wasn't my assignment to kill you then" she replies "it is now". Emily looks at the needle for a long time, and eventually tosses it to the side.

Minutes later the Conduit is at his sink, rubbing warm water over his arms, Emily stands watching him.
"Why poison? Why not just freeze me to death?" He inquired.
"That's the poison we lace the gauntlet with, i needed it to look like suicide." She pauses "And it cant't be known that i'm a Vessel"
"And why am i not dead now?"
"Because you want to be." she said taking a few steps closer to the Conduit "You feel regret. I've seen too many of the Augmented come back and revel in what they have done... I can't kill the one good person on this ship" she said in a hushed voice.
Fully changed the conduit walks out the door, leaving Dr Read alone in the cell.

‘[Speak]!’ Quantou growls. His men have encircled me and there’s no way out. ‘[Who are you and what is your purpose here?]’
‘[My name is Kate Quinn],’ I say, hoping that the translator earpiece is translating my words properly. ‘[I’m looking for Ge Hong. I’ve been told he can help me.]’
I offer him the note left for me by the barista. One of the thugs grabs it from me.
‘[It’s not in Chinese sir]’ he says after looking at the note, before handing it to his boss. Quantou turns back to me and fixes me with a dark stare.
‘[What is you mother tongue foreigner?] He says with a tone of disgust.
‘[English.]’ I try to be polite as possible. It’s not wise to be rude to the obviously nationalistic psychopaths holding you hostage, especially when a number of them have weapons.
‘[Chen, come here,]’ Quantou barks. A younger Chinese guy, not much older than I am steps forward from the shadows. He is quite well built, obviously athletic, and, thankfully, not carrying a weapon. ‘[Translate it.]’
Quantou drops the note on the floor, making the younger guy pick it up before reading it out in what I have to assume is Chinese (having speech translated when it hits your ear is quite confusing in these situations). Once the Chen guy finishes, Quantou considers the situation for a minute before turning back to me.
‘[We know where Ge Hong is,]’ he says slowly, as if considering each word carefully. ‘[But we will not take you to him. This is a Chinese problem and we shall fix it ourselves. We do not need any foreign assistance.]’
I’m not really paying attention to his words though, because I can feel the vibrations through the ground. They’ve found me, I can tell, and my fears are confirmed a few seconds later by a thug rushing in to the room.
‘[Sir, Ascension are here, they’ve found us.]’
‘[How? We made sure we could not be tracked.]’ Quantou turns back to me. ‘[You. You lead them here.]’
I suddenly feel all of the weapons in the room focus on me. I try not to flinch but it’s quite hard when everyone in the room wants to kill you. To my surprise though, Chen approaches Quantou and puts himself between him and me.
‘[Sir, when we found this girl she had just taken out a squad of Ascension troops. She is against them as we are. If she did lead them to us it was by our actions, not hers, by bringing her here. Besides, she is MT-VS7 infused too, she could be an asset here.]’
‘Too?’ I muttered under my breath, confused. Quantou’s angry expression changed, but he still had a look in his eye that I didn’t like.
‘[Very well,]’ he said, signaling his men to go outside. ‘[She shall live, but if she betrays us, you will die as well Chen. As soon as the immediate problem is dealt with I want you both out of my sight. What you do after that is of your own volition, but as of now, Chen, you are no longer a Crimson Hand.]’
And with that Quantou left, leaving just Chen and me in the room. Chen helped me up as I started to feel the effects of the Empty Vessel bubbling up.
‘[Nice guy,]’ I say as we hurry out of the room. Chen smiles.
‘[Don’t mind uncle,]’ he says cheerfully. ‘[He’s just on edge at the moment, with the invasion.]’
‘[Uncle?]’ I throw him a quizzical look and he grins.
‘[Don’t worry, we’re not all like that. But he’s the senior, so he is in charge. Now, they will need our help.]’
We burst out of the building and the sight that greets my eyes is incredible. All of the Crimson Hand men all seem to be showing signs of super-powers. Super-speed, super-strength, transformation, each and everyone using and controlling a different power. It made me kind of jealous.
‘[Look out!]’
Chen barreled into me, knocking me out of the way of an Ascension laser.
‘[Good save,]’ I say dryly as we both clamber to our feet. He winks before rushing off into the fray. Amongst the chaos, I see him cutting through the cyborgs, washing them away using the water from the harbor as a weapon. Not bad, I thought to my self as I turned my attention back to my immediate surroundings, and the growing sick feeling within me.
‘Katherine Quinn, you are wanted by Ascension.’
God I was getting sick of that voice. Only five cyborgs surrounded me when I looked up, all of their guns pointing straight at me.
‘Only five?’ I say sarcastically. The sick feeling is building but, worryingly, nothing seems to be happening. ‘You guys know I’ve taken out twice that before now, don’t you?’
‘You will be eliminated.’
All of the guns whir and buzz as they charge up, the orange glow building.
Then I’m sick. Of all the things to happen when I’m about to get killed. The cyborgs look slightly puzzled, some even lowering their weapons slightly. Then one of them jumps out of his skin. His compatriots look at their companion in confusion and then I notice it. He was being dissolved, from the feet up, by my sick, which had begun to glow an eerie green. It was moving as well, which really freaked me, latching onto each of the cyborgs, eating them alive. Their screams were horrible.
‘That’s gross.’ I exclaimed, as the cyborgs were reduced to a gooey mess on the floor. I looked around. The fighting seemed to be growing, more cyborgs were showing up all the time. Smoke was flooding the scene, but I could just make out the shapes of three people heading towards me. I prepared myself to run, but luckily it was Quantou, Chen and another of the Crimson Hand members. All had various injuries and wounds and all had determined looks. They stopped just in front of me and Chen stood beside me, putting his hand on my shoulder.
‘[We need reinforcements,]’ Quantou said, addressing his two subordinates. ‘[Zhou, I want you to head to Macau and find Shan Zu, he will be able to help us.]
The Crimson hand saluted and headed off towards the mainland. Quantou turned his attention to Chen and myself.
‘[Chen, I want you to take this woman to Ge Hong and discover all he knows about Ascension. As the creator of the drug, he may be able to tell you where to find some others who can help us. He is in safe house five, area twelve. Be quick.]’
‘[Yes uncle.]’ Chen bows quickly before grabbing my hand and leading me off into the night. As we run I look over my shoulder. One of the triangle ships is hovering over the battle and I get the feeling that I’m being watched. The feeling sends a shiver down my spine as we run off into the blackness of the night.

Assessment of Kate Quinn
So as well as getting himself killed the thrice damned barrista did not infuse Kate Quinn correctly. I made it very clear that it must be injected straight into the blood stream! During testing those that ingested the MT-VS7 had rapid compulsions and internal liquidation of their organs. However Miss Quinn has not reacted thus, interesting. The manifestations she possess are clearly activated by stress or anger, much like the others, however they differ each time. Why she has had this reaction is beyond me and must be investigated.
Currently she is off doing god knows what. The triad failed to sheep dog her to the others and it appears that a third party has introduced her to the Crimson Hand. How did they come into this!?
No worries, they can be fit into my little plan quite easily.

Assessment of Gina Lamprey
She's done her job quite well this one, bu my previous assessment of her being easily manipulated may be a little off. Every now and then sh deviates from instructions. I believe her manifestation has left her a little unhinged. It also presents a threat to me, if she can see into the future then i must ensure that i never meet her...ever. I am going to have to play a difficult game to manipulate this one.
Also that stunt with the Ascension Cruiser is noted. They may have destroyed a whole Cruiser, but Ascension has lost absolutely nothing. Drawing attention to themselves in such a way is no good.

Combat Assessment of Terrance Anders, Shu Ji, Adrian Wight and the Triad
So some members of the bad of merry men had their first successful combat situation. They worked well as a team. Given time they will be a force to be reckoned with. Ascension will update my file from 'Thorn in the side' to 'pain in the Ass'... if they have a file on me. One notable incident was the street urchin taking part. I honestly infused him with MT-VS7 for fun. But this one may prove useful. He's certainly shown that he is capable of getting his hands dirty.

Assessment of 'The Conduit'
This one has become a little kick in the teeth. I bestow the guy with god like powers and he uses them to kill off my pawns. The only good thing about this is i know Ascensions Queen, and they are exposing it too much.
Some how the marvelous minds over at ascension have managed to use his manifestation to permanently remove the MT-VS7 from others. It kills them, but feeds him. Somewhere down the line that will destroy him, the addiction will soon be unbearable, but i can't wait that long. I could use him as a spy but the risk is too great. No, he needs to be dealt with.

Assessment of Rick Henare
Finally we get to my own remote controlled toy robot. I was surprised by how easily the Group at the Mall accepted him, you know, considering the whole cyborg thing. He may be ousted sooner or later but for now he can gather them around their little camp fires and tell them stories about how this all started. By the time they've heard what he has to say they will just be scrabbling to fight back. That rape bit as well, that just condemns Ascension as the 'bad guys', and i didn't even have to plant that in his head.
For now i'll let him do his own thing. But he is important. Very important.

Ascension: The Conduit Log
“[Please, don’t kill me.]”
The sky was dark, night had fallen over Hong Kong, the only light was provided by the searchlights of the invasion craft hovering overhead like giant insects. In a small back street a man is dragging himself along the floor, looking obviously worse for wear. The most striking thing about this man is the long spikes that run down his spine and arms, culminating in two long horns that protrude from his forehead. One of his horns is snapped off half-way up and the stump is a bloody mess. Blood drips down onto his face. His words are mumbled and quiet, he has obviously been running.
Someone appears in the street behind him, a man of medium size and quite decent build. It’s hard to see much of him due to the darkness and the fact he is wearing a hoodie with the hood up. He advances slowly on the horned man, rolling up his sleeve as he does so. He is wearing some sort of device on his wrist, which he touches, clicking some sort of cartridge into place as he stands above the horned man. The man looks up, a pleading look on his face.
“[Please]” he says. The light from one of the searchlights illuminates the assailant’s face for a brief moment. He is a youngish man, in his early twenties and his lower face is covered by a skull-patterned bandana. His eyes look sad, even remorseful.
“I’m sorry,” he says as he raises his hand and punches the horned man in the face, knocking him out. Lifting up the horned man’s left arm, he locates a small square scar on his elbow. Without a word he flicks a needle out from the device on his wrist and inserts it into the scar, drawing a strange fluid from the wound. Slowly the man’s horns and spins start to recede into his body, his skin growing paler, until the man looks normal. The assailant drops the now dead mans arm and rises to his feet, walking back the way he came without looking back.
Later that day, aboard the largest of the invasion craft, we find this man in what appears to be a cell, all be it a highly futuristic and clean cell, not like a prison cell, but like the sort of quarters you’d expect on a battleship from a few years in the future. The man is curled up on his bed, shaking, obviously having a nightmare. He is muttering under his breath franticly, his words barely audible. Inside his mind, he sees flashes of numerous dark alleys, numerous people just like the horned man, all of whom he had deprived of their lives that night. A tear forms in the corner of his closed eye.
“Welcome Commander Reischek.”
A number of levels above the cell is the bridge of the craft. It looks similar to the multitude of sci-fi control bridges, a multitude of screens and monitoring stations on a number of levels, each manned by a person completely focused on their station, all situated around a captains chair situated in the center of the room. And sliding into the room with an aura of malevolence to take his position in that chair is Jonathon Reischek, commander in chief of Ascension. His face is horribly scarred and his lower jaw missing, replaced by a mechanical one, but still he has a commanding prescience that suggests he is in complete control. One of the officers approaches him and salutes.
“Make your report captain, Reischek says, his voice not fully human, given a grating edge by his artificial jaw. The captain drops his salute and stands to attention.
“Commander, we believe we have located four of the five priority targets. Three are congregated in Times Square whilst the fourth is in the dockland area. We have sent a battalion to each location but the dockland battalion isn’t responding. We believe this is the work of the lone rebel. Should we dispatch any further troops sir?”
Reischek ponders this for a moment, his metal jaw resting on his hands.
“This rebel is priority two is she not?” He asks quietly.
“Yes Commander,” the captains said, looking quickly at his notes.
“Then she must be dealt with immediately.” Reischek sinks back into his chair. “Bring me the conduit.”
The captain salutes again and turns for the door. Reischek closed his eyes. These rebels must not be allowed to get in the way of his perfect world, in the way of his world peace.
A few minutes later, the man is brought before Reischek. He looked awful. It is fairly obvious that his sleep was not a happy one and he carries scars from numerous dangerous pursuits, as well as his more recent battles. Reischek studies him for a moment before addressing him.
“Your services are required again.” He says menacingly. “We have located a high priority rebel in the docks and she must be eliminated immediately. She is heading towards observation post 7.”
“She?’ The conduit looks uneasy at the thought of this; all of his previous assignments had been men or large groups. Going after one lone girl bothered him.
“Yes, she. That shouldn’t be a problem should it?” Reischek leered, menacingly. The conduit shook his head.
“Good,” Reischek rests back in his chair. “Remember, you are only alive because you are useful to us. If you are no longer willing to work, then you are no longer useful. Do I make myself clear.”
The conduit nods. He’d seen enough to know not to go against Ascension.
“Good,” Reischek said with a nasty smile. “One last thing you need to know before you go. This target does not seem to have a fixed power set, which may cause some complications. You must deal with this swiftly. No mess.”
“Yes sir,” The conduit said as he saluted weakly, before turning towards the door. How, he wondered, had his life got to this?

2. The Golden Age= A Multi-story about the vigilantes of the world during the world war and how they effected the countries or states they protected.

3. The Last Laugh = A story cantered around a joker-like hero. A hero called the clown whose mind is almost shattered by trauma he has suffered. His views on right and wrong are hazed by his own mental instability.
"He looked into the mirror and thought of what they did. They forced him to laugh as they killed his family in front of them. They wanted him to laugh at their deaths as they beat him to an inch of his life and threw him off the pier. He punched the mirror and it shattered around his fist. Blood ran down his fist like a river and he saw the badge in the cracked glass. They were going to regret letting him live."

4. The Storm Caller = A story cantering around my first ever hero idea Blitz. With numerous Lightning powers he patrols the city as both a superhero and an officer of the law. He is out to rid the city of crime for his dead parents and for the people of the city.

5. S.T.A.R.S (Special –Taskforce- Against- Rogue- Super beings) = about a group of soldiers who have been either scientifically enhanced or granted superhuman abilities through other means. They are a team of men whose mission is to stop terrorist acts around the world. Each member is from a different country and each has unique abilities. There are five active members of the stars excluding their commanding officer. This idea came to me slowly.
Each character was originally an idea for a separate hero but I could never get the feel that they would survive on their own. So I put them all in a team together.
"The old Englishman lifts the young American soldier off the ground and flipped him over his shoulder. The rest of the team watched in shock completely unaware of Major Quartermain's abilities in hand to hand combat.
'Still think you can take me on boy?' The major said smiling down at Inferno
Helping the young soldier up the Major turned to the group and smiled. With a pleasent tone in his voice he said "Welcome to the STAR unit gentlemen. "

6. Justice for all? =A Hero that has everything taken from him, convicted of crimes he didn’t commit and imprisoned behind bars. His story centres on his time in prison and what he does when he gets out. He finds out his enemies have made it big as crime lords to each section of the city and the police are in their pockets. His face is forgotten after being in hiding for a year plotting a way to take back this city and get revenge for what had happened to him. In a nutshell what happens when someone who protects, who is place so high on the podium, is brought down to rock bottom for no reason and how he deals with it? I had thought of this story for some time and after reading some crime novels and things like that, I wondered how someone who stood for justice would deal with this situation.

I grew up in a small town on the Swedish west coast. It was situated on the banks of a fairly large river, and had been a decently sized trading community throughout the middle ages. In the mid 17th century the town became overshadowed by the recently founded harbour city of Gothenburg, which had rendered the river obsolete for merchants, and since then nothing of particular note had happened in the area. The only thing that the town was known for during the early years of the 21st century was drunken teenagers. The town was a haven for underage drinking, with a steady influx of smuggled booze and a great lack of adults during the weekends, since they understandably chose to drink legally in Gothenburg instead.
Me and my friends were underaged at this point, and therefore we drank. There was really nothing better for us to do.

Our favourite drinking spot was atop the aforementioned cliff. It sat on the outskirts of town, far away enough to stay out of the immediate line of sight of the law enforcement, and close enough to home that we could all comfortably get there and back again by foot, wobbly as they may be. This is what I imagine it would have looked like during the highpoint of its rocky career:

This also illustrates why I tend to rely on the HeroMachine for drawings.

With its smooth slanted sides it wasn't hard to ascend, the top was covered in soft grass and it was high enough to provide a beautiful view of the town below. It really was the perfect spot, as long as you didn't do anything immensely stupid.

Unfortunately, I was at this point a very stupid teenager.

We had gathered on the hill one summer night, me and a half dozen of my friends to look at the stars, converse and drink ourselves senseless. Hours passed, bottles were emptied, laughs were had. It had, at this point, by all accounts been a great evening. I was drinking a mixture of bourbon and lemon juice (because I was an idiot) when one of my friends, who I shall refer to as Shoulder Devil, leaned over to me and whispered this in my ear, "I have an idea."

I was immediately skeptic. Shoulder Devil was known for having drunken ideas that seemed hilarious when they were presented, but turned out to be objectively horrible once the inebriation waned. Still, I gave her the benefit of a doubt. I really wish I hadn't.

"How about we take off all our clothes and roll around in the grass? The others will be all like 'Whaaaat?'" she suggested.

"No. No, I will not do that, and nor will I do anything that you ever propose in the future, for you are obviously completely out of your mind," is what I should have answered. Instead I said exactly this:

"That is the best idea that anyone has ever had."

We nodded to each other, stood up and started unrobing, quickly silencing our friends who had been entranced in a deep discussion on whether Majora's Mask was superior to Ocarina of Time or not. (Just as well, it was a dumb conversation any way, everyone knows Majora's Mask is clearly the better game.)

"What are you doing?" asked one of them. Me and Shoulder Devil stayed silent. We just smiled at each other, knowing we were and about to blow their minds. And did we ever...

Having gotten rid of our clothes we took a few steps forward, lay down, and started rolling. It was great. Soft grass, warm dew, the starry sky, all twirling around me as I rolled forth to the enthusiastic encouraging shouts of my friends. I kicked against the soft ground to speed up even more, feeling like I was at the top of the world.

Then I started to run out of grass.

This was disastrous enough, but a few years earlier the particular slope that I was tumbling towards had been dynamited away to give room for a dirt path and a few more houses, changing the smooth face of the cliff into a jagged precipice of sharp pointy rocks.

This fact had completely slipped my mind, but it soon dawned upon me when I realized I was about to run out of cliff as well. My friends' laughter changed into alarmed screams, advising me to "Stop rolling, you crazy idiot!"

I did my best to slow down, but I had picked up an impressive speed, and inertia is a cruel mistress. I tried to grab a hold of the rocky ground, but only managed to scrape off bits of fingers.

For a moment I saw the terrified faces of my screaming friends, then the sky, then the dip, the rock, my friends again,
sky,
certain death,
granite,
friends,
stars,

And then the ground abandoned me.

What followed were the longest four seconds of my life. I tumbled down the dip like a fleshy log, bouncing against the crag and its sharp rocky edges, screaming profanities, leaving pieces of myself behind on the jagged crusts. "This is it," thought I, "this is how I die."

Finally I crashed down on the gravelly path, squealing and gasping for air. I could hear the distant yells of my friends. They were indeed all like 'Whaaaat?'

To be concluded.

This flaming orgy bookended by a graceful bullet dance had been flowing for no more than ten seconds when the Triad fell to one knee, inhaling deeply. Terrence noticed that blood too ran from his nose. Five of the troops slumped to the ground, the little glowing lights in their right eyes going dim. Good, but not enough. Several others, the ones that should well have been writhing in agony from absorbing the full force of the Triad’s inferno, were merely patting themselves off. To the horror of the rest of the survivors, the one who appeared to be the squad leader had Shu Ju by the throat, lifted high above the ground.
“Caught ya,” he smirked, before he tossed him effortlessly in the direction of the tourist, who had cowered on the floor of the mall. The remaining troops readied their rifles. In what seemed like an age, through what appeared to him to be no will of his own, Terrence was in motion. Time stretched out, and every very step forward seemed to be emphasised by the corresponding familiar thud of their terrible weapons. The glowing bolts shot through the air, spread wide and moving incredibly fast, but only to a point. Both arms outstretched, Terrence realised he was able to halt the movement of these projectiles. They hung in the air, each one slowly losing its glow, reforming from some molten element into a solid metal. ”Throw them back” he thought to himself. ”Come on.” More projectiles flew into the invisible field, stopping instantly. No matter how hard he willed it though, he couldn’t return them to their senders.
This distraction proved enough. As the projectiles fell to the floor, the Triad rose to his feet. “Drop!”
Terrence complied, throwing himself over the two downed survivors as a deluge of fire roared over his head, forcing the squad to retreat a few feet back. The window was now open for the others to prove their worth.
Xiao Tou got on his tip-toes; “zai wu miao zhong, tingzhi (in five seconds, stop),” he whispered to the Triad, before bolting off up the side of the atrium. Adrian utilised this time too.
”So, public transport. Well here goes nothing.” he thought, bewildered by his sudden control over his ability, but wary of the pain it was starting to cause. In a flash he jumped to the spot where the three survivors were huddled, taking immense care not to wind up in the middle of a fireball. “This is how it should work in theory, grab a hold!” he yelled, spotting the little street kid from the corner of his eye. Xiao Tou had moved to flank the soldiers, and Adrian knew, as the boy raised his arm, that this was the time to move. If this ability was capable of what he thought it was, then they should be out of the way in time.

The four disappeared in a flash of light right before the petrol tanker came down atop the soldiers. Xiao Tou was already on the move as Adrian yelled over a banister four stories up: “Now!”
The Triad didn’t need the hint. He held both his hands together, channelling his energy into one last, mighty blast.
“Shit shit shit!” Terrence yelled, bolting down the escalator that hung above the atrium, just above the tanker, knowing full well that his skill was required again. He got his hands up just in time, encapsulating the explosion to surround the soldiers, but forcing it away from the rest of the mall.

The smoke cleared and the dust settled as they regrouped, exhausted, but not as much as they expected.
“Giz a light, “Terrence asked the Triad from behind a somewhat dented cigarette. Flick[/f]
“So that, that was something.” The tourist muttered.
“I think, I think that got easier,” Adrian mused, “I mean, my head was [i]pounding when I first got here, when I went after this guy. But in I moved people.”
“I know right,” Terrence chimed in.
“Maybe it’s like a muscle,” Shu Ji suggested, “You know, when you work it, it gets stronger.”
“So I’m Adrian by the way.”
“Hah, Terrence; this is Shu Ji, that’s Xiao Tou…” The handshakes distracted them from the burning hunk of flesh and wires that was crawling towards them, pistol clasped in hand.
They spun around in time to see yet another cyborg, this one in a trench coat, with massive trauma to his face, land gracefully, drawing his own weapon, aimed squarely at the head of the charred husk. A single shot rung out as he turned to look at them.
“G’day, I’m Rick,” he holstered his sidearm. “I’d like to join your little gang.”

After the pleasantries were over with the group, and the new recruits had been properly introduced to the rest of the survivors, it was back to hunter-gatherer mode. Many, particularly those like the tourist, who had yet to exhibit any form strange ability, basically anyone not scratching at their elbows, were visibly uneasy about the man with the robotic arms. Adrian felt a pang of relief, as this took the heat off him. They had all worked together to stop the troopers, but nobody could be blamed for at least being sceptical that this man-thing could be some kind of cybernetic mole. Still, he had given them a lot of information. Ascension. At least they could put a name to the face. And Terrence seemed to trust him, it was apparent to the rest of the group that this was really his nature. Terrence: he trusts. That and Rick had revealed that he was also a New Zealander. “What are the chances?” they had said. ”Convenient” others had thought. Rather than continue uncomfortable conversations about motives, about super powers and transhumanism, they busied themselves with the list. Adrian and Xiao Tou combined their abilities to speed the process immensely, flitting about between floors so that the boy could touch the items that were needed. The plan being that once he’d made contact with all of the items they could all find a way onto the roof and the boy could bring the items to them. When asked how all the action was affecting him, Adrian remarked that the headache was constant, but the more he used his ability, the greater he felt he could push himself. Every second or third time, the strain was too strong, or the distance too great, so Xiao Tou offered to walk, but after a rest, Adrian would appear next to him, ready to take him to the next destination. The others pondered if they were capable of pushing themselves just as much. They followed the process to a T. The Triad indeed provided the fire, and once all was in place, the climbed to the roof a little after dark. Each took turns trying to rotate the Westernmost satellite dish, before Terrence decided to flex his telekinesis. It worked.
“Okay, so, how quickly do we need to get to level five?” asked the food vendor lady, wary of the frigates hovering not too far above them.
“It says ‘immediately.”

The urgency seemed wasted. The mysterious woman was kind enough to put them on the floor with the furniture stores, which they needed, as nothing appeared to happen across the entire night. So they bunked up, and got lost in talking. A real chance to learn about each other, to map out their lives and share their fears. Bonding, in the middle of a war zone. By damn, most of them had managed to fall into at least a shallow sleep.

Several kilometres away, a frigate, carrying 150 troops had finally zeroed in on the distress signal of the entire squad that had been lost the night previously. Times Square. Somewhere on that building. The squad had been sent in rather brashly, without scanning for resistance first. This team would not make that same mistake. Floating almost directly overhead, the sensors moved over the roof of the building. Everything checked out, no signs of life. The operator looked out his porthole at a strange flickering glow coming from the mall’s communications array. That will need closer inspection. It was over in an instant. The beam crossed paths with the dish, supercharging it and reflecting it back at its source.

The group awoke to an incredible explosion as all but the floor above them rolled down into the atrium below.

Commander, please find below the latest reports from the field, in plain English as advised.

5th Battalion, Regiments 1, 3 and 5 - Hong Kong Island: The advance force has captured a foothold on Hong Kong Island. Defenses have been stabilized in:
Admiralty
Wan Chai
Stanley
Victoria Peak
Wan Tsui
Repulse Bay
Chai Wan.
We have also established a foothold at three points on Lantau Island, and have secured Chek Lap Kok International Airport. Alpha Phase Tactical Unit 3A are to desecrate Lantau Island’s Buddha Monument at 1730 hours as ordered.

There remains only one fortification left to secure; unfortunately we lost a unit in Times Square, Causeway Bay. It appears one of our combat platforms, CPL Richard T. Henare - ASC M.11506.EMK, 5th Fleet Battalion, has gone rogue. Platform LCPL Scott E. J. Malcolm – ASC M.15529.DFS, also of 5th Fleet attempted to apprehend the rogue, however Henare’s feed was destroyed in the progress. His whereabouts and status are unknown. Any attempts to recover his beacon have thus far failed, however it is unlikely he would be able to shut it down himself. Units from Wan Chai are currently being diverted to investigate, and LCPL Malcolm has reported to Frigate Undaunted 17G for interrogation and debrief. Interrogation is in process, but recovered audio from CPL Henare’s feed before termination indicates that Squad Leader CPL Thomas F. Townsend ASC O.00955.HLM had been involved in a physical altercation with an unidentified female, to which CPL Henare intervened, resulting in CPL Townsend’s apparent death. A technical error has stalled the process of video retrieval from LCPL Malcolm’s EPL implant, but his testimony and the restored data content should provide further details in the coming hours.
3rd Battalion are moving to retake Causeway Bay as we speak.

Fifth Battalion, 7th Regiment - Kowloon: 7th Regiment have started their assault on Kowloon, but resistance is heavy and our casualties are growing. So far, reported engagements with MT-VS7 users appear to be lower than expected across the campaign, but, as reported previously there seem to be an unusually high concentration in Tsim Sha Tsui. 7th Regiment have sustained the loss of four full squads to two natives who appear to be father and daughter. They are currently entangled in a standoff at the Peninsula Hotel. The father seems to exhibit an alchemistic ability, as units have reported sighting strange manipulations of various materials. The daughter appears to move incredibly fast, which may imply advanced speed, teleportation or time manipulation. Walker Unit 847-L are en-route across Victoria Harbor, but if the pair here hold out against them we may need to look at more severe methods.

Status Readout
Total deployment as at Day Two, 1200hrs
1,280 total Ground Troops
16 Walker Units
7 Capital-Class Battle Cruisers
16 Frigates
A further 8 Capital-Class Cruisers are awaiting confirmation for deployment off the coast of Manila. Intended travel time upon confirmation: 3 hours. Total 1,500 additional troops.

Aside from cases mentioned, we have faced little resistance so far:
Confirmed civilian casualties: 28,667
Confirmed Military and Defense casualties: 3,433
Total Ascension Forces casualties: 47, with two unconfirmed casualties and Grade 3 or higher damages to 188 troops.

We have determined 61 instances of contact with MT-VS7 practitioners.
48 confirmed captured, (40 of which were detained in the hours prior to the invasion transferred to the Overwatch Project.)
6 confirmed kills
7 evaded captivity.
Naturally, these engagements are expected to increase.
Facilities at Overwatch are currently on lock-down due to what I am only told is an anomaly, so any remaining captives are being assessed for malleability or scheduled for execution at respective Defense Barricades.

While the engagement numbers remain low, 46 of the 47 casualties sustained have been at the hands of MT-VS7s. In one instance it is reported a young foreign female eliminated an entire squad single-handedly. Intelligence suggests sheer numbers may be the best solution until Advanced units are ready for deployment, but the humidity is continually interfering with our communications, leading to delays of up to a minute in transmissions, a window of time which presents too great an opportunity for hostiles to pick our units off before help can arrive.

On a brighter note, Beta Phase Advance Class Unit AM12 in Monaco should be ready for deployment in 13 days, totaling 11,035 fully trained and upgraded units. Reports confirm Hong Kong, Kowloon, the New Territories and the Chinese Border are on track to be secured in three days. Project Overshadow will commence immediately following, to hold a state of martial law until Beta Phase arrives, in preparation for Mainland assault. European Research Division has confirmed your request to increase dosage of FF-94 to all Beta Phase units, and to sterilize all male units to ensure dependency. Comm upgrades should allow for swifter transfer of data, which should negate the backup issues we have been facing while encountering MT-VS7s.

Always on the up,
IDT F. M. Davros, Alpha Phase Supervision Unit 327-B

To Kate Quinn
You do not know me but I know you, my name is Wong Li An and our meeting today was not a chance meeting. You have been dosed with an experimental drug known as Empty Vessel. If my plan has gone wrong and you are reading this note, then I am dead and you will know what the effects of Empty Vessel are. You are needed.
In my right trouser pocket you will find a small earpiece. If you put this in your ear it will translate speech from Mandarin to English for you, and your speech to Mandarin. We were aware of your problems in learning the language so this precaution was a necessary one.
You must find Ge Hong, the creator of Empty Vessel. He will help you. You must be brave. And you must run.

I screw up the note and shove it in my pocket. I then look over the dead body in front of me. I didn’t really want to go into the pockets of a dead man, it felt wrong, but I guess I had to. If the guy I was meant to be finding didn’t speak English, it would be much easier using the earpiece than my rubbish Chinese. I quickly slipped my hand into his pocket and grabbed this small metallic earpiece. It looked kind of like a futuristic in-ear headphone. Luckily it wasn’t damaged (or dirty, that would have been nasty), so I stuck it into my right ear.
As I got to my feet and waded my way through the bodies of the cyborgs my mind switched back to the note. What exactly this guy going to help me with exactly? Was he going to get rid of this Empty Vessel stuff from my body, or was it something to do with these cyborgs. I prayed that it wasn’t the later as I stepped out onto the street.
The street was deserted, bar the corpses of the unfortunate people who weren’t quick enough to escape the cyborgs. Luckily there didn’t seem to be any of them around, so I ran across the street and down an alleyway and out of sight. Those triangle ships were still hovering above the streets, so I didn’t want to take the chance of being seen and attacked, especially as I’m not entirely sure how to get back those claws.
I started to walk, starting my search for this Ge Hong, where ever and who-ever he is. As I walked I noticed a large mall off at the end of one of the streets. I smiled to myself. It would be nice to get a new t-shirt, but I have more important things to do at the moment. Anyway, those cyborgs are more likely to search for survivors in places where lots of people congregate. So I kept walking.

A Number Of Hours Later

I’m most definitely lost now. I’ve been walking for I don’t know how many hours and all I’ve managed to do is realize a map would have been a good idea. At least I’ve had something to eat. Luckily the shops are all abandoned. I grabbed myself some food and left the money by the till (it’s not like I’m a thief). The sun set as I sat down for my makeshift meal. I had reached the harbor by now and I had found myself a nice little spot to sit. It’s funny, but here you wouldn’t think there was anything going on at all, it just seems normal. I haven’t seen a single cyborg in hours.
‘Katherine Quinn. You are wanted by Ascension. You will come with us.’
Just my luck. I looked over my shoulder to where the voice had come from and, of course, a whole squad of them, at least a dozen. Me and my big mouth.
‘You will comply or you will be eliminated.’
I could feel the effects of that Empty Vessel stuff starting to happen again. My stomach tightened and my body felt numb, as if I was going to be sick. I looked down at my hands and I was surprised that they still looked normal.
The cyborgs advanced on me, raising their guns. The leader spoke again.
‘You have three seconds to comply or you will be eliminated. This is your final warning.’
As he spoke, sparks started to flicker between my fingers. I smiled to myself. Not exactly what I was expecting, but it’ll do. I stood up and smiled at the cyborgs.
‘Not this time boys.’
I raise my hands and huge arcs of electricity shot from my hands, wrapping themselves around the cyborgs. Grating, metallic shrieks filled the air as the cyborgs twitched and spasmed, their flesh burning and their robotic parts short-circuiting and flashing. Soon they all dropped to the ground, dead, and the electricity faded away.
I breathed a sigh of relief as the effects of Empty Vessel released their grip on my body and I turned back to the sunset.
Then a sharp pain shot across the back of my head and I fell forwards, unconscious.

Some Time Later

When I woke up my head was pounding. I could feel a welt starting to rise on the back of my head. Someone must have hit me with something.
I suddenly realized that I wasn’t in the same place anymore. I was in a building of some kind, possibly on of the warehouses on the harbor, judging by the large crates pilled up the walls. Then I noticed I wasn’t alone. I was surrounded by people, Chinese men, all dressed in black with red gloves on. One, I’d assume the leader, approached me. I shuffled backwards across the floor until my back was pressed against one of the crates. The man kneeled down until he was at eye level with me and he seemed to study me for a minute before he spoke.
‘[I know you can understand what I am saying. I have seen devices such as the one you have in your ear before. So speak. Who are you foreigner, and what is your purpose?]”
I was slightly taken aback. The translator thing worked. I cast around in my mind for an answer, but none presented its self, so I decided to go for the obvious question.
‘[Who are you?]’ I asked, hoping the translator would mean he could understand me.
The man stood up and his compatriots moved forward until I was totally surrounded.
‘[My name is Yi Quantou,]’ he said proudly as he gestured to the other men, ‘[and we are the Crimson Hand.]’

And I had missed most of it apparently. From the time, it appeared that I had been out for three hours. I had been running from the chaos, from the monsters of machine and flesh, and then I was just here at home. I had traversed miles in seconds and once I stepped into this time warp, nothing would ever be the same. Too much was going on at once. Outside the world was being invaded and inside, I can teleport. Yesterday, I was just an Englishman in Hong Kong for business and now I'm in Normandy on D-Day.

Suddenly, there's a booming outside in the hallway. An orange glow pervades through my keyhole. Oh shit! PHHH PHHH PHHH orange orbs cut into my room exploding everywhere. Time seems to slow down as I see one of the orange balls coming for me and then it isn't. It happened again. I was in my apartment, about to become swiss cheese, and now I was in the mall. It was a place I went to feel closer to home. The mall was so western in an eastern land. Among the Cinnabon, Old Navy, and Gap, I felt like I was back at home. That was probably the reason why I showed up here when things got rough.

I stumbled, that now familiar feeling of reassembly making it hard to stand. I made my way to a counter, nearly tripping on the fallen clothesracks and the blood. The stench of death hit all at once. Death was everywhere, bodies of young and old, men and women were everywhere, their blood coating the walls like a new coat of paint. My throat pulled up and I could feel my breakfast coming back up. Then again, I was so disoriented, anything would've caused me to throw up. I regained my grip, my headache intensifying and my nose still pouring. I walked out of the store carefully, avoiding bodies and cautious for those mechanized monsters. As I got out of the store, which appeared to be a Men's Wearhouse, I saw other survivors, scrabbling together random crap like they were some sort of Macgyver. I knew I'd be better off watching them, but people were people and I figured I was better off with company then alone in this fight. So I called out a "Hello".

As soon as Terrence Anders put away his pad and pen, it became apparent that they group wouldn't be leaving quite so soon after all. Squabbles had broken out between this survivor and that, with no clear consensus. Should they stay or should they go? So, thinking this as good a time as any, he decided to light up one last cigarette for the road. If those abominations at the street level, or the threat of a wall of ocean drowning them out weren't going to kill them, second hand smoking probably would. He decided to take his chances. I chill came across his shoulders as he surveyed the room from behind his veil of nicotine. It was getting cold down here. His blood-stained business shirt did little to warm him, physically or mentally. Never the less, he pulled it tighter. He had been trying to make assessments of each of those sharing his experience down here in the blood vessels of Hong Kong city. There was the street urchin who had arrived in the last hour, quite an entrance indeed, he had somehow managed to bring with him a detached arm of one of the soldiers, and his upper torso armour and helmet. How a boy of that size had managed to carry that here, who knows? But, Terrence thought to himself, knowing is half the battle, and if we’re able to analyse what exactly these things are, it could give us an edge. His last smoke had burned to its butt. It was going to be a long night.

The entire night had passed before the decision came for them to move. Terrence had found little sleep, few else did, but he filled this time trying to actually talk to the others in the group. No more sitting in the corner alone, feeling glum. Thinking of the girl he left behind. Time to be social. His effort proved reasonably fruitful. Everyone had something to offer, and everyone seemed to be trustworthy, even the Triad. What’s more, nearly all of the survivors seemed to exhibit some form of special talent, like this was the official Party Trick Convention of 2013. They each dealt with this in their own way. He was still trying to come to terms with his own. Whatever the case, he felt comfortable, considering the circumstances.

No more cigarettes, Terrence habitually twirled his pen between his fingers, as his attention turned that one woman, sitting across from him, who he just couldn't sum up. The one named ‘Gina.’ As if she knew his thoughts, he noticed the mysterious woman was staring right back at him.
“I need your help” she spoke suddenly, with perfect diction and controlled words, like she had been planning for this conversation her whole life. “I am making-a list. Someone here will die, soon, if you don't prevent it. I can't do it alone.”
“A list?” He breathed. “I don’t, I don’t understand?”
As if her very actions were whispers, she removed a small diary from her pocket, along a flashlight, which she then ignited, replacing the blue ballpoint pen in his hand with it. “Please, hold the light for me.”
The Triad spoke next. “Ting, deng yixia. Wo xiang ta bu hao de yisi. (Wait a minute, I don’t think she’s quite all there.)”
Terrence, realising the native Cantonese speaker was probably about as good at mandarin as he was, pieced together a response. “Mei guanxi, wo yao ting yi ting. (Give her a minute, I want to hear what she says.)” He took the light from her hands, doing his best to hold it steady above the paper as she wrote. Minutes passed, and his ‘smokers shake’ made the beam increasingly unsteady. “Who’s going to die?” he asked, wearily.
“Most of us. This has to be done quickly and right.” She tore the page out and passed it quickly to Terrence. “Wait one moment,” she uttered as she pulled a well-worn and cracked digital watch off of her arm, fiddling with the alarm settings. “When this beeps, be on the left side of the tunnel.” She placed it on his wrist. “Please lead us that way, to the Causeway Bay Station.”
“What happens in,” he paused to look at the dimly illuminated LCD display, “17 minutes?”
“And thirty-one seconds.”
He nods. “Yeah.”
“Those of us who are unhurt and alive will be on the left side of the tunnel.”
“Sounds legit.” It didn’t sound legitimate to him at all, but pushing logic aside, somehow he felt like he could trust her, like he needed to trust her. “Okay, but you lead,” he insisted as he raised the little torch to shine the way.

The tunnel-dwellers decided safety in numbers was the way to go. Not without squabbles, a consensus was reached, and they were off on their way. Nobody had taken a proper head count, a task which Terrence reminded himself he should probably get to. The rumbles above reverberated along the walls of the tunnel, bringing dust and usually small debris down with them.

Five minutes had passed when a large blast above the surface brought several large fragments of the ceiling down, blocking their path back. They were lucky, they knew. If they had not have left when they did, they would have been sealed in. The Triad whispered of a Rat colony back in Wan Chai, which no doubt would have been all over them given the commotion. Perhaps this mysterious woman knew what she was on about. Terrence glanced down at the watch. It had been seventeen minutes. Panic struck, how had he forgotten to pay closer attention? A moment before the beep, Gina casually stepped to the left, covering her nose and mouth.
“Get to the left!” Terrence yelled, throwing himself against the damp tunnel wall. A single section of the tunnel ceiling thundered to the ground, centimeters from the group. In all it was less than a quarter ton, containing no other debris except for dust. The woman paused, momentarily before continuing on.
“Rats are coming behind us.” She warned, increasing her pace. The group was dismayed, but followed suit. They each knew that this was not the first indescribable thing to happen since this ordeal began, and likely not the last.
“Well,” Terrence thought, “guess there’s nowhere to go but forward.” He noticed the small urchin boy had not brought the armour with him. A pity, but one to be pondered over later. Terrence sped to a jog to reach the mysterious seer. “Um, Gina, right?”
She nodded.
“How is it you know these things?”
“What things?”
“It’s like you knew that the tunnel would collapse, you knew about the rats, I mean, the Tri..”
“You know the tunnel collapsed,” she interjected, giving him a quizzical look.
“Huh? Well yeah, I mean, it’s happened now.”
“Uh huh.”
Terrence looked back at the group, bemused. The one in the inmates fatigues, Shu Ji was his name, gave him a shrug, before waving at him to keep trying. “But how did you know before it happened?”
“Know what?” She replied whimsically.
“That the tunnel would collapse!”
She suddenly looked alarmed, and spun around to investigate. “The tunnel's going to collapse? It's not time for that yet.”
“No, the tunnel's not going to..” He raised his eyebrows. “Wait, what, you mean it will later?”
She nods, and returns to walking. ”We're behind schedule,” she whispers, increasing her pace.

Before long, they found themselves at Exit A of the Causeway Bay station. Terrence remembered this exit lead to one of the larger, more bustling malls on Hong Kong Island. It was where he’d found himself on his first day here, four years prior. “No time to dwell on the past now,” he thought to himself. As they crept slowly up the unpowered escalator to avoid detection, the horrors of the outside world became a reality.
“Big mall, big morgue,” whispered one of the American tourists. This was not inaccurate. Bodies lined the promenade, littered around in an almost orderly fashion, as if they were being used to spell out macabre messages to the warship hovering miles above. Being temporarily in the open worked as a filter for the group’s perceptions; getting to cover took priority, forcing them to think objectively, and disregard the bloodshed before their eyes. They tried not to notice the innocent casualties which littered the atrium, but in doing so they too did not register the unusual amount of dead soldiers scattered between them.
“We need to stay out of sight,” Shu Ji insisted, directing the followers to dart one by one up the second escalator into the mall itself.
Second to last to make the run, Terrence noticed that the urchin boy was now wearing the helmet, several sizes to big. Strange, how had he not noticed him carrying it?

Any hesitations on entering a closed off mall proved unnecessary. This once bustling shopping metropolis was a ghost town.
Without a word, the mysterious woman lead them upwards to the ninth floor. Without giving a specific reason, as they passed the Giga-sports store she stopped. “We are here.” She turned to gaze at Terrence. “Terrence has a list of my instructions. You must remain here and follow them precisely. Questions rose from the group.
“It is the only way you will survive. I must go, but I will return.”
“Maybe I should come with you, it’s not smart to go out there alone,” Shu Ji suggested.
“If you follow me now, you will die.” And with that, she spun on her heels and disappeared out the door.
Terrence removed the scrap of paper from his pocket. It read:

“Take all 18k gold and all silver from jewellery counter next door. You’ll find more around neck of the dead woman caught in the elevator between the 2nd and 3rd floor.
In the basement food court you will find some vegetable oil.
Next, go to level two and find:
One large aluminium pot
Wax paper
A tablecloth
Several potholders
On level three:
One case of masking tape from office supply
The Tiffany chandelier off ceiling of design store
Ladders, dustpans, hammers, tongs, and other tools can be found in a maintenance closet beside the restrooms on this floor.
Next, you will need to melt the jewellery in the aluminium pot. Don't melt the pot. The Triad will supply the fire.
Lay out the wax paper. Crumble the broken colored glass from chandelier into the molten metal.
Remove clusters of metal-coated glass with the tongs and place on wax paper. About the size of a grape.
The paper and the floor will char, and the pot will scratch. This is okay.
Wave smoke into vents. AC is not working. That is okay.
Make balls of masking tape. Fist-sized. Wait until after dusk.
Go to roof. Point the Westernmost satellite dish due east. Stick tape balls all over surface of the dish. Use tongs and pliers to stick cooled balls of metal and glass to tape balls. Coat the antenna on the dish with vegetable oil.
Go to level 5 immediately upon completion. None must linger on any floor above.”

“Well, who’s keen for a little shopping?” Terrence joked.

From an electronics store a floor above, Rick Henare watched with his one good eye. His one human eye. Dried blood and the ooze of cooled solder coated the right of his face, where the 'aug' used to be, from where they used to see. He should have been in incredible pain, but he’d learned how to tune out, how to suppress. Somalia, yes, that was when he’d realised the pain suppressants were not only for physical anguish. But he no longer needed them, he didn't need anything from Ascension. Not anymore. His new arms and his new legs still seemed to function, and his tracer beacon was safely soaking in the deep fryer at the KFC two blocks away. The stolen trench-coat from Zara a few floors down was merely for the aesthetic. He would be incognito, for now.

Those whom he watched were clearly organised. They could be a threat, perhaps more so than the squads being sent after him. Those that lay jumbled ten floors below. Perhaps an introduction was in order.