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Chapter IX - Gagged and Bound

The entrance to the Grinning Buddha was very nondescript. When one mentioned 'nuclear missile silo', it was easy to imagine a flat concrete shaft that was hidden amongst the plains or mountains without any discerning features whatsoever. From the surface, Buddha was no different. It was almost impossible to make it out compared to the snow-covered, rocky terrain and even from space, one would need some very keen eyes to be able to spot it. The white concrete almost perfectly blended in with the snow that from a distance, it would be easy to mistake it for just another patch of ice. Upon closer inspection, however, there were a few oddities that clearly made it apparent that this was no ordinary mark of snowfall.

The terrain immediately around the silo was completely flattened by at least about 50 feet in either direction. Compared to the slopes of the Himalayas, it stuck out rather obviously. Similarly, there was no trace of snow anywhere near the plateau. Just stepping onto the rocky hill, Caleb was immediately hit by a wave of warmth. The heat came from vents placed artfully against the mountainside, constantly spinning to prevent freezing over and spewing heat without any steam. The smaller concrete platforms dotting the flattened area may have deceived the average onlooker but when one got within fifty feet of them, it was clear that they were some form of man made instillation.

A single entrance was available and it came from a closed shaft. No guards were posted, no automated turrets and there weren't even any cameras that he could see. There was no doubt this was some sort of nuclear missile silo - he could clearly see the huge cylindrical passage at the far end of the plateau where the missile was stored - but Caleb had to wonder if this was the Gimp's lair.

Elliot shared the same doubts. "Are we in the right place? I mean, clearly this is Grinning Buddha_, but the lack of security makes me feel... like..."_

"We're walking into a trap," Samson finished. "Typical villain tactic. The false sense of security puts the heroes on edge. It could work in two ways. Either they're prepared for the trap or they make mistakes because they anticipate too much. Being in a constant state of heightened alert is exhausting."

Jacob strode easily up to the entrance, seizing the handle with one paw. "Then let's get a move on and hurry it up. No sense in us getting wound up and our friends are waiting." He yanked the lid open and immediately began climbing down the ladder into the bunker.

This was certainly old technology. Superweapon bases these days didn't bother with the whole 'secret underground base' and neither did supervillains. With so many supers out there and even some governments capable of manipulating the terrain, it would be easy to trigger an earthquake or landslide that could bury subterranean bases. Back in history class, Caleb's teacher would theorise about how supervillains would try to go for underground bases only for a superhero to enter said base from anywhere _except_the front entrance. Such bases rarely had any ability to scan and monitor the earth in their surroundings which made them all the more vulnerable.

That led to the question of why the Gimp would choose such an outdated hideout.

The answer had to be the dormant missile.

"There's no risk of us... you know... getting radiation sickness from being close to a nuke, is there?" he asked, being the second one down the shaft. He had to slip the blade if Branding Iron into the straps that hooked the shield of the weapon against his arm so that it would not fall.

"I'm sure Elliot would've started screaming at us if there were some rogue ions running around," Jacob replied. "His suit is fully capable of monitoring radiation."

"Wouldn't it be within the Gimp's MO to trick us into thinking this is his base only to give us cancer because he caused a leak in the nuke and watch us slowly die of cancer?"

"Modern medicine has been more than capable of dealing with cancer. You don't need to worry about that. As for him tricking us, it's a possibility..." Jacob hit the bottom floor and waited for the rest of the team to follow. "... I don't think he'd be that cliche. If anything, I suspect the Gimp to do something like turn Arsenal into rhinos and then pitch them against us in some sort of warped battle royale while the walls closed in around us or something. Probably apply anti-super fields as well so we couldn't actually use any of our powers while he dropped all sorts of weapons or crafting materials around us. Would be exceptionally cruel given that we won't have total control over what we use to defend ourselves with and there's a high chance one of our makeshift weapons would inflict fatal damage. Nothing worse than killing your loved one accidentally."

Caleb stared at his best friend with a wince. "Dude... Don't give him ideas."

Reaper grinned broadly. "Either that's exactly what he's planned or he's now kicking himself because he's thinking that's _exactly_what he should've done. Either way, I'm sure he's watching right now, doing a spit-take while eating a banana."

"A banana...?"

There was a loud bang as Elliot came crashing down from the surface. The power armour was too bulky for the orca to use the stairs so he merely jumped down.

"I love this suit!"

Ignoring their resident super genius, Caleb and the rest of Assault moved forward into the darkness and -

FWASH!

Were suddenly hit by a huge array of gaudy lights. What appeared to be an scene taken right out of a disco movie unfolded in front of them with square panels about thirty feet wide. Each panel was flashing different colours like a rainbow that was currently having a seizure. Spotlights, one for each colour of the rainbow, was angled directly at each member of _Assault._Blinking light bulbs, all of differing colours, were placed around the frames of several large, stylised doors that flanked the large platform; fourteen in total with seven on each side. An enormous screen - naturally ringed with more flashing lights - hovered at the far end of the chamber with an enormous, white door placed at the very end marked with the word 'Winner'.

"Oh Lord..." Jacob sighed, running a paw down his face.

"What's wrong?" Caleb asked. He glanced towards the blinding spray of lights. "Apart from the fact that it looks like we just walked into the place where a multi-coloured unicorn with explosive diarrhoea committed ritual suicide while erupting from both ends."

Reaper gave him the same look he had thrown the display. "... It's a game show. It's Gamemaster Gimp."

"That's exactly right, Reaper!" came the thunderous boom from the Gimp. In a deep, sinister laugh, he added, "Welcome to my Game Show!"

The enormous screen sprang to life. The Gimp's broad, horned features were revealed clutching what appeared to be a microphone. Oddly enough, he seemed to be dressed in a two-piece suit only this one was made out of leather and he didn't wear a shirt beneath the jacket. No doubt he didn't wear anything beneath the pants either. Caleb ignored the abrupt change in attire as his attention was focused on what was behind the Gimp. Mounted on large X-shaped tables, wrists, ankles and torsos bound by tough strips of black leather, were the members of Arsenal. They looked beaten and tortured. Though there didn't seem to be any outward damage, their heads were slumped forward, their eyes sunken and for those with fur - their coats matted with sweat and other bodily fluids. They were all deprived of their clothing; instead forced to wear humiliating leather underwear.

"What the fuck have you done to them, you monster!?" Caleb shouted.

Leon rested a paw on his shoulder and pulled him back a little. "Caleb, bro, calm down and lay off the tired cliches." He hiked a thumb in the direction of the enormous monitor. "We knew the Gimp was a kinky bastard and a master of pain. He's going to make us squirm. Don't give him the satisfaction or he'll win."

The soft whimper from the screen, likely coming from Lars, had Caleb shaking in fury. However, lessons learned from Tibia rang in his mind. The Gimp was likely relying on them to become infuriated as their loved ones were tortured and tormented while they were forced to play some sort of sick game for the supervillain's pleasure. The coloured panels were likely trapped or held some bizarre trial for each of them and the Gimp was counting on them losing their cool to fall into it. He could not fall into that trap.

"You're right..." he whispered. "Of course you're right." He straightened and stared defiantly at the grinning features of the rhino in front of them. "Whatever you're planning, it won't work!"

A dark chuckle came from the leather-clad villain. "Is that so? Then how about I explain the rules?" He lifted a finger in warning. "And before you say or do anything..."

There was a suddenly, terrible sensation of someone catching his heart in a vice-like grip. It was the sensation of anti-super fields at work; powerful ones too. Almost everyone showed visible signs of being impacted by the field with the sole exception being Elliot who was still firmly encased in his power armour. At the same time, fourteen of the what Caleb liked to call the 'Bondsmen' emerged from the fourteen 'doors' flanking the game floor. Each of them showed the same variations that the boneheads did back in Tibia's island; expertly trained and having crafted their leather-manipulation abilities to their own styles.

"You'll notice that your powers have now been restrained. I will admit, Reaper, that I am unable to counter your ability to summon weapons but that is naturally the reason why I have arranged for this Game Show."

Jacob tilted his head to the side, eyes darting from one side of the arena to the other. "Let me guess. You're giving us a 'fighting chance'. Either we fight your goons_without_ our powers or we participate in your game and actually have a chance to make it to the end without having to fight whatsoever."

"Astute as ever! The onus is entirely on you! Are you willing to risk your companions and the rest of Assault_for expediency? Can you protect them_ all_?"_

Caleb's paws tightened into fists. This was a trap designed entirely around Jacob's ability to bypass the anti-super fields with his weapons. Probably a lesson the Gimp had learned from their previous encounter. His eyes fell to Jacob's paws. His friend was clutching the grip of Mugen Kosetsu tightly. If he wanted, he could unleash the stored power of the icy blade here and now. The Gimp's henchmen would be annihilated in a raging blizzard powerful enough to bring on the next ice age and the Game Show would be entirely bypassed. The problem was, Jacob wouldn't have that trump card for anything else later on and there was no guarantee something far more sinister didn't lay in store.

"So what will it be, Reaper?" taunted the Gimp. "Play the game or risk your team?"

Samson stepped forward. "Don't let him get the upper hand. It's a common villain's tactic. Make the situation seem desperate and put what you care about at risk and force you into thinking that you have no choice. There is always a choice."

"Oh, and I forgot to mention..."

There was a suddenly, loud buzzing noise. Bolts of bright, purple lightning came shooting out from somewhere off screen and struck the restrained members or Arsenal. They all screamed, writhing in agony as they were tortured. Caleb's heart broke and he immediately took a step forward. Leon seized him before he could land a foot on the platforms.

"Bastard!" David shouted.

"I hold all the card on this one," laughed the villain. "What's it going to be?"

"We fight!" Samson declared, holding up a fist. "The Gimp is a creature of pain! He would never let his captive die. Those very same captives are supers or at least have super-level regeneration! They're also strong! I have faith that they can last the few minutes before we tear through the Gimp's defences and get to them!"

"Not all of them are ancient werewolves like you, though," Lance countered. "Maybe Ben has the brains and heart to withstand that kind of torture but what about Lars? Mary? What about Madman? You can't repair mental damage."

Samson hesitated.

"Then it's settled," Jacob sighed, releasing the handle of Kosetsu. "We play." He lifted his gaze at the Gimp. "What're the rules."

Their deranged host grinned wanly. "Simple. You must pick six players. One for each member of Arsenal_. Take up position on any of the first squares closest to you on the grid. You must answer a question about that member correctly. Do so and you will be allowed to move two squares in any direction of your choosing. Answer wrong... and_ this happens."

There was another buzz. More lightning snapped out from the shadows and struck Arsenal. Caleb gnashed his fangs together so hard he was sure they would break.

"After each of you have your turn, my men will have their move. They will only be allowed to move a single step, however. Get to the end and you win. My men will do nothing to stop you from proceeding to the next room. But, should my men encounter you..." The Gimp's grin took on a sinister edge. "Well, then you will have to do your best to fight them off without your powers, won't you?"

Caleb glanced across the field. It was roughly the size of a football field. With each 'square' being about ten yards wide, that meant that he had to answer 18 questions correctly to get to the other end since correct answers allowed him to move two squares forward. However, the field was longer than it was wide by about half. That meant there was only 16 squares across. Six of them had to stand side by side across the the start meaning that six of those ten squares would be occupied. The henchmen would be starting on the outer edges of the grid as well meaning that, in theory, they only had about eight rounds before the henchmen would encounter one of them.

"That's bullshit!" Elliot shouted. "We can't win! Your henchmen, at most, have to just keep moving straight and in five rounds they'll encounter one of us!"

Caleb blinked in surprise. "Five? Wouldn't it be eight? You know, because there's six of us, two sets of them and it's sixteen squares across..."

Elliot placed his hands on his hips, the armour grinding in response. "Muscles, leave the math to me. It's 16 squares across. The henchmen will occupy the left most and right most squares. Meaning we've only really got fourteen squares to work with.

"Right. I got that. So that means if we have the six of us, fourteen minus six equals eight."

"Idiot," Elliot sighed, shaking his head."We would want to position ourselves as far away from the henchmen as possible so putting us in the middle six squares. Yes, that would mean there are eight squares left but that would be have to be divided on either side_. So eight divided by two is_ what_, Muscles?"_

Caleb's ears folded back in embarrassment. "Oh... uh... four."

"Exactly. And assuming that the encounter between us and them would only trigger not when they're next to us but when they are on top of us_, four plus one is...?"_

"Five..." he rumbled reluctantly.

"Give the pup a Nobel Prize!"

Lance nudged the orca roughly. "Your sarcasm isn't helping, Brainiac. Move on."

"Fine, fine." Elliot turned back to face the Gimp. "Like I said, we've got a bum deal. There are 36 squares between us and the exit. Given that we can move two squares, that means we'd have to answer 18 questions correctly to get to the finish. No matter what we do, we'd still have to fight!"

The Gimp chuckled darkly. "You didn't think I'd make it easy for you, did you?"

Jacob suddenly strode forward, standing on one of the platforms about five squares away from the edge. That very same panel flashed and glowed blue. "Elliot, you're not counting diagonal movements. The Gimp said we can move ourselves two squares in any direction we want. So in theory, even if we start in a horizontal like, we can start moving ourselves in a vertical single line and start progressing that way. That will put at six spaces between us and the henchmen, buying us some time. Remember, they'll also have to position themselves along those 32 squares so there's plenty of space between us and them. We just need to watch ourselves. Worst case, those who can fight without the need of powers stay on the outer edges. We'll need at least two interceptors; people who will go _directly_for the henchmen."

Caleb jerked back in surprise. This was a different tactic than what he had planned.

"You can't be serious," the Gimp chuckled. "You'd willingly throw yourself against my henchmen who have full access to their powers?"

"You said it yourself, Whip," Jacob answered. "You couldn't account for my ability to summon weapons. That means even if I don't have my baseline powers or my inability to feel pain, I am still armed." A dark smile touched his muzzle as he slung Mugen Kosetsu over his shoulder. "I don't know what's worse. You trapping us in this Game Show and forcing us to obey your rules or you being stupid enough to trap your henchmen with me."

Wilhelm Whip was unperturbed. "Your confidence will be your undoing."

Samson suddenly stepped forward and placed himself above five squares away from Jacob. "Those anti-super fields are strong but I'm not just a super. I'm a werewolf too and I'm still strong enough to hold my own. I'll be the other interceptor."

"Everyone else position themselves between us," Jacob commanded. Caleb stormed forward and placed himself right beside Jacob. David was to his right followed by Lance and then Leon. "Elliot, you stay behind."

The orca balked. "What? Why me?"

"Because there's nothing stopping anyone from shouting out answers."

Everyone in Assault gave Jacob a stunned look and then they realised that there really was no sound-proofing on the field. Which meant that they were not only free to coordinate their moves but also shout out answers at their discretion! It was brilliant!

"Oh my," chuckled the Gimp. "You are absolutely right. We must do something about that."

Suddenly, six other Bondsmen came charging out of the shadows. Walls of leather stripped away between the few parts of the arena not covered in lights and immediately went charging towards Elliot, brandishing leather-themed weapons.

"Holy shit!" Elliot cried, immediately panicking. "Guys! They're coming after me!"

Sharpened bits of leather came shooting at the orca and immediately began bouncing off his kinetic barrier.

"Another reason why I chose you," Jacob said, eyes narrowing in concentration. His right paw gripped the handle of his blade, ready to draw it at a moment's notice. "Even if your barrier goes down, it's only leather. No matter how hard they hit, your power armour should be able to withstand it. Just try and stay alive!" Reaper pointed a finger from his free paw at the Gimp. "Now come on, Whip! Start the damn game!"

The Gimp threw his head back and laughed. "Very well! Since you're so enthusiastic..." He threw his hands back wide. "...let the games begin!"

The lights around them flashed and danced. Trumpeting sounds blared all around them, announcing the start of the dark game.

"First questions naturally goes to the star of the show," the Gimp began. "You will be answering questions about Rhiannon, the Hound of Destruction, Reaper." The Gimp held up a little card. "So tell me. What is Rhiannon's favourite colour?"

Caleb stared at their torturer in surprise. "Wait... seriously?"

Jacob tapped his chin. Then he broke into a grin. "Blue... no yellow!" He immediately held up a paw. "Sorry, that's not my final answer. I just wanted to make that reference in a world where it's relevant." He crossed his arms, one ear folded back. "Red. Rhiannon's favourite colour is red."

There was a loud series of dings.

"Correct!" announced the Gimp. "Move on two spaces."

The black-furred wolf took two diagonal steps forward, moving towards the henchmen on an intercept course. The Bondsmen were scattered across the board but even with their distance, Caleb could see that they were visibly a little nervous at the approach of Legion. Jacob had lowered his grip from Mugen Kosetsu as he walked but the moment he came to a stop, he reached for the weapon again, prepared to draw it at a moment's notice.

"Next up, Weapons Master."

He snapped forward, ready for his question.

"You will naturally be answering questions on your boyfriend, Flare Blue."_The Gimp grinned. _"What is Lars Mcleod's favourite colour?"

That was easy. Flare Blue. It was a no-brainer. "Blue," he answered firmly.

A loud buzz caused his fur to stand on end. "Wrong! His favourite colour is actually green." The Gimp grinned down at Caleb darkly. "Because it's the colour of your eyes."

He wasn't sure whether to blush in embarrassment or wait in terror as electricity struck Lars and caused him to cry out in agony.

"Caleeeeeeeeb!" screamed the doberman.

"Fuck!" Caleb roared. "Hang on, babe! I'm coming!"

"That's what he said," taunted the Gimp.

"Focus, Muscles!" shouted Elliot from behind. The sounds of battle were intensifying as the six remaining henchmen had closed in on Elliot. They were throwing leather straps at him, seemingly trying to bind him down instead of actually damaging him.

Next was David.

"David Hale," began the Gimp. "You shall be answering questions about Mary Brightwood. As per the other players. What is her favourite colour?"

David visibly drew a blank. "Uh... Pink?"

Another loud buzz and four stares were thrown in his direction.

"What?" answered the soon-to-be-werewolf helplessly. "She's a girl. I thought pink was every girl's favourite colour."

"Never thought you'd be a misogynist dad," rumbled Leon.

Mary, to her credit, did not scream even as she alone was tortured for David's incorrect answer.

"Next up, Lance Hale. You will be answering questions about Lewis Sanchez, AKA Madman."

Just the look on Lance's features signalled that he had no clue what Madman's favourite colour was. The two barely - if ever - interacted with one another! Caleb realised this was as much psychological torture for them as it was for the captives.

"What is Madman's favourite colour?"

Lance just shook his head. "I... really don't know..."

"Just guess!" Leon pressed. "Elliot can't hold his own forever." He began snapping his fingers. "Just answer the questions. Over and over again. The worst part about torture is not the pain but not knowing when the pain will stop. Every time you have a moment of peace, it gives you hope and when that hope is shattered by pain again, it gets worse. So just keep answering questions. I know it's terrible to watch them get hurt over and over again but if we keep it at a constant stream of pain, it won't be as effective."

David stared at his son in surprise. "Where the hell did you learn that!?"

"Interrogation techniques as part of my detective classes," answered Leon. "It's why you give the people you're interrogating time to think alone. The more time someone is left alone with their thoughts, the more room they have to doubt themselves." He lifted his muzzle at the monitor. "Just hang in there, guys. This'll hurt but we're coming!"

As much as Caleb hated to admit it, he saw the logic in that. This was not like in workouts where the pain would go away after a bit of rest. They had to push forward. No matter how much it hurt their loved one.

"Brown!" Lance said, shrugging helplessly. "His favourite colour is brown!"

A loud buzzing noise.

"Blue. Actually," the Gimp answered, seemingly drawing out the reply.

Madman howled in agony as the spotlight was trained on Leon.

"Leon Hale. Your candidate is..."

"Black!" Leon shouted immediately. "I don't care who the fuck it is. Their favourite colour is black!"

The series of dings came as a surprise. A frown crossed their dark host's features as he stared down at Leon. "I was going to say you were going to answer questions on Bren. How lucky for you that his favourite colour actually is black. Comes from being a spy and preferring the shadows."

Leon dashed two steps diagonally towards the centre.

"That leaves me to answer questions for Ben," Samson said, firmly. "His favourite colour is burgundy."

The Gimp didn't even bother to reply and let the _dings_answer for him. Samson stormed forward towards the henchmen on the right.

"Moving on," said Whip. "Men! Move forward!"

The henchmen on the grid moved, closing the gap like a pair of rumbling walls made out of muscles and rhinos.

"Reaper, how old is Rhiannon?"

Caleb began planning his answer.

"Should I really be revealing the age of a lady?" Jacob taunted. "Now that's just on another level of torture. She's only 725 years old."

"Correct."

How could Jake possibly know that? Even Caleb didn't know that.

Again, Jacob stormed forward, moving diagonally towards the edge and now on the same row as the henchmen. The Bondsmen were eyeing him warily with only about two more squares separating him and the closest one. Just to taunt him, Jacob blew the leather-clad man a kiss.

"Weapons Master -"

"Eighteen," he answered immediately. "Lars is eighteen. Turning nineteen this year."

Ding-ding-ding!

Caleb stormed the two steps he was allowed. Leon was already positioned where he would be were he to move two steps diagonally so all he could do was move directly two steps forward.

"Feral Steel?" the Gimp asked tauntingly. "How old is Mary Brightwood?"

"Same. Eighteen. Turning nineteen this year."

Another successful answer and David was allowed to move forward two steps. The problem was, both Caleb and Leon blocked the steps ahead of him. All he could do was move one step forward and then square to the right. This was far more complicated than it first seemed. If they couldn't answer all the questions correctly, they would be scattered all over the field.

"Feral Fang. How old do you think Madman is?"

Lance shrugged helplessly. "Uh... Twenty-five?"

Buzz... followed by Madman's cry.

"Actually, he's thirty-eight."

"I really wouldn't have guessed given how horny he is," muttered Lance with a helpless shrug.

"And now, Samson Connors. Your son's age?"

Samson was facing the nearest henchmen to him and gave the Gimp a sidelong glance. "A hundred and fifty-nine."

Ding-ding.

Just like Jacob, the head of the Alpha Pack moved forward and placed himself in the same column as the rest of the henchmen but he didn't taunt them with a kiss. Instead, he bent low into a crouch as if he was preparing to pounce.

Next, the henchmen moved. Most of them moved towards the central column but the ones closes to Jacob and Samson moved to intercept, just one square standing between them and their prey.

Caleb glanced over his shoulder. "How're holding up, Elliot?"

"Not too bad, actually."

Behind him was a scene right out of a cartoon. Two of the Bondsmen had lashed Elliot's arms with long strips of leather. However, Elliot's power armour was far stronger than even their Gen 4-strength allowed and wasn't really bound by anatomy. Flames erupted from the base of Elliot's feet and he launched quickly into the air. Both rhinos were dragged along the ground before comically slamming into one another. The armoured orca then came crashing back down, slamming his fiery feet right into the rhino's chests.

Caleb wasn't sure who he should pity more, the men fighting Elliot or the poor guy that was about to get slammed by Jacob.

The series of_dings_ told him that Jacob had answered a question correctly but he had been so distracted by Elliot he had missed the question. To his surprise, Jacob moved one square forward - placing him directly in front of the rhino. The Bondsman was preparing himself to attack. Only... Jacob suddenly started moving to his right away from the man. They were still adjacent but the man they weren't on top of one another which would trigger a fight.

"What happened to being an 'interceptor'!?" bellowed David.

Samson laughed heartily as an answer. "That's brilliant Reaper!" He turned to Feral Steel. "David, look where he is now."

It took Caleb a second to register it but he saw it. Jacob may not have intercepted that one henchman but he was also one step closer to intercepting the other Bondsman that would be making for the rest of the team. Had he just gone straight ahead, he would've had to spend one move playing catch up to the other six that were still targeting the rest of the team. Now, he had put that one rhino in an uncomfortable position; try to intercept Jacob - which he would surely lose - or try to go after the rest of the team which would provoke Jacob to attack. Either way, the onus was now on the rhino while Jake got closer to the goal and intercepting the next Bondsman

"You're certainly taking this very seriously, Reaper," said the Gimp. "I wonder. Have we seen the true face of Legion? Has something occurred that has bothered him?"

Jacob sighed and crossed his arms behind his head. "Trust me, Whip, you do not want to go down this path. Just stick to your overly extravagant death game and don't push your luck. If you do, I might just start pulling out the big guns."

The manic, leather fetishist laughed haughtily. "By all means, Reaper. Do you worst! I just means that I, of all the others, have gotten under your skin!"

Caleb watched as Jacob merely shrugged and lowered his arms. "Oh that's very true, Wilhelm. And you know what they say about beauty." Jacob's eyes narrowed. "It's only skin deep. You really don't want to get any deeper or you might just see the ugly."

The Gimp threw his head back and let out a triumphant laugh. "Threaten all you want, Reaper. It only empowers me."

"Take it as you will." Jacob unslung his blade from over his shoulder and stabbed the blunted edge into illuminated glass beneath him. "But you know what they say about staring into the abyss, Whip. You try to get into my head and I can get into yours."

The Gimp rolled his eyes. "Suit yourself. Weapons Master. What is Flare Blue's favourite food?"

Caleb searched his thoughts and feelings. He and Lars had eaten so many things in one another's company since they had become best friends and then eventually boyfriends but was there anything that Lars has specifically called his 'favourite' food? Only a blank met his scrambling mind and he realised that he knew so little about Lars. This was _basic_boyfriend stuff and yet he didn't even know Lars' favourite colour or favourite food!

"Uhm... Pizza?" he offered, remembering just how many takeaway pizza boxes he had seen in Lars' place last time he had been there.

Ding-ding-ding!

"Correct."

With a sigh of relief, Caleb moved forward two squares, putting him directly beside Leon.

"Keep up the pace," Leon insisted. "Don't stop! Don't slow down!"

David was asked what Mary's favourite food was. His answer was salad. Unfortunately, the answer was Fillet Mignon. Mary kept her screams in check and just stared daggers at the Gimp's back. Caleb was in awe at her strength and endurance. Everyone else in the team screamed but she was able to hold her tongue and deny the Gimp any sort of pleasure from seeing her squirm.

"Hang on, Mary," he whispered to himself. "We're coming for you."

"Leon Hale," boomed the Gimp. "What is Bren's favourite food?"

Leon's brow furrowed for a second, contrary to his own orders. "Trick question. He doesn't have one. He's a spy. It'd be stupid for him to have a 'favourite food' because that'd be a weakness."

The Gimp cocked an eyebrow ins surprise. "Is that your final answer?"

"Yes, goddamnit! Just tell me if I'm right or wrong."

The dark, leather-themed rhino lowered the card he was holding slightly. "You are correct."

Leon marched forward another two squares.

"How'd you know that?" Caleb asked.

His big brother gave him a lopsided smile. "Part of being a detective is profiling the people you're investigating. No offence to you guys, but I've got a decent idea on what makes Arsenal tick. Just wasn't sure if it's right or not." He nodded towards Samson. "For example, I bet Ben's favourite food is steak. Really rare. Maybe something fancy on top? Like... I dunno... Truffle butter?"

Samson placed a paw on his hip, a smile on his face. "Actually, it's a red wine sauce that's so sticky that it's almost like a syrup. Ben likes to think it's 'flavourful blood'." He glanced towards the Gimp with a smile. "I assume I can move forward?"

"As you wish," rumbled the Gimp grumpily.

The alpha werewolf strode forward, standing just adjacent to the nearest henchman to him. He moved towards the edge of his square, ready to take up position just like Jacob. Then, he abruptly whirled around and launched himself at the Bondsman. Caught unawares, the rhino barely had time to react. Even with the anti-super fields, Samson was incredibly fast and strong and he collided with the leather-clad rhino. The impact let out a sound like two huge trucks slamming into one another. Samson was on top of the rhino. Black strips of leather were rising around them like ominous tentacles rising from the ground. He seized the male's horn and pulled back, forcing the Bondsman's head to rise slightly. Then, he gave it a powerful push, slamming the back of the man's head against the hard ground. The reinforced glass beneath them cracked from the impact and the leather stopped abruptly just inches from spearing the werewolf king.

Samson pulled the horn back again.

BAM!

Caleb flinched at the sound of the glass cracking all the more.

There was no mercy in Samson's eyes.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

Those tentacles suddenly went limp and so did the Bondsman.

The Gimp chuckled softly. "And now we are reminded of the true nature of the one known as Alpha Drive. You are a villain, just like me, Samson Connors."

"No," growled the werewolf, rising to his feet. "I am a father_doing anything to save his _son." He gave the Bondsman one more swift kick to the head before sitting down heavily on the man's chest. His eyes were angled directly at the remaining henchmen. "Make your move, you bastards. I'm coming for you."

The bond between the members of the Alpha Pack was stronger than just some lupine pack mentality. Though they came from different backgrounds, they truly cared for one another. Remembering Samson's background, it was evident that the werewolf king had truly found some familial bond with the Pack especially since he had lost his initial family. Caleb had to wonder if the rest of the Pack had similar heartbreak.

"It's my move."

Jacob turned in place, facing the Bondsman that was adjacent to him. The rhinoceros crouched low, arms stretched out to his sides and ready to attack. Black strips of leather wrapped around his forearms and curled into spikes around his knuckles. With a tremendous roar, the man charged forward, angling straight towards the blonde-haired wolf. Caleb grit his fangs together in fear and braced himself. Jacob had kept Mugen Kosetsu in that scabbard overnight. If he drew that blade, the ice that would erupt from it would be devastating.

The Bondsman stepped onto the same square as Reaper and a grin crossed the wolf's features.

"You just activated my trap card."

An enormous wall of ice erupted from right beneath him. The rhino was completely caught off guard and immediately encased in diamond-hard ice. The bluish crystal wrapped around the bulky, leather-clad man like a tomb, permanently freezing his stunned expression mere moment after he was lifted off the ground. His eyes were still moving, indicating that he was completely able to think and was conscious but just could not move.

"What the hell!?" Elliot exclaimed. "Where'd that come from, Reaper? You didn't draw your blade!"

Jacob glanced towards the orca who was fighting another two of the Bondsmen, keeping them at bay with his heavy stasis gun. "But I did. Remember when I did this?" He swung the blade over his shoulder again, gripping the handle of the weapon. "I drew the blade by the smallest of fractions. Enough to almost not be seen and to go unnoticed. I've been doing it every square I've moved, in fact."

The game just took on an entirely new dimension. Every square Jacob had crossed was now littered with an icy trap; one that could easily freeze any Bondsman that crossed them. Now his movements made even more sense. Jacob was creating a _barrier_between himself and the rest of the team!

"That's cheating!" bellowed the Gimp.

Reaper gave the Gimp a pout, thrusting his lower lip out and lifting his eyebrows slightly. "Awww, am I getting under your skin?" His features turned into a sinister grin. "Now why don't you ask me a question? Why don't we show your goons just how little you care about them? Like I said before, you haven't trapped us with them. You've trapped them with me. And you know that I'm going to get every single answer right. This is just an effort to stall for time and your rhinos are just the cannon fodder."

Caleb glanced at the rhino currently encased in ice and could not help but feel a bit of pity against the man. The Gimp enjoyed inflicting pain and it was clear that he was trying to pull some psychological tricks upon Assault, trying to break them before they even got to the final battle. Interestingly a far flung contrast from how Tibia had approached their battle. Tibia's men were _clearly_trying to stop them. This game hindered the Bondsmen as much as they did the heroes.

"Wait a second..." he whispered. There was something... off about how the rhino remained trapped in ice and was unmoving. It took him a second to register it... then...

"Hey Jake..." he began. "Does your ice stop superpowers from working?"

Jacob glanced over his shoulder, a little surprised at the question. "No. Why?"

Caleb's eyes widened. "Holy shit... they don't have their baseline powers!" He got a few confused stared. "Guys! Their baseline powers are nullified just like ours! Or... I mean, yours since I'm still just an Outsider." He pointed at the rhino in ice. "Any super would at least be able to crack_the ice but that guy can't! That's because the anti-super fields affecting us are affecting _them too! They can summon leather but they're only as fast and strong as their bodies would be normally!"

Lance clapped two of his paws together. "Of course! That's why that rhino went down so easily against Samson! Being a werewolf, he's got even more power than the average super! The rhino didn't have that!"

The Gimp's little game was slowly starting to crumble. Holes were being revealed and suddenly, they had an advantage.

"And you know what?" Leon said with a grin. He lifted his sniper rifle, aiming at one of the henchmen. "The rules say they can't move from their square until it's their turn. We can't either but nothing says we can't shoot them from our squares." He pulled the trigger and a crackling bolt of blue energies lashed out from his rifle's long muzzle. The closest Bondsman ducked, barely avoiding the shot but a cry from behind him made the man spin. The rhino a few squares back had been hit instead; wrapped in a shimmering blue halo of light and paralysed. That moment of distraction was enough for Leon to get off another shot, disabling the fourth of the fourteen Bondsmen still in the game.

"You realise, of course," the Gimp growled. "Nothing is stopping my men from firing at you either."

"But how accurate will they be?" Leon countered. "Every square is at least ten yards wide. I don't see any of them with sniper rifles and since Samson and Jake just took out the two closest ones, your guys would need to have really good eyesight to snipe us from this distance. Since their baseline powers are disabled as well, I can only assume..." He levelled his gun again. "... that they can't." He pulled the trigger again and though the shot missed, the effect on the Bondsmen was evident; they were all shaken.

On the monitor, the Gimp scoffed. "I must say, I am rather impressed. Seeing as this game obviously will no longer hold merit, I shall declare this a draw." His features split into a dark, devilish grin. "So now why don't we move into the lightning round_?"_

Caleb's heart suddenly sank. Electricity crackled ominously behind the members of Arsenal trapped on screen.

"Defeat the remaining members of Alpha Team and you may pass. All the while, I will keep electrocuting your loved ones. Only once every last one is defeated will I stop."

As if Caleb had been struck by lightning, he gripped the crystal blade of Branding Iron and immediately lifted the shield. Though he still could not use the powers of the weapon, he at least had some form or armament against the Bondsmen. The screams of Arsenal was the green light the henchmen needed to break way from their restricted movements and charge straight at the members of Assault. As tempted as he was to charge straight at them, Caleb took stock of the field and remembered that he still had enemies behind him as well.

"Lance, go give Elliot a hand!" he ordered. Elliot was purely a defencive asset while Lance was perfect when it came to taking the fight to the Bondsmen. "Leon, back off and snipe them from a range. Dad, Samson, you're with me! We protect Leon! Jake, you're on attack!"

Whether or not it was because he made the most sense or because he was the only one shouting orders, Assault immediately moved as he had commended. Alongside his father and Samson, Caleb made a wall of bodies right in front of Leon who immediately began sniping the approaching henchmen. It was evident that with about a quarter of a football field between them and the closest henchman, this was the smartest move. Leon was able to pick off or at least slow down the Bondsmen as they were forced to approach Assault. Jacob rushed into the battle field, pulling Mugen Kosetsu from over his shoulder and holding it firmly so as not to accidentally draw the blade. Behind them, Lance charged at the four remaining rhinos still engaging Elliot.

All the while, the Gimp laughed to the terrible choir of Arsenal's cries. "You see? Even were you to be clever and try to circumvent my rules, you will all still bring pain and suffering to those around you!"

Was this all planned? Did the Gimp purposefully put those holes in his sick Game Show just so that they would trigger the trap and cause more agony for Arsenal? The weight of guilt gripped Caleb's heart. Was he responsible for putting Lars through all this pain?

"Don't listen to him!" Jacob shouted, slamming his weapon down hard on a rhino's head; reminiscent of kendo. "You are not_responsible for the pain _he is inflicting upon our friends and family. He has the choice to shock them. He is the one pushing those buttons. He is the one that's putting them through this. Wrong answer or right, _he_still has the option to not shoot a thousand volts against his captives!" He ducked a blow from the rhino before shoving the blade right into the man's forehead, dazing the leather-clad man. A second later, a blue bolt of energy struck the very same Bondsman's chest, freezing him in a stasis field.

Caleb nodded to himself firmly. It was not his fault. There might be a few knowledge gaps between him and Lars but that was not something to torture his boyfriend over. He bared his fangs and lifted his shield just as wild whips of leather came crashing down around them. His forearm rang from the impact but he was otherwise unharmed. There was a pattern to the strikes; two quick blows followed by a very powerful one with two whips. As the next cycle started, he quickly lifted his sword, holding it horizontally. The leather whip struck the diamond-like blade with momentum carrying it to wrap around the weapon multiple times. The rhino on the other end appeared stunned for a moment. Caleb gave the blade a hard yank and the man was forced to stumble forward a single step. Seeing his son's actions, David seized the blade of Branding Iron and helped with the second tug. The Bondsman was forced forward a few more steps. Then Samson joined the fray and with one last mighty tug, the Bondsman was yanked clear off his feet and sent hurtling towards them. Caleb swung the shield of his weapon while both David and Samson flung clenched fists right at the flying rhino.

CRACK!

The henchman was sent flying clear back towards his companions while his horn shattered with an ear-splitting sound like thunder.

The Bondsmen quickly realised that they were at a disadvantage. They quickly retreated, placing themselves right in front exit deeper into the Gimp's fortress. Leather strips burst from the ground, wrapping around them to form a black, striated wall. Their coordination and intelligence was on par with Tibia's men. Throwing themselves at Assault was suicide given how the heroes were formed but the team's objective was to get past them and stop the Arsenal's screaming. The best way to do this was to barricade themselves against the exit.

"Crap..." Caleb sneered. "How the hell do we get past them now?"

"Uh... I have an idea," Elliot said, stomping forward, Lance by his side. Behind them, the six Bondsmen lay unconscious having been soundly defeated by the duo. "But Jacob isn't going to like it."

At the sound of his name, Reaper trotted back to them, still clutching Mugen Kosetsu. "I'd rather not unleash Kosetsu's stored power right now. There's still no telling what's beyond those doors. So whatever you've got planned, do it."

Elliot shrugged in his huge power armour. "Alright. Don't say I didn't warn you." He pointed at the wall of leather. "Everyone cover me! We need to get fairly close to that thing!"

Caleb lifted his shield and hoisted his blade over his head, ready to thrust. "You heard the man!" Assault assembled in front of Elliot, forming a barrier of bodies. "Begin the assault!"

The entirety of Assault charged, letting out tremendous battle cries. Caleb had flashes back to his football training drills when he had to play one of the linemen. Charging at a wall of muscle padded with armour was nothing compared to this. Especially since the defencive linemen couldn't open up their wall and start shooting pellets of leather at them. Caleb kept his head behind his shield but he could see that his kinetic barrier was still taking hits when the Bondsmen fired at his legs. The barrier went from the shimmering blue to green rapidly. Another ten yards and he was down to yellow.

"How much longer!" David shouted. "My shields aren't going to hold for much longer!"

"Just a little closer!" Elliot shouted.

Even with their continued movement, the rapid assault from the Bondsmen was tearing through their shields. Caleb was down to yellow and quickly dipping into the warning orange.

Another ten yards and they were just a little past the halfway point of the field.

"Elliot!" barked Lance.

"Almost there!"

Red. His shields were down to the red!

"There! Everyone dive to the sides!"

Caleb immediately dove for his left and the rest of the team peeled away from Elliot who had been mostly unimpeded by the constant fire. There was a sudden mechanical whirring and flames erupted from the base of the power armour's feet. The back of the armour suddenly sprang open and Elliot leapt out from the miniaturised mech much to Caleb's surprise. The armour lifted off the ground and suddenly shot straight towards the barrier, flames erupting from his hands and feet to propel it at a blistering speed. The Bondsmen had no time to react before the armour slammed hard into their makeshift barrier and -

BOOOOM!

Erupted in a spectacular fiery display. The shock wave from the explosion rippled throughout the entire chamber, shattering the spotlights, glass platforms and even the giant monitor that was displaying the Gimp's startled expression. A blast of wind and fire washed over Caleb. The young wolf held his shield over his head as the flames and rubble rushed from one end of the battlefield to the other. The roar in his ears didn't die down for an entire minute but that may have been because of shell shock. A steady rumbling of debris falling all around them continued even as the flames from the initial explosion died. The smell of burnt flesh and leather wafted into his nostrils.

Gingerly, he peeked out from underneath his shield.

"Oooh..." he grimaced. "That's not pretty."

Being at the centre of the explosion, the remaining henchmen had been severely injured. More than a few of them were burnt to black in a large portion of their bodies though it was hard to tell if that was actually their flesh burning or leather grafted to their skin by the heat. All of them lay on their backs or were slammed against the walls. It was hard to tell if they were alive but by the sounds of the moans rising from their direction, at least a few were still conscious and in unbelievable agony.

Jacob was the first to rise, dusting himself off casually. "I'm pretty sure I didn't ask for a self-destruct mechanism to be installed into the armour."

"That was my thing," Elliot admitted, grinning sheepishly. "I sort of figured that I wouldn't want anyone to hack my baby so if ever there was a reason for me to get rid of her, I'd make sure it was on my terms. I also changed the power source to something a little less... nuclear. Seriously, what were you guys thinking putting that kind of generator in a combat suit?"

"We were thinking that the only time you were inside a woman was when said woman was a mechanical suit and would rather explode than be apart from you?"

Elliot scowled. "Fuck you, Reaper."

******

Wilhelm Whip was somewhat surprised at how his Game Show had turned out. He had hoped that the chamber would hold off _Assault_for at least a few more minutes. The timer on his display was sitting at twenty-five minutes and forty-seven seconds, slowly ticking down. That didn't really matter. By the time _Assault_caught on, it would already be too late to stop the countdown. Besides, they still had the Shadows of Doubt and the Path of Seven to contend with. That would be more than enough time to keep them busy for another twenty-five minutes.

"Clearly, they were far more resourceful than you had first expected."

Spider Queen's sultry voice came from his left but he chose to ignore them. His eyes were firmly on Assault as they charged through the destroyed doors and into the next area of his base.

"But they have sacrificed much," he contended. "The orca, Elliot, is now without his power armour. I can also see the seeds of doubt I have planted in their minds. I am confident my plan will work."

"I am sure it will work as well," chuckled the arachnid Gene Stealer. "My concern is the cost of such a plan."

The Gimp chortled. "I will take _everything_from them."

"I wasn't referring to the price they will pay." Spider Queen's supple hands rested on his shoulder. "I was referring to the price Reaper will extract from you."

He brushed aside her hand. "If you are referring to that letter and his banter, I am unperturbed."

"That is my concern." The Gene Stealer stepped back towards the shadows. "Any sane person would be worried, making plans and preparing themselves. You stubbornly cling to your plan and your path. I think Reaper senses that. He knows_your weakness. He knows that _you_know. And he knows that not acting upon it is the beast weapon to get under _your skin."

The Gimp threw her retreating voice a sharp glance. "I have no weaknesses. I am the master of pain. Nothing scares me. Not even Reaper."

He could almost see her dark smile as her features faded into the shadows.

"I would not be so sure about that."

******

Unlike the previous chamber, this one distinctly was more arena-like and not at all as gaudy. Where they emerged overlooked the huge, bowl-like arena. There was a long, thin path wide enough for a single person that ended with in a circular platform that was placed just at the edge of the circular arena at the centre of the coliseum. A similar platform was placed at the opposite end of the arena which was already occupied by a single member of the Bondsmen. The stadium had a mocking audience, each of the made of leather like weird puppets covered in dark latex. Their hollowed out eye sockets stared expectantly at Arsenal while six Bondsmen stood on the opposite side of the arena beneath the overlooking platform.

"Welcome to the Shadows of Doubt," the Gimp announced. His grinning image was placed high above Bondsmen's side of the arena. On either side of his features were three other screens and when they sprang to life, the restrained members of Arsenal appeared looking significantly more... crispy. Caleb bared his fangs. Shards of glass began rising from the ground around his feet indicating that no anti-super fields were in effect... yet.

"I am sure you're wondering what I have in store so allow me to put you out of your misery." Spotlights sprang to life, angling towards the empty platform and then to six spots down on the arena opposite to the other six members of the Bondsmen. "Here, you will have the pleasure of fighting my specialised henchmen who have observed, studied and practised the fighting styles of the very same people you aim to rescue. Each of them are exact mirror images of your companions. Six fighters will go in while the seventh and last member of Assault will stand on the platform. The person standing on the platform will be responsible for the coordination and overall tactics of the team. They will not be allowed to participate except for using special cards that I have provided. These cards will trigger devices all over the field. They can be used to set traps for the opponent, initiate beneficial effects or maybe just general annoyances. Either way, that is the limit of the coordinator's interference."

Jacob cocked his head to the side in curiosity. "Why does this format seem weirdly familiar? Seriously. A team of six fighting another team of six with a 'coordinator' hanging over their shoulders only capable of triggering cards that affect the field? If you gave us multi-coloured balls to throw around, I'd almost be tempted to call a lawyer to argue against plagiarism."

"Leave the commentary to me, Reaper," the Gimp chastised. "Pick whom will be your coordinator and who will be your fighters."

All eyes immediately went to Elliot who lifted his hand.

"I'm the one without a suit here and not to boast, I _am_a super-genius. So I'll take the role of coordinator."

"Then it's settled. Fighter! Take up your positions!"

Six spotlights indicated where each of the remaining members of Assault should stand. Caleb began striding down the steps, his skin crawling at the hollow stares of the 'audience' as they followed him. He noticed Jacob had hung back with Elliot and perked his ears.

"Out of curiosity, Elliot," said Legion, "have you heard from Rage or AEGIS before you sent your suit out on a suicide mission?"

The orca shook his head worriedly. "No. I kind of figured that it might be because we're so far underground but even when we were in Tibia's place, I could connect to them. I think I lost connection with the Cornucopia_as we were approaching _Grinning Buddha."

Jacob let out a thoughtful noise and clapped Elliot's shoulder. Then he hurried to catch up with the others, coming up right behind Caleb.

"What was that about?" asked the young Outsider.

"Just thinking that the Gimp is purposefully jamming my comms with the Cornucopia for a reason." He tapped his ear which still had the communicator embedded into it. Caleb and the rest of Assault had the same. "I haven't heard a peep from Nate or AEGIS and we know the Gene Stealers are aware of our carrier now."

"Why does that matter?"

It was Elliot who answered over their ear piece. "Because, Muscles, the Gimp has all the cards in this scenario.He may be the 'Master of Pain' but he could threaten Arsenal_with death if an_ AEGIS combat group came rushing in. Think about it, these traps are all geared for us." Above them, Elliot was striding down the gangway towards his dais. "If we brought AEGIS along, he could threaten to kill Lars and the others if we didn't participate. He'd be castrating AEGIS. H_e's clearly planned for that. Why then, is he jamming our comms?"_

"That begs the questions, why didn't we charge in with AEGIS's troops?" Leon asked.

"Because I strongly suspect we'll need them on the outside instead of alongside us," Jacob answered grimly.

The six fighters took up position and there was a loud fanfare of trumpets and drums. There was a distinct Roman coliseum feeling to the entire scene. The crowd of leather-clad 'audience members' appeared to applaud but the cheer that came roaring from them was canned and artificial. This was vastly different from when he was getting cheers from a live audience while making a touchdown. Perhaps that was the Gimp's plan; unnerve them with these hollow eyes... or...

"Felix said that there were about eighty men given to each member of the Legion of Pain," he whispered softly into his microphone. "There were twenty members of the Gimp's Alpha Team that we fought in the Game Show. There are seven rhinos here. That means there are thirteen unaccounted for." His eyes narrowed in at the symbol on the chests of the rhinos. Gamma. "They're Gamma Team."

"You're right," Elliot whispered. "I have this feeling that they're hiding amongst the audience. Everyone stay on guard."

The opening ceremony ended and the Gimp began speaking again. "To give you all a fighting chance, I am going to tell you which of my warriors will fight and you are free to make your choice on whom should fight them. First up, I will bring to the stage my Lars McLeod. I call him 'Dark Flare'."

Caleb cocked an eyebrow as one of the bulky rhino who was many times bigger and wider than David stepped forward. He was curious as to exactly how someone so big and meaty could replicate his dad's fighting style. As he thought this, black leather came seeping out from behind the Bondsman's skin, creeping over his body like some sort of sentient goo. It wrapped around the rhino's arms, legs and torso, reshaping itself. Colour began seeming into the costume, mirroring the stripes of Lars' fireman like costume including the heavy boots and the helmet.

"You must be kidding me," David sighed. "A costume doesn't make a hero! I'll show this impostor..."

"No,"_Elliot said firmly. _"Out of the three of us, David, Samson and Jacob are the superpower powerhouses. Caleb is highly adaptive and could deal with any of them if they fail while Lance is physically strong and has a lot of endurance. If I were to do a match-up based on who will have the most advantage over our opponents, I'd pitch Samson again Mary, David against Ben, Jacob against Madman, Lance against Rhiannon, Leon against Lars and then Caleb against Bren."

Over-protective-David sprang to action. "What? Why Leon?"

"Because Lars is a very visual fighter," Leon said striding forward away from the spotlight. "He needs to know where he's throwing his fireballs or he'll risk hitting his own teammates. He's also a short-to-mid range fighter with particular emphasis on short-range. Against someone who specialises in long range like me and who can disappear at a moment's notice, he's at a disadvantage."

"Just be careful of his AOE attacks," Jacob warned. "That's something he has over you, Leon. He can cover a wide area. You can't. Doesn't matter if he can't see you if he can consume the entire field in fire." The black-furred wolf glanced towards the Dark Flare. "At least I _think_he's going to use fire..."

Caleb glanced up to the platform Elliot was standing upon and noticed that there was now a holographic console dancing in front of the portly whale. Elliot was quickly scanning through the 'cards' that were supposedly in his hand. On the dais itself, Elliot had three screens in front of him. On the left was the 'cards' displayed as six rectangles with various icons and descriptions displayed upon them. The middle screen and by far the largest was a view of the arena that he could control by just waving his hand over it. The right most was his 'deck' and 'discard pile'. He guessed that he had a finite number of cards to use.

"Alright," began the super-genius. "I think I'm ready. Pray to your gods that this works out as well as I hope."

Another trumpeting fanfare erupted and the Gimp shouted, "Ready! Fight!"

Dark Flare launched forward, black leather erupting from his feet and launching him up into the air like Lars would do to propel himself. Unlike Lars, however, the leather acted more like a spring that sent the rhino into the air. Leather bands erupted from his hands, gathering in a vague ball shape which he then hurtled straight at Leon. At least... where Leon should have been. Caleb immediately lost track of his big brother thanks to Scowl Wolf's superpower. When the ball of leather struck the ground, it erupted, coils of leather shooting out mimicking an eruption of flames. All things considered, it was a fairly accurate mimicry and Caleb was honestly impressed.

A bolt of blue energy flashed just out of the periphery of his vision, the only indication of where Leon was. Flare was incredible reflexes, just as Lars did from years of playing football, and swung his hand upwards. Black leather burst from his forearm and immediately blocked the rifle shot. The leather was wreathed in an aura of blue stasis energies. That gave the rhino a second to emerge from behind his paralysed barrier and thrust his hand down at where Leon had been. A stream of fire came erupting from his hand like the jet from a flamethrower. Given the distance, however, the 'flames' spread out and lost their focus the further they got from Dark Flare. Leon likely wasn't anywhere near the location of the flames.

"Caltrops!" came an announcement from above them. The voice was generic and did not come from the Gimp. Still masculine and with a metallic twang, the voice heralded a shower of small, metal triangles that erupted from some hidden source around them. The spiked traps suddenly covered the black concrete of the field.

"Ow! Son-of-a-bitch!" Leon cried from near the base of the opposing coordinator. The five Bondsmen on the opposite team jerked around in surprise as Leon was so close to them.

"Shit!" Caleb cried. "Leon! They can see you!"

Dark Flare spun towards his exposed brother and hurled two 'fireballs' straight at him. The five Bondsmen scrambled away while Leon bolted.

"Fuck! A weakness of his power," Elliot cursed. "The moment he's seen, as long as an enemy keeps their eyes trained on him, they can track him! Those caltrops aren't helping"

Leon scrambled away from the initial two fireballs but the caltrops pierced were rapidly eating away at his kinetic barriers. Since his shields were lighter than anyone else's, his shields went from blue to green and then to yellow in a matter of seconds.

"Leon!" Caleb cried. "Stop moving! You're tearing through your shields!"

"If I stop moving, he's fucking get me!" Leon shouted back.

"Use your cloaking!" Jacob shouted.

Suddenly, Leon slammed a button on his forearm where his shield module was. His figure shimmered and then he vanished from sight. Dark Flare immediately jerked back in the air as a blue bolt of energy shot at him from a different direction.

A wave of relief hit Caleb. "Yes! Go for it, Leon! You can do it!"

Leon was not wasting any more time. With a speed that would have made any sniper proud, Leon kept firing stasis shots over and over again with only about three seconds between each blast. He was constantly moving but slowly as to avoid the caltrops. It was enough that even as Dark Flare hurled a fireball or two, he was missing the invisible wolf. The airborne rhino was kept in the air thanks to leather columns that curled and coiled like flames. One of Leon's shots suddenly struck one of the columns and Dark Flare jerked back a step as the blue halo quickly sprang up from the site of impact towards him. The rhino severed the link between him and the leather column, dropping an entire foot before catching himself on another column.

"That's it, son!" David shouted. "Keep him on the defencive!"

It was strange hearing David shout encouragement towards his rebellious son. Perhaps seeing him in action would finally convince David that Leon was indeed a hero.

Suddenly, Dark Flare threw both his hands into the air. Leather erupted from his body, encasing him in a black sphere. Before Leon could get a shot off, all that leather shot outward in a vicious rain of sharpened edges. Caleb had to leap back away from the spotlight as did the rest of Assault as the rain covered nearly all of the arena. His brother's cry seized his heart in fear and he watched as Leon dropped out of invisibility and crashed to the ground. One of the leather spikes had embedded itself into his left calf.

"Fuck! Leon!" Lance shouted.

"Smokescreen!" bellowed the mechanical announcer.

White smoke came shooting out of hidden grates, immediately encasing the arena in a thick haze. Caleb noticed Elliot was panting hard and seemed to have been the one to trigger the effect. But even with the temporary loss of visibility, Dark Flare was still at an advantage. Hovering over the entire smokescreen, the leather-clad rhino lifted his hands over his head. Strips of leather erupted from his fingertips, gathering together in a rapidly growing ball above him.

"Supernova," David hissed. "Lars only used that move a couple of times while he was still Firebrand of the Elemental Alliance. It was supposed to be his signature move! Leon! Get out of there!"

This was not a move Caleb had seen his boyfriend use at all but given the size of the rapidly growing sphere, he knew that if it hit the ground, Leon was most assuredly screwed no matter where he was hidden.

"Leon!" he cried.

The supernova grew to at least ten times the size of Dark Flare and with a grin, the rhino -

A loud screen suddenly interrupted the Bondsman. Without warning, a large mechanical eagle collided with the rhino's face, breaking through the fireman's helmet and digging its razor-sharp claws right into the impostor's face.

"Zeus!" exclaimed Lance.

A single blue bolt erupted from somewhere in the smokescreen. It didn't strike Dark Flare, however. It struck the supernova. The huge ball of leather suddenly stopped writhing and its weight became apparent to the blinded rhino. Zeus immediately dove away as all control Dark Flare had over the sphere was lost. Caleb closed one eye and grimaced as the enormous, heavy sphere fell upon Dark Flare and crashing down to the ground. It didn't explode as would be expected due to the stasis field but there was no doubt that the impostor rhino was out for the round.

Trumpets blared and the crowd cheered.

"And Scowl Wolf is the winner!" the Gimp announced. "But at what cost?"

Fans and exhaust ports went to work, clearing the smoke from the ground. Some force wiped the caltrops from the field. Leon was revealed perched on his side, barely holding onto his stasis rifle with blood streaming down his leg. The Hales immediately rushed towards him with David reaching him first.

"Hold still, son," David said firmly. "Lance, I need you to pull out the leather. I'll stem the flow of blood."

"How?" Lance asked.

"Can control all metals. There's a little bit of metal in the blood and that's enough for me to stop it from going everywhere."

"Actually I mean how am I supposed to pull out the spike but okay." Lance reached down and gently yanked the leather spike from his brother's calf. Leon grimaced, biting back the pain.

Caleb hoisted his brother to his feet, slinging an arm over his shoulder. "You were awesome, man. That was just... Wow."

Leon gave him a lopsided smile. "Thanks. I'm already starting to heal so I think I'll be okay in a few. I just need to rest."

The look on David's features said he didn't agree but he kept his muzzle shut. At least his dad was wise enough not to tarnish Leon's victory.

"Next up!" bellowed the Gimp without pause. "My version of Mary Brightwood. I call him Bastard Blade!"

Samson cracked his knuckles ominously and took a step forward. He crossed the Hales, pausing a moment to place a paw against Leon's chest and stopping the procession. "You fought bravely, young pup," rumbled the Alpha Werewolf. "I am sure your father is already considering turning the rest of your family into his subordinate pack but in case you would rather not fall under the command of your father, I would be more than willing to accept you into my circle."

"Not a chance, Samson," growled David, baring his fangs and with eyes flashing red.

"Does that mean you really do want to bite us, dad?" Leon asked, a sardonic smile on his muzzle.

Caleb elbowed his brother's ribs. "Not now, Leon. Come on."

Samson released the Hales and stepped forward, rolling his shoulders as the next Bondsman took up position. Like the first, black leather began streaming out from his back in the form of goo. It curled around the male's form, forming a tight, billowing cloak with bladed edges that was a distinct mockery of Mary's costume. Caleb was unsure how the rhino would be able to mirror Mary's fast and agile fighting style but from what he could see, these Bondsmen were incredibly creative with their given powers. They were definitely more varied and skilled than Tibia's men. Was that because they had longer with their powers compared to Tibia? Caleb shook side that thought. No. The Gimp had only been recently transformed but he had been freed for longer. Perhaps he had been training them personally for these nefarious games and that prepared them to develop their theories.

"Ready?" the Gimp chuckled. "Fight!"

Bastard Blade suddenly launched himself forward, moving far faster than his size would suggest.

"What the fuck!?" Lance exclaimed. "How the hell is he that fast!?"

"His control isn't over just the generation of leather," Elliot gasped. "It's control over the positioning and momentum of leather. It's like David's power to summon and manipulate metal only with leather!"

That_was how Bastard Blade would mirror Mary's lightning-fast movements. Being encased in that leather suit, Blade would be able to move his entire body as fast as he could think! That was both genius and frightening! Samson was instantly put on the defencive, leaping back as Bastard Blade made the first strike. The rapid punches from the rhino was so quick and intense that they were hurtling pulses of compressed air, emitting a faint whistling noise from their movements. Samson winced as one such blow just _missed his flanks but still tore at the wolf-shaped cloak he wore.

"Fuck!"_Elliot cursed. _"Samson, I've got a card here. Flash Trap. Lead him to -"

"No."

The deep, rumbling growl caused all of _Assault_pause. Even as Samson stood stock still and crossed his arms in front of his face, taking the blows against his forearms, the werewolf was grinning.

"What!? Your shields won't hold for much longer against that barrage!"

"I don't want them to. Just trust me on this one."

"You're crazy! At least keep moving! You'll regenerated some of your shields that way!"

Bastard Blade suddenly did a side flip, moving to Samson's flank. As he landed on a single foot, he spun. The bladed edges of his coat sliced into Samson's shield, shifting the iridescent blue into a deep, emerald green. The werewolf king didn't move and pivoted to face his opponent even as a flurry of punches and kicks dipped his shields further down into the warning colour of yellow.

"Samson, what are you doing you crazy fuck!?" David shouted. "Fight back!"

Caleb opened his muzzle slightly in realisation. "He _is_fighting back..."

The Bondsman leapt straight at the werewolf, slamming two fists hard into Samson's chest and sending him back a good three feet. Shields down into the orange, Samson barely had enough time to drop his arms a little before Bastard Blade leapt at him. The rhino seized Samson's shoulders and jumped into the air. In a very Mary-esque move, Blade lifted himself into the air with his legs pointing straight up like a gymnast. He spun, deftly switching his hands from one shoulder to the other without skipping a beat. That allowed him to use his momentum to swing his feet right into Samson's back. There was a loud shattering noise as the kinetic barrier shattered entirely; red translucent shards scattering in all directions.

Samson gagged as he felt the impact of that powerful kick against his spine. Still, he remained standing.

Unperturbed by the werewolf's determination, Bastard Blade charged forward, fist raised.

That's when Samson grinned. "That's your first and only mistake, boy."

Alpha Drive, the patriarch of the Alpha Pack suddenly spun around, his own fist clenched. Time seemed to slow as the two men charged at one another, fists set for a collision course. There was a flash of realisation in Bastard Blade's features as he - along with everyone else - remembered Samson's true supowerpower; kinetic absorption. But it was too late to pull out of the attack and their fists collided. An ear-splitting boom split across the entire chamber followed by a deafening shockwave comparable to Elliot's suicide bomb with his power armour. Only this one was far more compact and focused. Samson specifically angled his fist upward. The moment their two fists struck, Bastard Blade let out a howl of agony. Caleb watched with painful clarity as Blade's knuckles disintegrated upon impact; flesh, bone and leather being torn away_from Samson's fist like they were put into a blender. The force of the blow alone was enough to send Blade careening a good twenty feet into the air while his forearm was ripped to shreds by the whirling winds and cataclysmic force. It was actually possible to see the 'bullet' of compressed air and kinetic energies shoot straight upwards. That very same bullet crashed into the ceiling shattering the earth and concrete overhead. No debris was allowed to fall upon the arena as the blast just carried it _straight up while ripping a hole through the mountain side about twenty feet wide.

Samson stood at the centre of the arena, fist angled into the air and with his head down. Snow began seeping in from above while daylight cut through the darkness of the arena. It was a moment straight out of a movie or a comic book. The lone victorious hero standing over his defeated foe, frozen in the position that had guaranteed him the win while nature itself celebrated his success with the glistening beauty of snowfall.

"Wow..." Caleb breathed.

His ears suddenly perked as Jacob lifted a paw towards his own ear.

"Nate?" said the black-furred wolf.

"Reaper. Fuck. What happened?"

It was Nathan Rage communicating straight to Jacob. Caleb shuffled closer to his best friend, trying to listen in.

"Let's just say Samson raised the roof."

"Well thank Wolf Christ I managed to get to you. There's a motherfucking nuclear missile that's been activated in that motherfucking base!"

Jacob immediately went rigid. Even from across the arena, Samson had overheard the announcement and he broke his stoic position.

"I sort of expected the Gimp to pull something like that. Where's he aiming it? The Observatory?"

"That's it. He hasn't opened the shaft and I don't think he's actually planning to. Reaper, he's going to detonate that missile in the base!"

Caleb's heart suddenly froze while the Gimp rattled off about Samson's apparent willingness to sacrifice himself for his son.

"How much time do we have?"

"About ten minutes by our best estimate. We can try and get a team down there but..."

"No," Jacob said, shaking his head. "If that nuke goes off, it's going to take the mountain with it. There's people at the Observatory. Get them out of there. Now."

"Affirmative. Don't die."

Jacob started striding forward. "I don't plan on it."

During the conversation the Gimp had sent out the third member of his leather mockeries. Caleb just caught the Gimp announcing the rhino as 'Gimp Wolf', likely styling himself as Ben's dark shadow. Elliot, who was too far up on the platform, was shouting in their ear piece.

"Roman, get the fuck back! Ben's techniques are all about battlefield control and wide ranged attack. You'd be tied with that! It'll be a battle that's drawn out. We need to get David out there who is far more precise and -"

Jacob suddenly retrieved Mugen Kosetsu from over his shoulder. All of Assault_froze and not just because of the chill in the air that came from the sunroof Samson had created. "Sorry, Elliot. We don't have time to play games anymore. I'm going to have to go for the _nuclear option." He held the sword against his waist, left paw clutching the scabbard while the right held onto the grip tightly. "Don't move."

The Gimp let out a manic laugh. "Really, Reaper. Already resorting to using your precious weapon? I thought you were saving that for when you faced me?"

Jacob did not reply and bent his knees slightly, almost crouching down even as the other members of the Gimp's Bondsmen began to crouch and ready themselves for the assault. Off in the stands, Caleb could see a few of the latex audience members move - likely the other members of Gamma Team. David immediately summoned a wall of metal between him and Jacob, dragging Leon behind it. Lance huddled over his twin brother, using all four of his arms to cradle Leon against the cold. Samson hurried towards Caleb's side and pressed a hand against his chest defensively. For his part, Caleb brought up a wall of glass similar to David and prayed the diamond-hard barrier would be strong enough against Jacob's onslaught. On the other side, the Bondsmen were doing the same except with leather.

"Here we go," began Jacob. "K?ri no nakigoe," he chanted. Snow began to swirl around him, howling in a visible circular pattern. He had yet to draw the blade. "Raionroa!"_The blizzard intensified and Caleb could _swear_he could see the wisps of _lions_charging around in the roaring winds. Jacob's grip on the blade's handle tightened. _"Mugen Kosetsu!"

Reaper drew the blade in one, swift motion, slicing through the air with the icy, white blade. The blizzard around him erupted outward in a broad circular fashion, a deafening roar heralding the pinnacle of the attack. The blast of icy winds was strong enough that it reached the edges of the arena within a second. Ice immediately began forming around the latex audience members and creeping up the curving walls of the coliseum. Even from behind his barrier, Caleb could feel the temperature dropping to freezing and his breath condensed in front of his face. The world almost completely became blanketed in white...

... until the lions came.

The blizzard abruptly turned an icy blue and the snow condensed into the shape of thousands - no - millions of solid felines made completely out of ice. These very same lions were piled on top of one another, rushing over each other and charging in all directions. Their continuous roaring was like the dread-inducing rumble of an avalanche. They leapt clear over Caleb's and David's barrier, avoiding the members of Assault and rushing right into the stands. Caleb spun and watched both in fascination and terror as these maned, icy constructs slammed into the leathery audience members, ripping them to shreds in a torrent of claws, ice and fangs. Those poor, unfortunate members of Gamma Team in the stands hid behind their leather barrier but that could not hold up against the might of Mugen Kosets_u._ The leather froze and shattered within just a few seconds of exposure to the arctic lions. The Bondsmen vanished screaming beneath the avalanche.

"Wolf Christ..." Samson breathed, eyes turned upwards as the lions leapt over them, avoiding them entirely. Through the minuscule gapes between the blue bodies, he could see the lions rushing up the sides of the arena, freezing everything it touched. The enormous screens that displayed the Gimp and Arsenal shut down against the ice. Their supports shattered and dropped from the ceiling only for the lions to lunge at it. Their bodies rapidly formed enormous stalactites of ice. The attack was not restricted to the arena either. With the hole in the ceiling, the avalanche of ice rushed out and no doubt started crawling into the sides of Mount Everest. Caleb would have paid to see what that would have looked like from above.

Speaking of seeing it from above, he remembered there was one other member of Assault that was unprotected.

"Elliot!"

He turned towards the platform and could barely see the lions purposefully avoiding the orca. It must've looked a lot like Moses parting the Red Sea only with a flood of ice and Elliot standing alone on the platform. The Bondsman opposite of Elliot was not so lucky as he was immediately consumed by the blast.

The roaring began to abate and over it all, Caleb could hear the distinct sound of a blade being sheathed. A soft click ended the attack and the last of the feline predators leapt over Caleb's barrier to rush out onto the mountainside. Jacob stood alone at the centre of the arena, surrounding by ice with _Mugen Kosetsu_now firming back in its scabbard. Caleb lowered his barrier just as David did the same.

"Holy fucking shit!" Elliot screamed. "You froze the whole fucking_arena!"_

"We didn't have time to play at the Gimp's games anymore," Jacob said. "He's triggered a nuclear missile to detonate. We've maybe got nine minutes before it explodes. We need to move. Now."

******

No matter how much he had prepared, the Gimp was still in awe at the might Legion held. He had watched from his monitors as Reaper had unleashed his attack and had to admit, he felt the touch of fear when he had watched those lions smash the doors past the Shadows of Doubt and start making their way down the Path of Seven. Some sections of his third and final trap had actually been frozen over but hadn't reach every section. He had purposefully ensured that the hallways of the Path were extremely long just to delay Assault further and force them to expend more energy as they drove to their goal. On the surface, his cameras had also watched those terrifying freezing lions charge down the mountainside, painting the entire surface of his base in snow. It would go unnoticed against the backdrop of Mount Everest but it had been enough that the entrance to Grinning Buddha, the flat patch of earth that had been so warm that ice could not touch it, had completely frozen over. The vents and exhausts that had once acted as a means to keep the base warm and filled with fresh air were now completely frozen over and clogged with ice.

It was impressive.

But the Gimp had achieved his goal.

Reaper had used his trump card. Even if Reaper kept that blade in its sheath for the entire nine minutes and forty-nine seconds, it would not be nearly as devastating as what he had just unleashed. That meant that if the Gandhi-class nuclear missile detonated, there would be no way Reaper could counteract it.

"Checkmate," he chortled confidently.

Of course, he was not done. Not yet. There was still more pain to inflict.

"His power is truly immense," Shark Tamer observed.

Whip glanced over to where the hunched Gene Stealer watched the screen. "It certainly is. As is his restraint. I enjoyed forcing him to unleash all that power prematurely."

"I would very much like to dissect him," murmured the scientist. "If his only true superpower is the inability to feel pain, I must question how it is he is able to summon and use these weapons of his." The shark grinned toothily at the Gimp. "He seems the perfect candidate for you, no? So many mysteries, so much power and yet incapable of feeling pain."

"He is a font of knowledge and experience," agreed the Gimp, returning the grin. "A bastion of solidarity and wisdom that is the pillar for Assault. I look forward to breaking him and watching all of Assault crumble. And I know I am close." He reached down lewdly towards his restrained cock, the member already hard and pressing up against his leather shorts. "So _very_close."

******

The hallway ended abruptly in a fork of seven different pathways. Ice covered every wall, a side-effect of Jacob's attack. To say that Caleb felt 'chilled' by Mugen Kosetsu's power was an understatement - and a bad pun - but he also grew concerned that without that stored power, they were without a trump card. What did they have that could stop a nuclear missile? David mentioned that the missile likely needed a heavy metal - like uranium or plutonium - and that was something he could manipulate. Elliot suggested that if he could get to the detonator, he would likely be able to disable it. With all the monitors downed by Mugen Kosetsu, it was impossible to tell what the Gimp intended but just by the seven different hallways, he could guess what the manic rhino had intended. Only two of them could really disarm the missile. The rest would likely encounter traps or obstacles to delay their path.

"What now?" Elliot panted. Reduced to running on his own two feet, the orca was visibly uncomfortable with all the physical exertion. He was drenched in sweat and wheezing with every second word.

"We really need to get you into the gym," Caleb said.

"What? So I could trade in my brains for thick muscles like yours? No thanks."

"I dunno, dude. Your power will still let you be super-smart. That's not something big biceps will change. Would it really hurt to have a backup plan just in case you send your robot into a suicide mission again?"

Elliot, gasping for air, lifted a finger at him. "First of all, it's a suit of power armour. Secondly... It may just be the lack of oxygen or my heart screaming for surrender but you're actually making a bit of sense."

He smiled faintly down at his sometimes-friend, often-colleague. "Come on. When we get back, I'll at least get you on a jog."

"Just kill me now..." grimaced the orca. "How much time do we have left?"

From the head of the column, Jacob said, "About six minutes." The blonde-haired wolf pointed at the six passages. "I'm fairly sure only one of these passages leads directly to the nuclear missile and probably one of them goes straight towards the Gimp. Unless the Gimp is specifically waiting at the base of the missile."

"It seems stupid to me that he'd actually detonate the missile with him still in it," Leon commented. "Isn't he a 'Master of Pain'? Won't death end pain?"

"Unless he teleports away. He's still got Dragon Knight with him. Seconds before the missile detonates, he just needs to jump in a portal and watch him wipe out every enemy to the Gene Stealers that even remotely poses a threat." Jacob lifted three fingers. "I'm willing to wager that one of the passages actually goes to where Lars and the others are. So that's three possibilities. The other four are probably trapped."

"Then what's the plan? Any guesses?"

Caleb stepped forward, placing himself beside his best friend. "We don't have a choice. Just pick one and go for it. Only thing is..." He nodded directly towards Elliot. "Lance, take Elliot with you."

"What?" his brother exclaimed. "Why?"

"Elliot has no way to defend himself right now unless you count sarcasm as a weapon."

Elliot grimaced. "I'll have you know my Level 17 bard can do 4d4 psychic damage with Vicious Mockery alone."

Lance groaned and rolled his eyes but he moved towards the orca and hefted the portly whale easily in one hand, holding him fireman style against his chest.

"That means we can only go into six of the seven passages," Jacob concluded. "Still a good chance." He started storming down the centre passage. "I'll take this one. Everyone else, do your best."

Caleb nodded and picked the passage to Jacob's right. David started bolting towards the path to the farthest left while Samson, in direct opposition, charged down the far right. Lance and Leon picked two of the remaining paths, leaving Caleb to wish his brothers haste and safety.

His heart was racing hard in his chest, his legs pumping hard while a timer was ticking away in his mind.

"Time check," he asked, pressing a finger against his ears.

"Five minutes, fifty-seven seconds," Elliot responded through their communicators.

Just like football. Last quarter. Just a little six minutes on the clock. The opposing team had all the points and but the home team was just one touchdown from winning the game. The defence was tough and their plans were a mystery. Right now, they had to break through the defencive line, make that touchdown and then_hold_ it before the clock ran out. With a growl, he willed his legs to carry him down the ice-covered path. The crunch of his shoes against the thin layer of frozen water abruptly ended as the reach of Mugen Kosetsu ended and he was once again in the dark, concrete maze of Grinning Buddha. There was no time to wonder just how far Jacob's attack had reached and he charged with more conviction deeper into the tunnels.

He hit a flight of stairs at the end of the hallway and wondered if this meant he was heading straight into the missile silo, towards the Gimp or perhaps to Arsenal. There was no time to wonder as he pushed the door open and charged down the steps. There was a moment of reflection when he remembered that first time on his birthday last year when he, Lars and Ben had first revealed their secret identities to one another. They were charging down one of the stairs at West California High School fighting a thrall of Spider Queen.

"Fuck. My life is flashing before my eyes," he muttered to himself. Paws balled into fists and charging down the stairs, he firmly said, "Don't worry, guys. We'll save you."

"Time check," asked Leon.

"Four minutes, thirty seconds," Elliot began. The orca's voice was high-pitched and wheezing. Whether that was because he was from the exertion or panic that he could be turned into nuclear vapour in thirty seconds, he was unsure. "Oh shit!"

"What?" Caleb froze, fear in his heart. "What?"

"We're at the nuke! And there's... There's ten of these leather rhinos here! They're from Delta Team!"

At least one of them had made it to the missile.

"I can take care of the goons," rumbled Lance. The cracking of the four-armed wolf's knuckles could be heard over the communicator. "Get over to the nuke, little man. Disarm it."

"Just so you know, I may be a super genius but I have never tried to disarm a live nuclear missile before. Let alone a Gandhi-class nuke."

"Do your best, Elliot," Caleb said firmly. "I have faith in you."

Three more levels remained before he hit the base of the stairwell and wherever it was that this would lead him. Caleb glanced back up. It took him about two minutes to get this far. He could probably make it back in half that time and then head over to where Lance and Elliot were to give them support. But that would mean he would be abandoning this path and wherever it may lead. Caleb shut his eyes and felt the fear of indecision creeping in. He almost wished it was just as simple as to let someone order him about; maybe Rhiannon to give him orders or Mary to manipulate him. But that was the past and with a shake of his head and shoulders, he made the executive decision to keep going.

Caleb vaulted over the railings of the stairwell like in all those parkour videos he had seen on the internet. The impact was a little hard on his knees but he ignored the momentary discomfort as he kept vaulting over the railings, clearing the three remaining levels in just a few seconds. At the bottom of the stairs, he barged right through the door -

... and emerged into a long hall with a single door at the far end. Through the open door, he could clearly see the X-shaped tables where Lars and the others were perched.

He had made it. He had saved them!

Heart in his throat, Caleb charged down the hallway, tears welling up in his eyes as he finally would be reunited with his boyfriend after what felt like an eternity. But as he drew closer, something felt... off. _Arsenal_was not moving. Their heads were bowed, limbs limp as they were hung on the racks. His heart's fearful beats began resounding in his ears. Had the worst come to pass? Had the Gimp thrown him one last gut-wrenching piece of torment by performing the unspeakable.

"Lars!" he bellowed, charging into the chamber and straight towards the doberman.

Only... it wasn't his doberman.

It was... was...

"It's fake..." he whispered, prodding the surprisingly lifelike leather dummy. "It was... it was all fake!"

Loud, laughter erupted from somewhere around him.

"Yes! Yes! That's the look I'm looking for!" cried the Gimp. "The moment when hope is at it's highest only for you to come crashing down like Icarus to the sun! That is the most exquisite pain! How does it feel, Weapons Master? How does it feel to realise that all of this is for naught!? That you went through all this for nothing!? That you're about to be turned into radioactive dust when your boyfriend and loved ones aren't even here!?"

Caleb's eyes widened in realisation, his jaw dropping in horror. "They were never here... Or... if they were, they've been moved a long time ago..." He gripped his skull with both hands, claws digging into flesh. "Fuck!"

All the while, the Gimp laughed.

They were moved. All this, all the torment the Gimp had put them through, it had all been a trick. The images of their friends being tormented, the dark mirrors that were thrown in their way... all had been nothing more than a stalling tactic to get them to waste time. The Gimp had driven a hot, serrated blade into their hearts and was slowly giving it a mighty twist. Caleb squeezed his eyes shut, the tears of relief turning into ones of hot rage and pain.

He heard the presence of the Bondsmen approaching. One of them was clearly leader of Delta Team.

The Bondsman was huge, towering at nearly ten feet and brimming with fat and muscle. His entire body was covered in leather that reminded Caleb of those old-timey superhero costumes. The male's wrists were covered in a slightly grey coloured gloves and his 'boots' were the same while he appeared to wear similarly coloured underwear over the rest of his suit. The rest of the costume was entirely black save for the dangerous metal spikes that jutted out from his shoulders, wrists and ankles.

Caleb grit his fangs together, fury boiling his blood.

"You..." he sneered, seeing nothing but the Gimp's features in front of him. "You put us through all this... I... I'm going to -"

The rhino suddenly held up a hand and then with the other, tossed a key card onto the floor in front of him.

"We didn't sign up to die like this," rumbled the rhino. "The Gimp fully intends to detonate that nuke and while the Gene Stealers may save him, the way he treated us..." The man looked to the right, gritting his teeth in fury. "We thought we were actually here to fight you. To win. But this..." He gestured at the torture racks. "It's pointless! He just wanted to fuck with you guys and sacrifice us to do it! You saw how he treated those guys in Alpha at the Game Show! When everything went to shit, he just left them to die against you guys! He didn't even lift a finger for Gamma! That's fucked up."

The man nodded towards Caleb then pointed to his right towards a door. "Take that key card. Go that way. It'll take you straight towards the nuke. The nuke needs to be disarmed with a password. It's 'PA1N'. The 'I' is a one."

Caleb wasn't sure if he should trust the rhino before him. Then he remembered Felix. The former Bonehead was not just some goon. He was someone with motivations, beliefs and his own life; not just someone to be tossed aside and discarded by a supervillain. He saw the same sincerity in this rhino's eyes as he had seen in Felix's the moment that he had carried the man back from the bar to Jacob's place.

"What's your name?" he asked.

The rhino seemed stunned at the request. "Trent."

"Trent." Caleb held out a paw towards them. "Come with me."

There was a shocked look on the faces of the three members of Delta Team before him. "You're kidding, right? After all we've done? What we've been accomplice to? You'd trust us?"

He nodded firmly. "If there's anything I've learned, it's that everyone deserves a second chance or at least a chance to redeem themselves. I'll need extra firepower to stop the Delta guys defending the missile. Maybe you can help convince them to stop this shit and work with us to disarm the nuke. Besides, the way I figure it, there is no way you can make it out of here before the whole place goes up in a mushroom cloud. Your best chances of survival is to help us stop it."

Trent glanced towards the rhinos to his left and right. They all shared the same firm nod.

Then he seized Caleb's paw with a firm shake.

"We're with you, Weapons Master."

******

David had not expected an easy fight but when he charged into the broad chamber, he was stunned to find Samson emerging from a tunnel on the opposite side. There were no other exits, no other entrances save for the two hallways they had emerged from.

"Well fuck," he declared. "What now?"

As he said this, huge concrete barriers cam slamming down behind him, blocking off the way he had come. The same thing happened on Samson's side, trapping them both.

"You want to know how I knew the two of you would eventually collide?" the Gimp taunted. "Because your are both proud alpha male and you will be compelled to take the opposite routes from one another if given the chance. The Path of Seven was specifically designed with this in mind. The two outer most paths would both lead here."

"Son-of-a-bitch," Samson snarled. "He played us." He threw his head back, shouting at the disembodied voice. "What do you want, Whip? You want to watch as fuck David in the ass? Is that what you want?"

David huffed and crossed his arms furiously. "In your dreams, Connors."

"Gentlemen, please. Save your aggression for one another. I, above all else, am an educator. I enjoy educating others on pain and making them realise what will make them squirm. For you two, it is rather simple."

"And what would that be?" David snapped hotly. He tried searching for any sources of metal around him. What he could find was so firmly buried in concrete that were he to manipulate it, he risked bringing down the entire chamber and potentially the base itself. With his sons still somewhere in the facility, he couldn't risk that. He would have to resort of conjuring metal which was always exhausting for him. With the Gimp as his enemy and given how well the Gene Stealer had predicted their movements thus far, he was fairly sure Whip knew that summoning metal from nothing - despite being experienced in the act - left him open for several seconds as he not only had to materialise the metal but also manipulate it.

"Your pride," laughed the Gimp. "I will make it simple for both of you. I will open the paths that you came through only if you manage to defeat the other. I will not accept some mere heroic surrender either. You must_beat _your opponent to my satisfaction."

"Are you getting off on this, Whip!?" Samson roared. "Are you masturbating at the thought of the two of us smashing each other's faces?"

"Oh my no. I grow aroused at the thought of one of you submitting to the other as you fight for your loved ones. I know that is the one thing you would never surrender."

David grit his fangs together and locked gazes with Samson. From across the room, they both shared the same thought; if it was between their pride and those that they loved, family always won out. However, if they could get away with both intact, they would not hesitate. He hated to admit it, but some part of him was looking forward to this. Perhaps it was the growing werewolf part of him but there was no denying that he had long awaited for the chance to put Samson Connors in his place.

"Don't expect me to hold back, Samson!" David growled.

Samson straightened. Lifting his chin, Samson gripped the wolf-fur cloak he wore and tossed it aside dramatically. "I expect nothing less from you as well, David. But if I am not to hold back, then..." The werewolf suddenly hunched forward, teeth bared and with a deep growl rising from his throat. "... face the might of Alpha Drive!"

A sense of dread suddenly hit David as he realised exactly what Samson was doing.

The human shape of Samson Connors suddenly surged in all directions. That growling grew louder and louder as Samson's neck thickened, dense cords of green veins crawling over his flesh. Every muscle in his body seized up, flexing to double their size and then suddenly flexing a second time to again, increase their mass. Bones cracked, audible from across the chamber as the werewolf emerged.

Samson's nails turned black as night, lengthening into sharpened, curved claws. The dark brown hairs on the back of his hand grew thicker, denser and multiplied exponentially. They spread all over his fingers, even over his palms as his fingers widened to consume the new claws. Samson turned his newly formed paws into fists, pumping the change up towards his forearms. A forest of thick fur swept up Samson's arms, heralding the immense surge of muscle that strained the werewolf's tight-fitting costume. A faint part David watched those huge, mountain-crushing muscles straining the black and red sleeves and began causing his tail to gravitate between his legs while. There was another part that wanted to run his tongue up and down those arms and taste them.

"Focus!" he told himself, shaking away those perverted thoughts. "Now's my chance!"

While Samson was still transforming, he quickly pulled his paw back. A javelin of metal sprang up between his fingers and he hurled it at the emerging werewolf with all his strength, aiming right for the Alpha Pack patriarch's forehead.

Samson caught it with frightening ease.

"Oh shit..."

Samson's fingers bent the reinforced metal with ease and tossed the javelin aside. The man's features jutted forward, the human guise dropping in favour of the long, square muzzle of a werewolf. Sharp fangs that hung over his lips even when they were closed gave Samson a feral but at the same time handsome appearance. Brown fur spread all over his lengthening jaw, following the lines of his cheeks to form a set of cheek ruffs that turned slightly grey at the tips. The stylised hair that had always remained sleeked back puffed out, dismissing the copious amounts of product in favour of a wilder, longer look that spread all the way down Samson's neck and to his back to make a regal mane that almost hid his large, triangular ears.

"Can't give him a chance to finish his transformation!" David announced. With a cry, he flung both his paws behind him, holding them lower. Two huge walls of steel sprang up from the ground to his sides, each one at least ten feet thick. He flung his paws forward and those two panels rushed forward towards Samson.

The werewolf planted his feet just as his toes burst from his boots, spearheaded by claws. Samson smashed both his fists into the rushing panels, bending the metal with the impact and causing both to veer off course. The loud cracking of his feet and heels was complimented by the sound of tearing fabric and cloth as the werewolf's feet took a distinct digitigrade stance. His legs bulged, the fabric of his pants shredding from the hems until he was left with nothing but a pair of black shorts. His thighs were just one more inch from getting rid of the garment all together. The distinct bulge in his crotch didn't help the situation either... nor did it help David's hormones.

An image of prostrating himself in front of the huge werewolf invaded his mind but David shook it off.

As a final touch to the transformation, a long, sleek tail emerged from the base of Samson's spine; brown but tipped with a bit of grey.

"You don't look anything like your more bestial 'son'," David snarled. He hoped that by using the speech functions of his brain, he wouldn't be subject to his own primal nature.

Samson rolled his massive shoulders, each one looking like immense blimps of muscle. "Werewolves each take different shapes in their lupine forms. Some theorise that it has something to do with the phase of the moon when they first transform. You'll hear others claiming it's some sort of 'heritage'. Even werewolves are subject to degrees of racism and there was a period of time where certain werewolves would purge any other new convert that didn't look like them." He placed a paw on his huge, heaving chest. David could not help but note just how big and erect Samson's nipples were looking even hidden beneath that costume. "I believe that your form merely reflects your true nature as a werewolf. I am curious what yours will be..."

Samson then struck a very composed fighting stance reminiscent of martial arts. "But first, we must overcome this challenge. Come at me, pup!"

David twisted his neck a little to the left, feeling a little crack there before switching it to the right.

"I've been waiting for this for a long time."

******

Wilhelm Whip watched with glee as his psychological games quickly unwound the members of Assault. Weapons Master howled in agony as all his hopes were dashed. Feral Steel and Alpha Drive were pitched against one another. Even Feral Fang and that orca were thrown into shaky ground though the Gimp had not planned on them taking the same path together. In all his profiling, he had fully expected Feral Fang to take the path he did and had hoped the four-armed wolf would be faced with the monumental task of disarming the missile - which he clearly did not have the intelligence to do. The orca, though, would likely be able to stop the detonation... if he could get it. He chuckled to himself as he watched the portly whale try to make it up the flights of stairs leading up to the launch console.

Of course, this was all in anticipation for the final course: Jacob Reaper.

He switched off the holographic monitors hovering over his throne and watched the sole entrance to his chambers. There was a manic grin on his features as Reaper strode in, walking casually despite the urgency of the time limit.

"Trying to appear cool despite the pressure of time?" Whip taunted. "Or are you purposefully trying to save every second you can before approaching me knowing full well that I've forced you to use the power of your blade?"

Reaper stopped about halfway towards the raised dais. The chamber itself was bland. Just concrete with a few monitors displayed here and there showing each of the trials that the members of Assault_were forced to go through. "I don't need _Mugen Kosetsu at full power to defeat you, Wilhelm."

This was too delicious. Whip was at full mast in his tight, leather shorts. He had finally gotten to Reaper! So much so that the great hero was reduced to spouting cliches at him!

"Is that so?" he laughed, leaning forward with his eyes wide and that wide grin. "And why is that? Hmmm?" He licked his lips in anticipation for Reaper's next reply. Would it be something about how he could always summon another weapon? Or would he claim that he was strong enough without the sword? Then again, he could just say that the Gimp was weak and that he only would need the few minutes he had of the blade sheathed to defeat him in one blow? "Tell me, Reaper. What makes you so confident that you can defeat me without summoning a literal avalanche?"

Then Jacob smiled. Not a smile of confidence but one that was casual, friendly and even... dismissive?

"Because I know what you fear."

The Gimp frowned at him but it was fleeting and he threw his head back with a triumphant laugh. "Truly? That's how you plan to defeat me? My turning my fears_against me!? Fool! I am the Gimp! The Master of Pain! I fear _nothing!"

Reaper twirled Mugen Kosetsu absently in his paw. "Not even the nothingness of death?"

Wilhelm Whip hesitated and in that moment, he knew he had given ground to Reaper.

"Pain is proof that we are alive," continued Legion. "Pain is our body's way of telling us something is wrong or, at least in your case, that you're being exposed to something you enjoy. But in death, you don't feel pain."

The Gimp rolled his eyes. "I am not naive, Reaper. I know_that were I to die, you would have jurisdiction over my soul. There _is an afterlife!" His features spread back into his maddening grin. "And even were you to kill me, you would be forced to work with my soul! I will haunt you! I will constantly remind you of how I got under your skin! I will be that scar that you can never get rid of, that will always be there when you look in the mirror! Every time you look at me, you will be reminded of this moment when I got the better of you!"

"You know..." said the hero with a sigh. "There's something_that I forgot to mention about the whole reincarnation cycle with the No Ones. We may stand outside of time and space, we may be ageless and we may be able to spend all eternity with a soul, trying to help them find their happiness, but sometimes that soul just doesn't want to be happy. Sometimes, they're just... _curious about what'll happen if they just let go." He shrugged absently. "I'll be honest that I don't really know but there are those people who just don't want to keep living." There was a flash of insight in Reaper's eyes as he lifted his gaze towards the Gimp. "And I'll be frank, Wilhelm, I see you heading down that path."

"You think I'll just consign myself to oblivion? When I could torture an immortal being like you for all eternity?"

"Yes, actually. Mostly because eventually, like everything in this world, you will get bored of it."

The Gimp's features fell. "Preposterous!"

"No, it's true. Why do you think I spend most of my time visiting other realities? My story is over. I'm spending the rest of my 'retirement' helping others because eternity is boring otherwise." He lifted at finger. "I'm sure you've heard of the theory, Wilhelm. The reason why time seems to go by faster as you grown older is because you've already experienced the same things over again. The nine-to-five jobs, the daily grind, the same chores week in week out, the same holidays every year. It just goes by faster and faster because it's the same thing. That's what's happening to you now, isn't it, Wilhelm? You've experienced the same pains over and over again, absorbed it from others and now you're growing numb to it. Nothing in this existence excites you anymore. So you've set your sights higher. To me."

Jacob gave him the look he never thought he'd see; pity.

"And in the end, you're going to get bored of it as well. I guarantee you, if you keep going down this path, you're going to ask me one day to just end your existence."

Wilhelm Whip felt something he never thought he'd feel again; fury.

"That's bullshit! The ultimate pleasure in this world is pain!"

"Your pain or others?" Jacob asked, his voice dripping with sorrow and pity. "Think about how you've progressed, Wilhelm. As a child, you couldn't control your powers and absorbed the pain of others. Your own agony made your feel alive, compounding on that feeling. But as you grew, you sought out more and more extreme version of that pain until you eventually turned into a life of crime. That led you into the hands of the Gene Stealers and now here we are. You couldn't be content absorbing the damage and pain of others. You couldn't find satisfaction in self-mutilation. You couldn't even find that high you were looking for after years of trapping and torturing your victims. Do you honestly think that tormenting me will eventually lead you into that eternal bliss that you're looking for?"

"Yes! Because you are unflappable! Because you are -" He stopped himself, realising he had just walked himself into a corner. The smile on Reaper's face, that calm, sympathising smile, told him he was defeated.

"You realised it too, haven't you? There are no gods. Just mortals. You know that you can get me to crack. I will give you that high. But then, you're going to get bored of it. You see it now, don't you?"

He did... he absolutely did. He had gotten under Reaper's skin even if only a little. He relished that feeling. His raging boner was enough to confirm that. But eventually... that would not be enough. Even if Reaper were to kill him and he were to torment the No One's soul for all eternity, the only person that would truly_be tormented would be him... because in the end... he would feel _nothing.

"Death is not just about losing your life," Reaper explained sorrowfully. "It is utter oblivion, Wilhelm. If you continue on this path, you will face oblivion. Like I said, you will beg me to end your existence." The wolf lifted a finger at him. "So I'll make you a deal. The moment you're ready to turn in, when you're ready to shut off the lights, call it quits and are done with all the pleasures and pains of this existence, you just have to tell me one word."

Whip's eyes widened. "No... you don't mean..."

"That's right. When you're ready to try and see what lies beyond even my sight, all you have to say is..." Reaper then drew his blade. A tremendous chill - the chill of death - erupted from the drawn weapon, spreading all over the chamber and washing over the Gimp who tried to fight and keep his eyes open.

Then, he was suddenly staring down the shaft of the blade just inches from his left eye.

Reaper was hovering to his right, muzzle over his ear.

"... banana."

******

Caleb bolted down the hallway, legs pumping with Trent and the rest of the rhinos acting as an escort.

"Elliot," he shouted into his communicator. "Did you get that?"

"Y - Y - Yeah..." panted the orca. "PA1N is the password. Just... just give me a second to get up there."

"We don't have a second! We've got... what? Three minutes left?"

"Three minutes, nineteen... eighteen... oh fuck... Seventeen seconds."

"Hurry the fuck up!"

Suddenly, Trent seized his shoulder and for a second, he feared betrayal. Then the rhino hoisted him onto his back and he found himself cradling the huge Bondsman's neck.

"This'll be faster," Trent rumbled. "Baseline superpowers and all."

The rhinos charged forward, dipping their heads down as if there were charging. They were moving much faster than when he was taking the lead. It was with some bitterness that he realised that he had been the one holding back their advance.

"Finally..." breathed Elliot. "Okay... Okay... Disarm detonator... got a few checks... Okay. Two minutes and fifty-seven seconds. Password... P-A-1-N. Enter."

Caleb breathed a sigh of relief.

Bzzzzzt!

"Access denied!"

He flinched. "What!?" He glanced down at Trent. "The password was wrong!"

"What?" repeated the rhino. "I set that password on my own unless..." The Bondsman shut his eyes in fury. "Fuck the fucking Gimp! He must've changed it at the last second!"

"Even I heard that from here," Elliot panted. "The Gimp has always been excellent at profiling people like Leon. I'm sure he would've seen Trent's betrayal a mile away and purposefully got him to set the password just so that he could reset it."

Caleb relayed Elliot theory to Trent who cursed a string of expletives so long and so offencive, Caleb was glad there were no children around. "What do we do?"

"Try anything!" pleaded Trent. "I don't want to fucking die!"

"Uhm... Maybe it's something stupid..." Elliot said. "Maybe it's P-A-!-N?"

Bzzzzt!

"Maybe there's a one at the end?" Caleb suggested, his heart racing madly.

"Doesn't work. Only four characters!"

Their small group charged through a pair of double doors. The enormous Gandhi-Class nuclear missile stretched out in front of them. Standing at the base of the missile, he had to crane his head up as his eyes travelled up its long, white pillar, following the guidance fins and to the big red letters that spelled out 'Gandhi' on its flanks. The old Indian flag was printed on the side followed by the big, red cap at the very tip. Elliot was perched on a console about three-quarters of the way up the missile, just a few feet away from the projectile itself. Ominous mist was oozing out of the weapon while red lights were flashing everywhere. Around them, Lance was swinging huge metal poles that he had ripped out from the walls - one in each of his four paws - and keeping the members of Delta Team at bay.

Trent dropped down and let Caleb slide off. "Go to your friend. Try to figure out how to disarm that nuke!"

Nodding in thanks towards the rhino, he charged straight towards the stairs leading up to where Elliot was. Some members of Delta Team noticed him and made to intercept. Trent and his two guards were suddenly there, bowling the Bondsmen over and giving him a clear shot all the way up to Elliot.

There was a sudden, ear-shattering explosion and he turned to see a torrent of ice erupting from one of the walls. The Gimp came crashing ahead of the ice. The blue-white glacier suddenly shattered into a flurry of snow. Jacob stepped through, Mugen Kosetsu drawn.

"Jake!" he cried in relief, already a few steps up.

Legion saw him and waved a paw. "Banana!"

Caleb's lifted an eyebrow. "What?"

The Gimp suddenly roared in frustration. "Stop saying that!"

Jacob turned his gaze back towards the maddened Gene Stealer and just offered a shrug. "Banana."

Again, the Gimp let out an infuriate cry and thrust both his hands forward. Leather strips came shooting out of his fingers. Jacob merely yawned.

"Banana."

The blonde haired, black-furred wolf slashed through the air, sending crescent of white ice screaming towards the Gimp. The force of the blow knocked away the Whip's own projectiles before biting hard into the rhino's shoulder and forcing him to topple.

"Jake! We need to disarm the nuke and there's a password!" Caleb cried. "Got any ideas!?"

Jacob gave him a helpless shrug. "Banana. Banana banana, banana. Banana."

Caleb had no time to figure out why Jacob was suddenly spouting out nonsense and decided he had to solve this himself. He charged up the stairs, watching from the corner of his eye as his brother and best friend fought off the Gimp and the rhinos. He reached Elliot a moment later only for his heart to fall. Elliot had started tearing apart the console and was desperately searching over the chips, circuit boards and wires.

"What're you doing!?" he exclaimed.

"There are millions of combinations for that goddamn password!" Elliot snapped back over his shoulder. "There is no way we could possibly figure it out especially if Jacob-Fatherfucking-Reaper is just saying 'banana' over and over again."

"What if it is banana!?"

"Didn't you hear me!? It's only four letters!"

"Have you tried a banana emoji!" Elliot just have him a deadpan stare. "I'm spit balling here!

The orca suddenly turned towards the screen, his features turning pale. "Oh fuck. One minute, twelve seconds!"

Caleb's heart was racing in his chest. He had to do something! Anything! He glanced to the ground floor. Maybe he could get Lance to tear up the missile. No. There was no time and his brother was still occupied with the Bondsmen still loyal to the Gimp.

"A minute, five seconds!" Elliot wailed, gripping the sides of his head in a panic. "My cock's too big to be turned into radioactive vapour!"

If only his dad was here. Maybe he could definitely disarm the missile.

"Fifty seconds!"

He glanced towards Jacob. There wasn't enough charge in Mugen Kosetsu to freeze the missile.

"Forty seconds!"

He turned to the rumbling doomsday weapon.

And a crazy idea struck him.

"You know what...?" he murmured, stepped up to the very edge of the platform. He dumped the blade and shield of Branding Iron on the floor. "... I alway said I wanted to see what would happen if I used my powers on a nuclear weapon."

Elliot jumped back in terror. "What!?"

"Just open the launch doors!"

Without further warning, he jumped straight off platform, spreading his arms wide. He collided with the flank of the missile, his claws scraping along its flanks. Somehow, he managed to find a handhold even as he slipped a few feet down.

"Thirty seconds!"

Shutting his eyes, he channelled his power into the huge, nuclear device. Already, he could feel his consciousness spreading towards the weapon. Unlike the other objects he had used his powers on, this one was _enormous_and it took time for the ethereal blue-white light to spread all over the missile. The seconds ticked by with agonising slowness, forcing him to watch as the light of his powers spread slowly along the 100 foot ICBM.

"Twenty!" Elliot screamed, his voice reaching all new high pitched. "Nineteen! Eighteen!"

Caleb squeezed his eyes shut as his power fully took hold of the weapon. Like before, he saw a huge network of crystals before him. The first one he hit was just as destructive as the missile itself - a transforming it into a remote control that could summon a mushroom cloud in any direction it was pointed. Given that he was still about eight feet up, when that thing hit the ground, there was a good chance they would still be vapourised.

"Fifteen!" came Elliot's distant cry. "Fourteen! Thirteen! Twelve! Eleven! Ten!"

The sounds of fighting stopped as they all stared at Caleb desperately grappling with the immense weapon of mass destruction.

Deep within the Path of Seven, David stood over a defeated Samson, both fathers stared at one another in horror as Elliot's countdown rang in their ears.

On the ground floor, Lance dropped the metal poles he was holding, gawking what could very well be the end of his life.

Jacob Reaper looked towards the Gimp who stared back at him with a look of utter horror. "Banana," he said.

Far from the base, Spider Queen turned to Dragon Knight who merely shrugged.

Every second that passed, more and more of those pathways to different weapons were snapping away and he was quickly losing options.

"Seven! Six! Five!"

There was no choice.

"Four!"

Most of the other crystals in his visual world of his powers were gone.

"Three!"

It was either take a gamble or stick with the one currently highlighted.

"Two!"

Caleb squeezed his eyes shut and launched off the missile.

"One!"

...

Boom.

******

From the Everest Observatory, hundreds if not thousands of people were gathered to watch the rising sun. They looked to the east, couples cuddling against one another near a fire, families readying their cameras and lone travellers excitedly ready to take selfies. None of them expected the loud rumbling that shook the entire observatory. Screams cut through the observation decks and the immense floor-to-ceiling windows shook ominously. Not too far in the distance, an immense burst of some strange, black-brown cloud erupted upwards in a single, powerful stream. It was so strong that it looked like some sort of terrible, sickened geyser. Tourists and even some experienced observatory staff immediately took pictures.

Then the winds of the Himalayas began blowing the cloud straight towards them.

There was no time for them to move or panic as the miasma quickly flooded the observatory, funnelling through the vents and pumping the gas into the chambers.

One staff coughed while covering her mouth. "Urgh... it smells like... like mushroom soup!"

"It's more like beef stroganoff..." a man winced. "_Rotten_beef stroganoff."

One of the tourists blinked a couple of times. "Dude..." He then began to giggle. "I feel... I feel funny!"

"Bro..." the man's friend laughed. "I'm like... tripping here!"

"Oh my god!" a mother screamed. "It's mushrooms! Psychedelic mushrooms! Someone think of the children!" But as she screamed this, she also took in a good lungful of hallucinogenic air leading to her grinning stupidly and falling tot eh ground in giggling fits.

*******

It was a 'mushroom cloud'.

Quite literally.

An explosion that led to a blast of psychedelic mushroom spores. The blast was still powerful enough to send Caleb flying and crashing into a nearby scaffolding but apart from that and the earthy smell of mushrooms in the air, he was otherwise unhurt. With a groan and a few coughs, he glanced towards the ceiling, grateful that in the commotion, Elliot had managed to open the blast doors so that all the gas could escape somewhere. The air was already starting to clear though he imagined that the Himalayas would start smelling like mushrooms for a while.

Speaking of Elliot.

He hobbled up the steps to where Elliot had ducked behind the console. The orca had managed to take off his pants and his foot long cock was at full mast.

"Dude!" Caleb winced, covering his eyes. "What the hell?"

"Oh man..." Elliot moaned, his eyes a little red from being gassed. "You know... You're not so bad looking, Muscles. Too much of the All-American wolf for me but fuck it, a hole is a hole. Sit on my cock."

"Wolf Christ! No!"

"Fine. I'll suck your dick. I just need something to get this weird taste out of my mouth. It's like a just ate some shitty mushroom soup. I could use some..." He licked his lips. "... some cream."

Caleb backed away a little. "Okay... so you're pretty loose when you're high. Good to know. I think."

Now his concern was for the rest of his team and he quickly bolted down the steps, unaffected by his own weapon. To his surprise, the Bondsmen were all crumpled in the corner, giggling and playing with one another's horns making comments like 'Dude, this thing is so big' or 'It's sooooo pointy'.

Not too far away, Lance was sitting down lifting his paws up to his face and lifting his fingers one at a time.

"Lance?" he asked. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah... Uh... I think I am..." replied his four armed brother. "Hey... Caleb... am... am I like... seeing double?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like... Look. I'm counting to ten. You have ten fingers right?"

"I do but -"

"Yeah... But check it out." Lance held out his upper two paws then began lifting his fingers one at a time. "One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten." Then he lifted his lower paws. "Eleven. Dude... What's with that?"

Caleb blinked a couple of times trying to wrap his head around just what his brother was talking about. "Uh... Lance..."

"Dude! I'm freaking out!"

He leaned down and held his brother's paws. "Lance. Just take it easy okay. I'll be back. Don't freak out."

"Just... Just tell me the sky is blue, Caleb."

"What?"

Lance seized his paws, almost crushing them. "Please tell me the sky is blue!"

"The sky is blue! The sky is blue!"

His brother released him and sighed in relief.

"Banana!"

He turned in surprise at the Gimp who sat huddled in the far end of the corner, huddled into a foetal position. Jacob stood over the Gimp, Mugen Kosetsu in his paws and staring down at the Gene Stealer. Caleb tentatively approached, unsure what a No One on mushrooms would be like.

"Uh... Jake? Are you okay?"

"Sort of," answered Reaper with a shrug. He wasn't smiling. "I think mushrooms kind of makes me a little depressed. At least a little more grounded." He sighed and turned away from the Gimp. "You can't save everyone but sometimes, you just can't help but hope for the best. In that, the Gimp has beaten me. I had hoped he would be better than this and yet... he wasn't. He wins... and loses at the same time."

Caleb wasn't sure what that meant... and just turned towards the blathering Gimp.

"Bananas!" screamed Whip. "There's bananas everywhere! Why bananas!? Why are there all bananas!?"

In that instant, he could not help but pity the Gimp."

******

Deep within their fortress, the Gene Stealers observed what had happened to the Gimp and his troops. Naturally, Beta Team was secured and standing by. When AEGIS moved in, Dragon Knight would swoop in and get the Gimp out of there while Beta Team retreated to a save distance. They could take care of themselves.

Shark Tamer, with his ever-present grin, chuckled softly. "I certainly did not expect that."

"You mean him_breaking_ poor, Wilhelm Whip?" Spider Queen asked.

"Yes. Our dear Gimp was prepared for every eventuality except for the one thing that would crush him; sympathy."

Dragon Knight huffed, small plumes of smoke rising from the dragon's nostrils. "And the reality of his obsession. Reaper was right. Eventually, he'd grow bored of his own desire for pain. The fact that Reaper chose to deliver it through sympathy and pity was just the final nail in the coffin for him."

"No. The final nail in the coffin was the hallucinogenic mushrooms," said Shark Tamer. "Thankfully, we don't need his _mind_for the next phase of our plan. Just his DNA and body." He waved a webbed hand absently over his shoulder. "Let's inform Wendigo. I'm sure he'll be after his feast now that the Gimp has done his job."

Spider Queen lifted an eyebrow at the aquatic geneticist. "You seem pleased after being denied the opportunity to dissect Legion."

"I have far more interesting subjects than him."

The shark's toothy grin grew wider as the screens turned to two dobermans currently restrained somewhere in Toronto, Canada.

"I've never had the opportunity to explore how our transformations would truly affect a family especially one that are already supers."