[ Mayhem Crisis ] The League of Villains Strike!

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JojocIaw

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Due to Azula's mind being elsewhere during her attack, as well as the flames themselves blocking the man before her, she did not witness his leap above her attack. Azula however did deduce that he jumped just above the range and landed as the flames dispersed. As he landed, his mask would fall from his face, bouncing ever so slightly off of the concrete below them before coming to a rest.



Azula's eyes widened as she immediately recognized the man before her as none other than Jeremiah himself. After all this time, just as she began to doubt ever meeting him, subconsciously even going as far to doubt his existence, he appears before her.



"W-Wait! You're the man I've been searching for. Mr. Five Fingers has sent me on a mission to retrieve you and take you back to him."



Azula immediately pulled out the phone given to her by Mr. Five Fingers. She began to search through the contact list to find Mr. Five Fingers information. Once she did this, she did not hesitate to call him. The phone rang several times before being sent to voicemail, so Azula just left a message with their coordinates.


723 words so far
 

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Pucci slipped around a mound of rubble piled on the street. His breath was ragged, catching in his throat, so he stopped for a moment to rest. His weary eyes darted around as quickly as they could. Had anyone seen him? Such a terrible thing didn’t seem to be the case, but the priest was never one to play things out haphazardly. Or at least, not when he was able to help it.

He slouched low as he heard the sound of footsteps running past, as likely to be an escaped prisoner thirsting for blood as it was a police officer. Pucci ran his long fingers against his sleeve, feeling D4C’s guard nustled against his forearm. His teeth clenched, mentally preparing himself for more violence. He readied his legs to lunge, sweat gnawing at the side of his head, and the steps receded away.

His body loosened with a sharp exhale through his nose, and he slouched once again. His mind raced through the implications of this day. Where would he go, he wondered with thoughts of his job. The heroes who had seen him were killed with the fall of Artillery’s base, but what of her? The police officers that made their arrest? He tried in vain to find solace in the notion that perhaps they were killed in the chaos that had swallowed the Boulevard, but the priest was much too intelligent for such lofty wishes.

He climbed to his feet and began marching toward the abandoned street, unaware of the shadow looming behind him...
 

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Jeremiah's eyebrow raised in suspicion. Was it true that five finger had sent someone to capture him? That would make sense considering he put a bounty on himself so that he can escape. However, Jeremiah's goal was almost complete, now that he was able to escape, the only thing required was to fake his death. How so? Would it even be possible?

The life of Jeremiah was truly a conundrum, a man who was created for the sole purpose of becoming the Symbol of Peace has now been tested with. He was taught to put everything on the line for the sake of himself so that he would then be able to create true peace, but from what it looks like he won't be able to achieve that without killing someone. Those who sacrifice nothing will not be able to achieve anything. Therefore, in order to keep his identity secret, he wagered the lives of the innocent. Friend or foe, it didn't matter.

Now that he was able to return to five finger, he would be able to work as the organ donor and actively search for "The Death Cure". He had to cover his tracks. Immediately he pulled out his own phone and sent out a message to his classmates and professor.

Hello 1C,

I'm typing this while being kidnapped. It's dark, I have no idea where this place is or where I'm going. I found the true culprit of all this chaos, beyond not only just the spreading sickness but the mastermind of the current chaos. Tomura was only a mask so that the "Organ Donor" can avoid public attention. He and Darkseid are the real ones behind this. I'm attaching my location, please come find me, HELP!

Jeremiah sent the email, his location attached, to Hakumen (@BusinessManTeno) Anakin (@BZA) and Braum. He then got prepared to be taken to Five Finger.

"If you are lying, I will erase you from existence..."
 
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"If you are lying, I will erase you from existence..."

Azula understood his lack of trust, in fact she would also be suspicious if someone she had never met approached her the way she did Jeremiah. Nevertheless, she had a mission to accomplish.

"I've got nothing to gain by lying to you Jeremiah. You will see my words contain truth. Now, let us absquatulate, Jeremiah...

Azula would motion to the portal that had spawned before them. She would lead by stepping through the portal first to show it was in fact harmless. Once through she would look around, immediately noticing Mr. Five Finger and the silver haired woman. It would appear as if their meeting was done. Wondering what they could have spoken about, she decided it was best not to ask, at least right now. Mr. Five Finger had no reason to trust Azula with any information, despite her completing the goal assigned by him. Trust is hard to earn by people like him who have been in this business for years. Betrayal was a language in which he should know all too well.

Azula would begin to walk towards the two, Jeremiah should be trailing her any second. The smirk on her face should be a signal to Mr. Five Finger of a successful mission.




1,091 words so far.

Exiting the thread.
 
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Punk Hazard

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The Priest continued trudging toward the east. He did his best to ensure his senses did not falter, remaining sharp to the dangers lurking in the chaos. Pucci hit a street, not far from where he remembered the hospital to be. The heroes’ desire to maintain their public approval would make caring for the injured their top priority. Right now, nowhere in LA would be safer than the hospitals.
Pucci glanced over his shoulder, unable to shake the uncomfortable feeling of being followed that had pierced him throughout the day. He spotted nothing but smoking rubble, and the bodies strewn about them. He swallowed, feeling a knot tightening in his stomach before coming undone with a sigh. Such a sight would become more and more common, Pucci reasoned, on this journey toward Heaven. He was closer to his goal, more souls claimed.

“DIO,” Pucci clamored, his palm pressed against his right temple. “Is this what you envisioned? I wish I could understand things as you did.”

“So did I,” a voice called, interrupting Pucci from his thoughts.

The priest looked up, his face twisting into an intense glare, as he spotted Artillery landing before him.

“I definitely misjudged you,” Artillery spat. “You...you’re nothing more than another thug. What you tried to do back at the base. Are you even a follower of DIO?”

“Watch your mouth, woman.”

Pucci’s brow arched in anger, and the priest marched forward until he was close to the hero. The outburst was unusual for Pucci, but Artillery’s slander sent a swell of anger boiling inside of him.

“You couldn’t begin to understand what I knew of DIO.”

“What you knew?” she shot back, her own anger rising in tandem with the priest’s.

Pucci’s lips pursed, and he pointed an accusing finger at Artillery.

“You...you were merely infatuated with DIO. To call you a follower would be a grave insult to his name, like spitting in the face of God himself.”

“You throw away lives,” Artillery accused. “DIO would never stand for the deaths of the innocent, but along strolls a maniac like you that couldn’t give a rat’s ass.”

Pucci snorted in defiance, his laughter setting Artillery aback for a moment before her fury returned.

“To call you a follower of DIO. That would be a grave insult,” Pucci chuckled. “Like spitting in the face of God himself.”

“Ah-ha.” Artillery shook her head. “I can’t tell what you’re more full of.”

“You are blind to the truth. Perhaps your tenure as one of these facade-touting heroes has clouded your judgement and devotion to DIO.”

As Pucci talked, he slipped a small, black journal from his coat pocket. Bound in leather, the priest began to flip through the pages.

“What the hell is that?” Artillery demanded.

Pucci simply cut his eyes at her, and turned the book to show her the pages. The hero’s heart sank as her eyes ran over the words on the page. Her chest visibly rose and fell, and her lips parted ever slightly.
 
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As Hakumen stood there, becoming more and more ill, transforming out of his hand, Mai stood there. Her body looking as if its passing away. Hakumen visored covered his face so you couldn't see just how bad off he was.

"Mai... You have been an amazing partner.. Once we back at Horizon, we should make a group.. Different personalities, Different abilities.. Only a few of us.. 4, 5 or even maybe .. 6? ... Six? Yes...A group full of Six heroes"

The tone in Hakumen voice changed.. Its as if he was trying to convince himself. A man so prideful, yet so vulnerable. You could see tears role down the eye Mai formed on the blade. She wasnt around Hakumen much but she know parting words when she hears it.. her eyes closing way before his. He had just a little bit more strength than her. He yells out for help, but he made sure the other people he just encountered was out of site.

"(Everything has a limit.. So this too must be punishment for my sins? Was the least I could do, the best I could do? No! I still have things I must do.. But... Can I do them?) *cough* I guess when I open my eyes again, I will either be where the Gods placed me, or if the Gods wish to spare me. I will be back in reality.. Either one is Good to me.
 

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Thirty-six souls. The path to Heaven is opened with the sacrifice of thirty-six souls. I surmise that the soul of a sinner would be ideal. I have seen the sinners, I have lived among them. I have seen what they can do when they must resort to the most primal extincts of survival.

My mother, with all her piety and purity, was consumed by hopeless foolishness. I despised it. How could I not? We were clung to the bottom rung of society, yet she held in her heart room for others. Kindness, I believe she called it. Our bellies empty, crying, she’d spend what little we had on the sick. Children, the elderly, even rotten strays. Isn’t that foolish? How could I not despite it?

My father, on the other hand, did nothing but take. With time, he even took my mother. For him, I held a personal hate intertwined with anger. But, foolish as it may be to say, I think I liked him better than my father. I never saw him work. I never saw him earn any that he had, what little of it he could snatch in his grimy hands. In that bottom-rung town we were forced to dwell him, my father’s way was honest. It was correct. I could not say I admired my father, no, but I could say that I respected him.

In the waste bin of society, I saw what my father was willing to resort to. His ways led to the death of him, but that just made them the means of prolonging the inevitable. They extended his survival. Observing him, how he managed to thrive while my mother wilted. Yes, I dare say the soul of a sinner possesses a power beyond the pious. Ideal as sacrifice on the path to heaven.


Artillery’s eyes remained fastened to the pages of DIO’s notebook. Pucci looked on intently, silently. He found himself unable to gauge her emotions, but he knew the contents of those pages like the back of his penis. DIO’s journal opened to the tune of a daunting task. The sacrifice of thirty-six souls, the first step toward the path toward Heaven.

Pucci wrestled with the task for some time. The right to claim a life was one that lay only in hands Almighty. For a priest, with the mere hands of a mortal flawed and tattered, the task was surely impossible. The path to heaven was locked away, the key buried under the spillage of blood. Unavoidable, yet impossible.

But perhaps, Pucci discovered, there was such a way.

“It can’t be...DIO’s power,” Artillery said out.

Her exclamation broke Pucci from his thoughts. Her eyes remained glued to the pages.

DIO’s Quirk, as Pucci would come to learn, was a dark manipulation of the body. Of his own, at his mastery, he achieved immortality. A body, eternally young, so long as it fed on that of others. A power that made the spillage of blood a necessity. In his heart, Pucci believed this to be the key to DIO’s wisdom. He was unlike all men, the closest to God.

The priest was sure that Artillery’s discovery of this Quirk, of the things DIO did to preserve his own life, would shake her. How much did she truly know, he wondered. To be this oblivious to the true nature of DIO’s ability, of what he had to do. It was to understand DIO’s position, that Pucci had come to understand his own.
 

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A serious blow had been dealt to the League of Villains. The white-clad hero had gotten the best of Draven and Diego, dealing them both serious and life threatening wounds that were slowly draining the life out of them. Draven laid unconsciously on the ground, and Tomura knew if he didn't get the medical attention he needed soon, his life would be lost. It was time to retreat and regroup, this wasn't going to be the place the any of the members of the League would be defeated. Tomura signaled for his companions to gather themselves up and to haul ass out of the area before several other heroes made their debut. Three out of the four would needed medical attention and soon if they were going to continue to prosper and amass the necessary forces required to take the fight to the Hero Association. It was a shame, Tomura couldn't kill the hero who had challenged them, but he knew their was a time and a place for everything, and losing his game pieces so early on would prove detrimental to his cause. In order to protect the things that mattered to him, and to annihilate the things that didn't, he would need much more power and above all resources.

Julio, the only one who hadn't been harmed in the exchange of blows, took the actions needed in order to save Draven by taking control of his unconcious body. Promptly, he defused from the body of the villain he was occupying and in an attempt to sustain Draven's life, did the only thing he could which was to fuse with and take control of Draven's battered body. Julio would take over Draven's body and used his own life-force to sustain Draven as the League escaped from the area. Diego meanwhile would do the same, defusing from the villain whom he had occupied and would fuse with Tomura, stifling the bleeding he was undergoing. If there was anyone who could grant them the recourse they needed, Tomura figured it would be Mr. Five Fingers. Their relationship had been strained, but in Tomura's eyes, it was the one and only option they had if he was going to find someone capable of supplying the means they would need to survive and live to fight another day. Now was the time, for Tomura to confront Five Fingers and come face to face with the consequences that awaited him. They had not had contact since the attack on Horizon University. Desperate, Tomura was ready to finally face the music in order to save Draven's life. He not only owed Draven for saving his life back in Silicon Valley, but was fully committed to reforging the relationship between him and Five Fingers. He had failed once to gain the backing of such an illustrious underworld figure, he vowed to never fail again.

-Exiting this Thread, and moving to Fisherman's Wharf (Black Market)-
 

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“Have you begun to understand?” Pucci asked the hero.

She shot him a look, her face twisted with contemplation.

“This is DIO’s legacy,” the priest affirmed. “Isn’t it fitting for the path to Heaven to be left by the man closest to it?”

Pucci stepped closer to Artillery.

“This is what it truly means to be DIO’s follower, hero.”

Artillery clenched her jaw, picking up on the venom particularly laced on the word “hero.” She inhaled deeply, and handed Pucci the journal.

“What exactly are you saying, villain?” she asked, sarcastically returning Pucci’s bitter energy.

“When I took on this task, I was like you, Artillery. The thought of taking a life...”

Pucci paused, his eyes drifting to the floor for an instant before locking back onto Artillery’s, filled with determination.

“Joshua. Chapter 6, verse 21. ‘Then they devoted all in the city to destruction, both men and women, young and old, oxen, sheep, and donkeys, with the edge of the sword.’”

Artillery’s face twisted in confusion.

“First Samuel, verse 2 of chapter 15,” Pucci continued. “‘Now go, attack the Amalekites and totally destroy all that belongs to them. Do not spare them; put to death men and women, children and infants, cattle and sheep, camels and donkeys.’”

“Great, I’ve always missed bible study.”

Pucci ignored her belligerence.

“The right to take lives may be one reserved for the Almighty, but is one He has shared to those who do His work. Do you understand Artillery? To take a life, in the name of God, is righteous. I am merely His servant. Taking the lives of sinners, even if it splits me to the bone, is a task I must undertake in the name of the Lord.”
 

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"So you finally came over to the other side huh?"

A voice in the distant spoke. The surroundings white and pale as white christmas. Nobody around but himself, with no end. Hakumen simply stood there. After blinking once, it was like a beautiful paradise. No longer the white void, but animals, waterfalls. This was always his his vision of "Home". Walking towards the water he began to admire the beauty of the area around... It then snapped to him, that he was on the battle field..

"Wait! Where am I-" Hakumen spoke, quickly turning around. Simply to be met with a mere image of himself.

"Sit down. Lets talk.. I mean im only here because you wanted me too. Right.. Brother?"

As Hakumen stood there speechless, he was met with Jin, his twin brother, who passed away at the battle of Mascarade. One of the harshest villian bust, and he was one of the tragedies.

"Jin..." Hakumen said with a soft tone.
"Awh come on man! no time for sad faces!. Its good to see you.. I mean.. Not under these circumstances, but .. you know" Jin said, kind of clueless as to what to say. The Scenery once again changed to that of a dark stary night around a beautiful bon fire. Hakumen sitting on a log right across from his younger brother. The atmosphere slightly gloomy, hearing the crackles of the fire breaking down the wood.

"Im sure you have regrets" Jin said in a soft tone. "First it was your bestfriend, then your little brother. But dont let that stir up your determination." Jin continued to speak. "Even if you was there you couldnt have prevented what was meant to -" "You're wrong! I could have. If I was there, I could have prevented it... With my life" Hakumen interrupted. Once again the silence filling the air.

"I see. So you wanted me to be in the same spot as you are? The suffering? So you wanted the easy way out brother.". Jin spoke, as he got up, gazing into the stars. "Well, I can tell you that you are almost there.. Not quite yet, but you are close. You are in the passing planes. None of this is real.. Well it is, but its not. Its real to you cause its your safe place. Hakumen what happened, let it go. I been looking over you and your resolve is just as strong as mothers and papa.. and even mine. I didnt go anywhere.. We are twins so you are me and Im you Remeber?. Im proud of you big brother, and yes I do miss you" Jinn said with a cheeky smile.

This time silence filled the air, but tears also filled Hakumens eyes. With his visored covering his face you couldnt see the tears, but Jinn knew. Jin knew that Hakumen sometimes felt lonely. "Believe it or not, you made some good friends. That Mai chick. A keeper, and Anakin.. That Black kid though. I dont trust him. Keep your eye up.. Other than that dont stop what you are doing. Its important to keep pushing. By the way, I like the name Six Heroes.. buuuuuuut... Sometimes Justice isnt always delivered from Heroes. Sometimes you need those who are above Gods to deliver punishment.. Titans.. Six titans sounds better" Jinn spoke with a soft smile. "Either way, Help is on the way brother, you arent crossing over just yet"

Hakumen having tears fill up so much, had to take off his visored. He was just happy to hear his brothers voice. It made him that much stronger. Looking up as tears continued to fall, he was once again met with the white void. Brother gone and all. It was then, Hakumen noticed.. "MAI!" He peeked up, he had to get back to reality.. The question is, when he do. Will it be too late? He heard names calling out to him from the other planes.. It seems like his brother was right..
 
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“Sinners?” Artillery asked sharpy. “You tried to kill innocent people.”

Pucci thought for a moment, before finally speaking. “Truth be told, my dear, there is no such thing as ‘innocent.’ Humans are imperfect. In the eyes of God, we have all sinned. We are all tainted.”

Artillery pondered over Pucci’s words, looking at the priest intently. “What...are you suggesting?”

Pucci exhaled forcibly. “I do not target ‘innocents.’ For some time, I grappled with the thought of killing anyone in general. But doesn’t it make sense? We purge this world of concentrated sin, and the path to Heaven will be open to us again.”

Pucci stepped around Artillery, looking into the distant sky before turning back to face the hero.

“The greatest sin that can be committed is blasphemy. To disrespect God. These heroes, the facade that DIO inspired you to hate as much as we did...that is the greatest skin. These heroes are charlatans, Artillery. They’ve pulled humanity away from God for their own sakes.”

Pucci reached forward and grasped Artillery’s hand gently.

“Look around at this. It’s the heroes’ inability to purge these villains that this much destruction and havoc has been provoked. It’s not accidental. With no villains, these heroes lose the devotion they’ve so greedily swallowed.”

The two looked at each other intently. The air settled around them, pregnant with an uncomfortable tension.

“I only target these ‘sinners,’” Pucci said, severing the tension for a moment. “I do not target the ‘innocents.’ But, if such a person were to end up demised because of my mission, then I am able to live with it. Just as DIO lived with what he had to do to survive. This cannot be done without conviction, Artillery. Do not mistake a foolish heart for a pure one.”

Pucci inhaled and released an audibly heavy breath, and took a step back from Artillery. He broke eye contact with her, looking at the journal, his fingers gripped against the thick black leather. He had not realized how worked up he had gotten, a momentary reciting of prime numbers in his mind bringing him back down.

Artillery carefully considered the priest’s words. Could what he was saying be the truth? The facade of heroes needed to end, of that she was sure, just as DIO championed. But Pucci’s methods, could she truly devote herself to such a thing? To what this man defined as his conviction? Was her heart that she once thought to be pure in actuality that of a fool’s?
 

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There are times when a man’s life changes course rapidly. One time is during puberty as their bodies and mind shift into who they are supposed to become. Another time is when a man has found his purpose. Everything comes into full alignment. Everything falls into place. The moment that the portal opened, is when everything clicked for him in his mind. Time slowed down for him, the sounds of fire and the chaos rambling around Hollywood Boulevard were muted. His sights became whitened, as he became hyper focused on the portal. The portal was a symbol, a huge symbol for him and he instantly thought back to a lesson his grandfather gave him on symbols.


Japan, Kyoto 2005

It was a rainy day in kyoto. Three figures could be seen making their way through a small shanty town. Despite the rainy clouds, the moon could be seen shining through the clouds, beaming a luminous light down. Small puddles of collected rain formed puddles that reflected the neon street signs. The street the three figures walked down was a small market. The trio of the individuals had on straw hats, covering their eyes and projecting an aura of mystique. One was much smaller than the other two, indicating that the other individuals was an adult, and one was just a child.

“Lifeline, Mirage, where are we going?” The little boy asked, raising his head, revealing himself to be Jeremiah as a little boy.

“I’m taking us to find our newest recruit to your grandfather’s new league. Take this serious, both of you!” Lifeline said with heavy west Indian accent.

‘Y'know, I don't take myself too seriously. I don't take myself anywhere, really, I... man, I need to get out more.’ Mirage said nonchalantly. He wore a simple body suit, riddled with funny looking protrusions throughout.

“Miss Ajay, I have a question. I know why my grandfather left the Hero Association, but why did you guys leave?” Jeremiah asked curiously. He didn’t understand why his grandfathers new followers were so hell bent on destroying the hero association.

“…Politics. After a certain point, it’s no longer about saving lives, it becomes about money. The heart and spirit of a hero gets sucked out, as politics get in the way. Quirk laws were created during a time when quirks were still misunderstood. There are certain quirks out there that make certain people by nature what society would say a ‘bad guy’.”

“What do you mean?” Jeremiah asked, confused. He really did not understand.

“Take your quirk by example, Weak Force. Your grandfather’s usage of the quirk was restricted, as it should be, but the politics of the association forced him inside of a box. They would never allow someone like him, who exerted true heroism and true integrity to be the Symbol of Peace because it doesn’t fit an “image”. Some people are generally dealt a bad hand in life, does that mean they should be prosecuted. There was a certain incident that took place last year that ultimately opened my eyes to the true nature of the Hero association. Seeing these so called ’Symbols’ really hammered in just how political this society is.” Lifeline said.

“For me, it was that same incident that made me question the lines that Heroes must abide by. There are certain times, when killing a villain are inevitable. There were hundreds of villains captured at one time, some of them deserved to be executed. Before the rise of the Hero Society, there were lines that the police force could cross when it came to protecting a life, they could kill someone if it meant protecting people. “ Mirage said, annoyed.

“I see…so what are the points of the Symbol of Peace and Symbol of Chaos then?” Jeremiah asked, trying to wrap his head around everything.

“To show heroes what NOT to be and what to be, they created these standards to show people how to act and use them as personified guidelines. That’s why your father and grandfather push for you so hard to become the Symbol of Peace, to redefine what it means to be a Hero. That is the purpose that they have given you…” Lifeline told Jeremiah.

“We have arrived…this is it…Crypto’s LAIR!” Mirage said as they put a stop to a massive door, lodged into the ground. There was japanese kanji written all over it.


Present Day

Looking at the portal, he thought about the conversation he had with Lifeline about symbols. For him, this door was the Symbol of the end of Jeremiah’s life as he knew it. Whenever he decided to return, he knew deep in his soul that it would be, he would not be the Jeremiah the students at Horizon knew, but the highest and strongest form of him self. Once he achieved the Death Cure and saw the world a little bit more, he knew that his target would be the institutional system of oppression that was the hero society.

He didn’t ask for this life, he didn’t ask to be given brain cancer, he didn’t ask to be forced in an abusive household where he would train for hours on hours to become the symbol of peace. But now he would have to surrender to all of that, there was nothing else left for him but to give in to the life that everyone else had decided for him. Taking a deep breath to let go of everything, he stepped forward into the portal, without looking back.
 

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Hollywood Boulevard is one of the most popular tourist destinations in Los Angeles, and has become a legendary area for meeting famous professional heroes. Perhaps the blood of California, this district not only fuels the economy of the state but it manages some of the vital lifelines of California such as the largest and oldest bank in the western hemisphere. Important to the livelihood of thousands of people, this area is flooding with hero agencies dedicated to keep the district safe as well absorb all the influx of crimes that tends to happen. Only recently, has this district felt victimized in a long time.​



Crisis Conclusion
→ Reactor managed to eradicate all sources of radiation plaguing the streets of Hollywood Boulevard. The escaped convicts were either defeated, immediately heading back to prison to where they would receive any medical attention if need be, or they managed to escape after causing such destruction. Professor Grey would locate all his students, with the assistance of Artillery the professional hero, except for two students. Belarus and Jeremiah were missing, although the former was disappeared for obvious reasoning. The latter? Did he die amongst the chaos? Or? Did the student divulge himself into something darker? Only time could heal those wounded and reveal the truth to many questions held.​
 
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