The first precursor to its coming was the shadow among the clouds. A peculiar shape in the gloomy sky that grew larger with each passing second. Next came the distinct crack of a whip reverberating and echoing throughout the entire village like a storm without the cutting winds. Finally, a roar that brought tremors from the sky down into the ground.

From the shadow in the grey sky burst forth a dragon with crimson scales and molten veins shining through the edges. Smoke and ash trailed behind as the very air surrounding it constantly flickered embers. It glided down slowly until it beat its wings thunderously and landed in the middle of the village. The final flames licked the edges of the nearby buildings but sputtered out quickly.

It sat up on its haunches and let its barbed tail whip apart an entire roof before settling itself down curled around him. His head towered above even the village leader’s two story home. A home of which its main inhabitant now stood in front facing the dragon with a bowed head. Patiently, he waited for the dragon. After several moments passing in relative silence, the massive beast spoke as softly as it could. Even its whisper echoed like a bear’s roar.

“You have received my message.”

Lifting his head, the village leader looked up. 2 irises of flowing flames framed within opaque darkness stared down at him. He nodded before answering as loudly a voice as he could muster. “We have Lord Kyros! The farmer came back from your mountain trail and heralded your coming.”

Kyros slowly twisted its head around to view the village. Inspecting the villagers outside their homes with their heads bowed. Then at the surrounding forests with scrutiny. Turning back down, he growled out.

“I have come to take over this village in my name. I have given advance warning, yet, there are no soldiers. Where is King Sarlas’ knights?”

“We have sent no message and expect no help from Sarlas.”

With a blink, Kyros growled again with further suspicion.

“I have come to claim your village as my own. I demand tribute of meat and grain, at the edge of my claws. Gold and silver, with a threat of my breath. A village I know King Sarlas claims under his protection, yet you do not seek it to protect yourself? Why?”

The village leader began to grin at the inquiry. He responded with almost unconstrained joy.

“Sarlas demands similar tribute from this far away village. Meat and grain at the point of a spear. Gold and silver, with threats of torch and oil. He claims to provide protection, yet we never see soldiers or knights. If ever we see them to collect your tribute, you would shred armor with claws and burn their soldiers alive, would you not?”

In a single growl, Kyros snarled a simple “I would.”

Nodding at the response, the leader answered back.

“Then already we have more protection for the same price from you Lord Kyros of the nearby mountain than from Sarlas across the vast forests.”

Horns were blaring everywhere as panicked screams rose over the city. Blood Drop used the life of his victim to fuel his magic. A spell to show a triumphant image as they displayed the city’s last great hero limping and nearly dead before him. Sinder, the hero of brightest flames, coughed and their skin’s shimmering ember gave out. The sacrificial ritual would soon begin.

Aided by every other nemesis, villain and two-bit super-powered crook in the city with their own agenda, Blood Drop commanded them to start slaughtering the Metropolis’ inhabitants. He started casting his greatest spell yet.

All emergency services were already mobilized to ferry as many people as they could. That final image of Sinder was either a planned move to produce as much death-inducing chaos. Or it was a mistake of bravado as now everybody knew to flee and get out. Several trucks, buses and vans were rushing out. All police had already locked down on private vehicles to prevent unnecessary traffic from slowing down every other service. Most people not being ferried out ran with whatever they could.

Marianne of the Flicker stood next to a season general and his soldiers. He glanced at the last remaining hero in the city before praising her. “Nice job convincing the Mayor to prep all this. How did you guess?” Marianne merely shrugged before answering. “Easy guess. It was just me and Sinder left. He’s beaten every villain out there twice over. Even he couldn’t beat them all at once though. And I’ve never had any delusions of myself. I know I can’t beat them.” The general nodded.

As reports started coming of the various rampages that started, orders started being barked out. Several teams began deployment to stop or at least delay the incoming onslaught. When the general looked back to ask what she was going to do, he saw nothing. The fox mask wearing woman with a dozen differently coloured ribbons, brightly floating around her pure white robe had vanished in the middle of the tumult.

A 4 metre tall exoskeleton powered by the nuclear core of Fission Fitz barrelled down on a crowd trying to enter a bus. A single cop stood several paces in between with their pistol drawn out. Fitz’ plan was to simply smash through the foolish man’s body with their heavy and thick steel plating. As he was about to trample the man, his image flickered and passed right through. A piece of C4 suddenly exploded in the exoskeleton’s knees, buckling the giant’s massive frame and dropping them. A splash of paint to obfuscate the sensors and Fitz would remain disoriented and/or blind long enough for the last of the group to get on the bus or run far enough away.

Hundreds of wolves made of semi translucent shadows barked and gnashed ahead of a single skeleton that pulled their leashes of steel-strong ice. Craster and his shadow hounds were heading to the slums. Barely maintained roads and crashed vehicles made any emergency services impossible to run here. People were running and with their hands unclasped, the shadows ran through the maze of the city’s worst maintained districts to hunt them down any alley possible.

Soon Craster began feeling from his shadow hounds psychic bond the catch and bloody deaths of his victims. He found it odd that very few had caught their prey. They were chasing down multiple scents and they saw the fleeing victims. However, multiple times, the scent would change or they would disappear around corners. He smiled as much as a skeleton can. “Marianne... How very amusing” He rattled. “You can only run through these alleys for so long with your limited illusions. How well can you fight me with that alone?” To his dismay, as soon as her last flicker disappeared, his hounds heard and smelled only a few remaining humans nearby. He cursed himself thinking she would do anything more than run away. Several bullets ricocheted of his body and motorcycle. Stratus Blast laughed at the soldiers trying to stop him. After slaughtering his last two groups, his third was just past a line of barricade of riflemen. Skidding to a stop near the wall, he made a finger gun motion. The energy he had gathered from the multiple people shooting him or the several crashes and trampling he’d gone through started to gather at the tip of his finger. He shouted “Bang!” with an exaggerated recoil and one soldier’s head popped off. He made another to kill the next and nothing but rock nearby burst apart. The third shot blasted a piece of the road behind. Stratus was confused for a moment until he remembered. “Marianne!” he shouted. “Dodge this!” With a fist, he waved at the barricade and produced a wave of explosions that sent them all in the nearby building’s wall. When the dust had settle, the dozen soldiers lay dead in a nearby rubble.

Grinning, Stratus eyed the group that was running away in the distance. As he started to rev his bike, as sudden sputter cut out his engine. Looking down, he saw white foam layered around his engine. The liquid pool that had been placed under him while he was distracted was quickly expanding and covering him in a restrictive foam. He knew that most of his saved up energy was already spent on clearing the barricade. He could get out with bursts of latent energy but it would take time and the motor’s internals would be clogged for hours. With a roar he shouted out to nobody else’s ears, “You bitch!”

The general was coordinating as many supplies and soldiers as he could when he heard a shuffle near him. He looked back and told Marianne. “Take a rest. I actually heard you that time.” Marianne was gasping for air and was doubled over. What little he could see of her skin was covered in sweat while her floating ribbons draped around instead and had a duller luster than before. Marianne shook her head and asked between gasps, “Meredith Mirage is next. Just tell me where you stashed the mirror shards.”

The general passed her a bottle of water and looked away. Knowing he wouldn’t tell her until she could breathe normally, she took the kindness he made looking away. Lifting her fox face mask, she took several generous gulps until it was empty. As soon as her breathing slowed down enough, she saw the general point at a location on the map near him. A location with the marker for Meredith nearby. “Thank you” she said, before seeming to flicker soundlessly out of the tent.