Falcon-One and The Astral Jet raced across the skies of North East America towards The Facility in Lebanon, Kansas.

Proten’s heart raced as he imagined what was probably happening. No comms were coming from The Facility since the may-day so he could only presume the worst.

“Once I have got Ta’Balshén and Wo’Trendsont to safety, I will be free to help,” The Sheriff had said during the flight.

“No arguments from me, Sheriff, do what you gotta do!” Proten replied.

***

Fifteen miles away and it became more obvious what they were heading for. Two, thick black plumes of smoke could be seen rising into the sky.

As they closed the distance even more, it was clear the situation was worse than what it was at The Lodge.

The heavy plumes of smoke were billowing from the hangar and residential wings of The Facility.

Two dozen enemy attacking helicopters were hovering over head, firing down on the buildings or at the personnel fleeing or dropping soldiers down for ground attacks.

“Where are the triplets?” Proten asked.

“On the moon doing NASA work, but I’m sure they’ll be on their way when they find out,” assured The Sheriff.

“Right well we need these birds out of the sky first and foremost,” Proten said.

“I’m better on the ground,” said Terri.

“I know. Land, and back up Flip and The Rodeos. I’ll pilot this until the triplets return.”

“Are these the same fucks as those at The Lodge?” Terri asked before she jumped to the ground.

“Yup, and as Du Zan’s soldiers in China,” confirmed Proten. “Go when you’re ready. I’ll cover you.”

Proten swung Terri’s jet round and started firing on the helicopters. They were metallic-y holographic designed private military looking sorts of helicopters, with short wings protruding from the side with downward facing propellers and large bellies that carried personnel.

He managed to take out two, sending them hurtling to the ground in big fiery parts before the others cottoned on and turned to fire back.

***

The Sheriff had jumped from his jet before it fully stopped moving. His suit was activated and he ran through the crowds of fighting invaders and defending Air Force personnel who guarded The Facility. He also saw faces of GRAB Team soldiers he recognised who were also based at the site.

Occasionally he blasted his stardust beam at someone in his way, but he was focused on one thing only. Finding his boys.

He charged through some doors, sending them flying off from their hinges, running down the corridor. As he got closer to the residential quarters, where there was a lot of destruction, his mind raced and his anxiety swelled within his chest. He hoped they were ok and had found safety.

Ceiling tiles, light fittings and wires and piping that were concealed behind the ceiling had all collapsed onto the floor. Smoke wafted through the halls and bodies lay slumped among the debris.

He got to the suite he lived in with the boys and called out to them. “Trendsont? Balshén? Can you hear me? Boys?!”

“We are here! Back here!” Ta’Balshén cried out from behind his bedroom door. The Sheriff kicked it in, finding the older boy hugging the little Wo’Trendsont down the side of the bed.

“Oh my goodness, are you ok?” he asked, deactivating his suit and crouching to their level. “You did so well boys! You are safe now. Let’s get you out of here.” He stroked their faces, relieved. But there was a warzone out there and he still had to get them out.

Proten continued to fire on at the attacking choppers. They looked incredibly stealthy and frightening, definitely a product of a billionaire’s wallet.

It was the fighting on the ground that he wanted to be in on, not dogfighting in the skies. Down below, the size of ants, he could see people running around amidst explosions and wreckages of downed helicopters.

He could see The Rodeos charging around on the runway riding their animals and he presumed by now The Sheriff was rescuing his boys. Terri was fighting hard and doing what she did best. Moving the ground.

“Incoming!” yelled a familiar female voice through the communicators. Proten looked up and saw The Power of Three rocketing down from space, streaks of purple, orange and yellow trailing behind.

“Thank God! We could really do with your help!” Proten cheered.

“Where do you need us?” Mindy asked.

“Take these helicopters out please. I need to head down and help on the ground. Th- Oh shit...” he cursed, noticing something unsettling emerging from one of the buildings.

“What is it?” Holt asked.

“The Zodiac is here. Can I have one of you to help me with her, actually?”

“I will," announced Blane. “We’re thirty seconds out. What’s the deal with this Zombiac?”

“Er.. I’m not really sure how to explain it. It’s a you-got-to-see-it-to-believe-it kind of thing.”

***

Minutes earlier.

The Secretary watched on the CCTV monitors the destruction happening to The Facility. She watched as the external cams showed The Sheriff running into the building and The Rodeos dishing out their own brand of justice on the grouped infantry. It was obvious Reuben was in berserk mode, which would normally make her uncomfortable, but watching them tear the enemies apart made her grateful for their appearance.

From her office based panic room, she also had interior CCTV pictures showing Flip fighting off a squad of attackers in the cafeteria.

She felt useless for hiding, but a leader can’t lead if they’re dead. And whatever reason for this attack, the leader was almost always a target. Her attention was quickly drawn to the monitor that showed her office, just the other side of the panic room door.

Guy Phoenix, or who she knew to be Anton Akgul, stood with a human-ox hybrid woman, flanked by a dozen tactical looking soldiers. Some were in mustard and some were in white. The white ones belonged to The Purists.

“So this is a joint Purist enterprise?” The Secretary’s Personal Assistant, who was also holed up in the panic room said, seeing the same thing as her boss.

“Looks like it. Du Zan, The Purists and a former Collective member…” The Secretary muttered in response.

“Sounds like the start of a shit joke,” the PA grumbled.

The Zodiac stepped forward in front of the panic room door, reaching for it’s hinges. She pulled with all the power of the Ox, but to little effect.

“I knew I should have got the sliding retracting doors,” The Secretary said shaking her head, sighing a bit with relief. It bought them more time.

The Ox-woman changed tact and the pair watched on the screen as she transformed into a Hare-woman mix.

“Ahh shit,” The Secretary said, realising what was coming next.

The Zodiac started to tear apart the flooring just by the door, burrowing through the floorboards, all while Guy/Anton and the soldiers watched on.

The Sec and the PA didn’t have long. The Zodiac was soon in the floor itself, making good speed.

The Secretary stood and watched the floor, listening intently and imagining where The Zodiac would be coming up from. Within a minute, sure enough, the floorboards shifted and began pushing up. Up came The Zodiac, now suddenly in Snake form, leaping up and into the room, coiled and ready to pounce.

“Please don’t hurt her,” The Secretary pleaded instantly, referring to her PA.

The Snake-woman hissed aggressively. “Go thhhhhhrough the hole,” she instructed.

Gulping, she looked at her assistant and obliged, stepping into the floor cavity and crawled under the panic room door. She heard a bloodcurdling scream come from behind her which caused her to flinch and begin to cry.

“Thank you Zodiac. You are needed outside. Here, Ma'am. Let me help you,” a voice she hadn’t heard for years said, with a hand being stretched out.

“Don’t even touch me or I swear to God…”

***

“Stick with me, I’m going to get you out of here,” The Sheriff tried to assure the boys. He led them back through the corridors they had often ran through playing, but were now navigating over rubble.

“Mind your step, Ta’Balshén, alright? Not far to go. You know where we are now?” he asked. “This is it up here. We’ll go through here and have to make a run for the jet!”

“Proten, that woman is a snake, right?” Blane said, seeking clarification for what he was seeing. “I mean, it’s ok. I’ve seen crazier things, but I just need to know if I see it right. How’d that even happen?”

“Just you wait. She’s got more tricks up her sleeve.”

Proten and Blane ran towards her, ignoring the battle going on around them. This was their battle now.

“We meet again, then?” Proten yelled.

“Well we figured we were owed a tour of your facility. After you know, you made yourselves at home at ours,” she said, twisting her amulet.

“Touché!”

“What the frick is that?!” Ta’Balshén cried out as the darted across the asphalt runway.

“Ignore it and just keep running towards the-”

“But it’s Blane and Proten… and that thing.” The boy stopped in his tracks and pointed at the Chinese looking dragon beast they were fighting with. “I can help them.”

“No chance. No no no no no. I am putting you in the jet with your brother.”

“Dad, I can do this. Trendsont’ll be safe in the jet.” The Sheriff deactivated his suit and crouched in front of Ta’Balshén, completely blocking out the chaos around him. This was the first time he had heard the boy he took in as his own call him ‘dad’. The emotion and the realness of the sentiment caught Do’Lânqwa, the man under the suit, completely by surprise. He stroked his foster kid’s face, a tear rolling down his own.

“Son,” he said, son being a term he used all the time, having considered Ta’Balshén his own since he was laid up in the hospital bed after Rio De Janeiro. “We have not practised for a while. I am concerned you are not ready.”

“But dad, you have no idea what I am capable of. I have actually been practicing a lot. With the triplets. They have been helping me. I am ready,” he said, smiling eagerly and nodding to reassure him. His dad.

“Guys, we have a problem,” Terri declared over the communicators, killing the moment. “The Secretary’s missing from her panic room. Justine, her PA is dead. There’s a little tunnel under the door into the room.”

Do’Lânqwa squeezed his eyes shut. She needed him. He had to do something. “Balshén, go. I believe in you. I love you.”

“I love you too dad.” And the teen ran off.

Do’Lânqwa reactivated his suit and picked Wo’Trendsont up. “Sorry little guy, but you will be safe in here. I will be back for you.” With the doors shut, The Sheriff initiated the Safe Haven Protocol on his jet, which sent it to a fixed spot safely just inside of the Earth’s orbit. He had a bird to catch.

“Do we know where they went?” The Sheriff asked.

“Negative. There’s more bad news. There’s an alarm going from the cells.”

“Fo’Vylrian is down there!” The Sheriff announced.

“What? Since when?” Proten cried out in dismay.

“I made a deal to get him moved, to see if he would co-operate more,” The Sheriff admitted.

“I’m going to go down there,” said Terri.

“Terri, you need to be very careful.” The Sheriff warned. “If I find The Secretary in time I will come and back you up.”

“If Anton’s got her, I’m coming with you, Sheriff. He’s mine!” Proten announced.

“I’ve just sent my son to assist you. You stay there and look after him!”

“Sheriff, he doesn’t need the help. You should see what he’s doing right now,” Proten marvelled.

The Sheriff looked up as he ran back towards The Facility, but what he saw made him slow down and appreciate what was happening. But he was still concerned. “Blane, he has never replicated anything that big before,” he warned.

Ta’Balshén had successfully replicated himself into the appearance of and with the strengths of The Zodiac and was now looking like a dragon too. Ta’Balshén and The Zodiac were going at each other ferociously- snarling, biting, slashing and roaring at one another.

“I’ve got him, don’t worry. You both go and find The Secretary,” Blane said, referring to Proten too in that.

The boy was doing amazingly. Do’Lânqwa couldn’t deny it. “Fine. Proten, you search the buildings. I will fly up and around, see if they have made it out,” The Sheriff instructed.

“Why does that sound like I have more work to do?” The Stretchy One muttered.

The Astral Sheriff took off, shooting up into the sky to get a full view of the vast site below him.

***

Terri ran into the cell block, and began wishing she hadn’t. On the floor in front of her, lay the bodies of seven mustard coloured soldiers, each with an unhealthy amount of faeces staining below their waists. She reluctantly examined their faces and her stomach churned with disgust. They were gray and pale and almost skeletal, the skin drawn tight over their facial features.

She stepped over them and continued into the main block and found Fo’Vylrian surrounded by eight Purists.

Out of his cell.

“Wh-what’s going on?” she asked as her arrival caught their attention.

“These men really want me to go with them,” Fo’Vylrian replied. He gave them a cautious side eye.

“You know you don’t have to,” Terri said.

“That’s what I tried to tell those men you probably stepped over.”

“Smelt like you did more than just that...”

“I felt threatened,” he suggested defensively.

“Ok, well these people are not good people, Fo’Vylrian.”

“Shut up bitch!” barked one of the soldiers. Fo’Vylrian glanced in his direction and the vulgar mouthed soldier began vomiting violently all over himself, doubling over in agony.

“I’m not quite sure what a bitch is, but I don’t like it for you. See... Terri, is it...? These people are freeing me. And you are affiliated with those locking me up. To me, that makes you the not good people, yes?”

“I'm sure it’s not a permanent thing. There’s an end in sight to all this for you.”

“Yeah, I know… That is today. I didn’t realise at first but these people are offering me a freedom, so I’m taking it. And you’ll just have to step aside.”

“I can’t.”

The soldiers raised their guns, but Fo’Vylrian put a hand out to warn them off.

“I don’t want them to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you. Not with new life living within you. I wish you nothing but good luck. We’ll meet again.”

The Purists led Fo’Vylrian off past Terri who was helpless to stop it. Helpless, and clouded by confusion.

There is a life in her? Living in her? Does he mean a baby? How could he know that?

The vomiting Purist was still kneeling over, vomit pouring out of him. How does he still have so much coming out of him? She swung a kick at him and sent him flying backwards, knocking him out cold before rolling him on his side so to not completely choke on his vomit.

“Fo’Vylrian’s in the wind. Do not approach if you see him,” she said to everyone through her communicator.

“I have just spotted The Secretary on the roof,” The Sheriff said. “We will get Fo’Vylrian another day, don’t worry.”

“That’s what he reckoned too,” Terri added.

“Err… Sheriff? I need to know what roof?” Proten cut in impatiently.

“Of the main building. They have just come through the fire escape door.”

“Copied. I’m going to reach up, and you fly down. We’ll meet in the middle.”

“They are not alone Brad.”

“I know, I’m counting on it.”

The two converged on the roof simultaneously, coming to rest between The Purists, The Secretary and Guy Phoenix.

“Everyone,” Mindy called up. “We’ve got a second wave coming in.”

“Then we go again,” responded Effie. "Save The Secretary you two. We’ll handle the rest.”

To be continued...