Kelly Hart, Magi-tech Gunslinger (A) Lvl 14, outside of Amarillo, TX

Kelly eyed the roadblock at the end of the highway warily. Someone had taken great care to make the pile of cars blocking the narrow passage under a rail bridge look like a natural pileup. After several weeks avoiding such things, she was becoming an expert at spotting these kinds of traps. Which left the only question that mattered at the moment, were the people of Amarillo hostile and looking to rob, rape, and take, or was this a defensive measure?

“Another one?” Tae’ long, the six armed wolverine type of creature that had come through an alien portal to land in a hostile New York City, stepped up to her left and asked.

The furry alien woman stood barely to Kelly’s shoulder, yet she’d seen her fight toe to toe with monsters many times her size. Beady black eyes stared up at her from behind a light tan furred face. Having seen the look she was giving her many times before, Kelly saw the amusement in her posture.

Tae’ long’s people, all twelve hundred of them that remained, ended up going Rogue when they left the big city. Since then they have taken many human lives in hopes of reaching a safe haven. Kelly, and a handful of her other human friends knew the odd little furry people had no choice, so they’d all promised to help them as long as they could.

Kelly had long since fallen in love with the cubs. While still wanting to return to Montana to seek the fate of her family, she knew she wouldn’t leave the Wolverine people until they had found that safe haven. For a moment, a pang of regret for all the people that had died getting this far gripped her heart. She shook her head slightly and fixed Tae’ long with a smirk.

“Yeah, definitely another ambush site, though it looks long abandoned. Which means everyone died, or they’re really good at masking their presence.”

Tae’ long huffed her agreement, “Let’s assume the worst. Gael’ an, Do’onal, same plan as last time.” the elder Polvari, the actual name of her people, directed the warriors that flanked them. They trundled off in their weird, but efficient way, a pair of spears and shields held in four of their six hands. Soon, another dozen of her soldiers had come up and spread out across the street, taking up stealthy positions behind the various wrecked cars and trucks that littered the highways.

As they were getting into position, Kelly spotted movement at the roadblock. Her hands flicked immediately to the pair of magi-pistols on her hips, something she acquired from a quick dungeon run on the way through the Appalachians. She infused mana into the pistols, the mechanisms spinning, shifting and clicking into her preferred configuration. When complete, the gentle thrumming of energy coursing through the pistols told her they were ready.

As she turned to face the roadblock, more movement revealed itself to be a gangly looking man with tattoos covering his body, crawling up his neck, trickling across his head and face in a mish-mash of random images and patterns that didn’t seem to have any rhyme or reason. A pair of baggy jeans hung around his knees, exposing a pair of filthy boxers underneath. He walked forward awkwardly with an AR-15 cradled casually in his arms.

“Hey! Yo!” Kelly watched as the man called out to them from a hundred meters away.

“Realized we were on to them, so they sent the lowest ranking of them to lull us in.”

“We’ve seen that one before.” Kelly deadpanned.

Tae’ long nodded sagely, “Yes, in Arkansas, right?”

Kelly smiled, then channeled more mana into her pistols, reports of ambushers being neutralized on their flanks as the man approached slowly, “Close, Kansas.”

“Yo! Where you coming from? Who you got with you?” The man called out again.

“Ah, right, well, are we talking or shooting first?” Tae’ long asked, exposing a toothy grin.

Kelly shrugged while raising her arms, taking aim on the shady looking stranger who was forced to play bait for his friends. Sucks to be him. “[Arcane Infusion]!”

A purple spear of energy covered the distance between Kelly and the man too fast for him to react. The energy burst through his back, then dissipated. He looked down at the pair of fist sized holes in his chest before collapsing face first on the road.

“Shooting first I guess.” Tae’ long shrugged, then signaled for her own people to attack. In the same instant the once quiet underpass erupted in a hail of gunfire that forced her and Kelly to take cover.

Kelly took the time to flash her an apologetic grin, “Sorry. I just don’t trust no one but you guys. And especially not when they look like that asshole did.”

“Fair enough, let’s go push through and see if there’s anything worth looting. Maybe even some trucks. My paws are tired of walking.”

Audron E’fi, Ascendant Bringer of the Dawn, Mana Saturation Administrator for the Sol System

Alarms blared through the room where Audron was practicing the ancient sword forms that had been handed down to him from his own father and grandfather. This better not be another one of Sochi’s shenanigans! I swear I’ll toss him out the airlock for real this time! He stored the practice sword in its place against the wall, then navigated the hallways to reach the bridge.

As he entered the bridge Sochi blurted out, “I didn’t do it this time, boss!”

Rusne turned to confirm, “He definitely didn’t do this.” An image of a horror the likes of which he’d only faced once in his life appeared on the bridge display.

“Where is this!?” He barked.

“Uh, our favorite place. Arizona, specifically Phoenix. Right under that battle the Reaper is currently involved in. Underneath the eastern fortification to be exact. His Dwarves stumbled upon it, and they're currently forming a Raid back in the staging area in New Phoenix.”

Audron stared briefly at the monstrosity on the screen, based on his one encounter with one of these creatures, and the information available on the System Net, this thing should not be here.

“Estimated rank?”

Sochi turned back to his console, “It’s coming up now. Ok, System estimates 65% probability for it being a low level Heroic ranked Manifestation.”

“Manifestation of what though?” Rusne asked, a slight bit of panic creeping into her voice.

Audron knew the answer before Sochi could voice it, “Bael, the First and the Last.”

His subordinates stared back at him, though he was oblivious as memories of his own encounter with the Old God threatened to break his composure. He prayed he’d never have to face one of these things again. He acknowledged that if he were ever to push into Tier IV, he would have to face these monsters. Though the System being what it is, he figured that was another couple thousand years away. Hell, part of the reason he’d become an administrator was so he could help protect new worlds from the emergence of the Old Gods, whose only purpose was the destruction of all that mana touches.

While he considered the implications of the thing under Phoenix, another alarm blared across the bridge. Sochi quickly checked his console and blanched, “Sir, there’s another manifestation. This one’s under a mountain in South Africa. A place called the Congo. There’s no measurable sapient presence in the area.”

“Shit!”

“Sir, we have two communications requests. One from the Reaper, and the other from the Templars.”

The announcement pulled Audron from the dread in his heart, facing a Manifestation left one with a certain amount of PTSD, no matter how powerful a being they may be. Those foul beings were capable of humbling even the venerable Demi-Gods that roamed the Verse if they were allowed to grow too strong..

“Give me Mr. Brunett first.”

“Aye, Sir.”

A moment later the Reaper’s voice echoed across the tense silence of the bridge, “Administrator Ef’i?”

“Yes, Mr. Brunett, how can I help you?” he hoped he sounded more confident than he felt at the moment.

“You know about the thing below my feet that’s got my people so spooked?”

“Yes, I do.”

After a long tense pause, the man prodded him, “Can you help?”

“Unfortunately Mr. Brunett, I am unable to interfere directly. No one of my rank is allowed to fight on a newly initialized planet.” Audron responded regretfully, and with a bit of shame, a little relief.

“I see.”

Rusne took that moment to interrupt the conversation, “Sir, Mr. Brunett, I think I know how that came to be. Your people down there probably can’t see it, but deep below the bedrock is what your people would describe as a Leyline. We call it a Mana Convergence. That thing is tapping the raw mana flowing within your planet's crust to allow it to stay manifested in our Verse”

Audron nodded thankfully to her for the information, “If that’s the case Karl, you’re people need to get in there and kill it as quickly as they can. That’s all I can offer, I’m sorry. If you’ll excuse me, I have another call waiting.”

“I understand, thanks.” The man was polite, but his irritation was clear.

The next call was from the Templar Fleet leader, Jedrihin Ziphethos. The red skinned, four armed being stood in full battle regalia at the center of his bridge. “Administrator Ef’i”

“Scion Ziphethos, what can I do for you?”

“I assume you’ve seen the emergence of the two Manifestations?”

“I have.”

“Well, I would be more than happy to offer the services of the Templar to go and remove these abominations for you.”

Audron considered the problem carefully for a moment. He didn’t like the idea of giving the Templar a pass to land his forces on the planet. The problem was his charter forbade him from taking direct action on the planet until a being of equal rank had been raised on said planet. Essentially, until a Human or Europan reached Ascendant rank, he was forbidden from fighting on the planet.

“What’s the estimated rank of the Manifestation in the Congo?”

Rusne responded almost immediately, “Mid Legendary, no idea how that went unnoticed.”

“And how far away is the nearest Human city or settlement?”

“Over 3500 Human kilometers, Cairo, Egypt. The Conqueror still hasn’t uprooted the Israelis, which are a further 700 kilometers distant in Tel Aviv.”

He knew that technically, the highest rank any migrant could be coming to the planet would be Master. However, no one below the rank of Legendary traveled without higher level escorts.

“Alright. As you know, my people and I can’t operate on the planet. We can, however, issue a limited time Emergency System Quest. Which we will be doing now, Ms. Rusne, please post the following; To all gathered beings in the Sol System, an Old God Manifestation has appeared in the location referred to as the Congo. A Quest to defeat, or drive off the foul being is being issued on Emergency Authorization by Administrator Audron E’ fi. Standard System experience and UMC rewards based on difficulty will be applied. Additionally, exclusive settlement rights to the area where the Manifestation has broken through will be given to the group that defeats the abomination. If any being not participating in the Quest is discovered within three thousand kilometers of any native city or settlement, they will be forcibly ejected from the Sol System by the authority invested in me by the System Council.”

He looked up at the display of Scion Ziphethos, the man didn’t bother to hide the rage on his face. He clearly expected to manipulate the situation to gain his people an early foothold on the planet. Audron, however, was well versed in the methods of the Order Templar. Additionally, since the Templar had arrived, several dozen other powerful mercenary groups had also arrived in the system, clustering out past the orbit of Pluto.

“That, Scion, is your answer. I can’t be seen showing favor to just one group, you understand. This is the most fair solution.”

“Indeed. Menepheles, standby the assault shuttles, we have an abomination to destroy in the name of the One True God.”

The display winked off as he gave his order, turning from whatever recording device had been trained on him, his resplendent cape swishing majestically behind him. Prick.

“Just a thought, did they bring that Mythic rail pistol with them, Mr. Sochi?”

Sochi blanched at the mention of his previous indiscretion, “Uh, looks like it’s still locked up tight in the Winslow Armory.”

“Shame. They apparently didn’t see the need for weapons of mass destruction on this venture of theirs.”

James “King” Wakefield, Slave Master of the Arizonas, Street Fighter of the Hot Valley (A) Lvl 15

“Senor James, it seems you have a… problem?” Monte Cordova commented while watching the ongoing battle taking place several miles away from the King James’ mansion.

James himself was just on the edge of flying off on an uncontrollable rage. All of his lifelong friends and lieutenants were dying at the hands of the Warlord's band of freaks. Even Kameron, his lifelong friend and one of the strongest people he ever knew had been killed. While he managed to kill that punk ass kid that had temporarily taken his manhood, he wasn’t strong enough to defeat that one armed bitch. He shivered a bit at the sight of his oldest friend being diced into several parts without even putting up a fight.

Both Dillon and Micheal had fallen to that massive Demon. Shantel, that dumb bitch got torn in half by the Challenger and her dog. Cherise tried to switch sides when the Warlord’s General rolled up on her fat ass. The only one left was Laz, and he wasn’t a fighter, he just kept track of the money. And now this fucking piece of shit Cartel fucker was rubbing his failures in his face.

“And?”

Monte put his drink down and faced him directly, “Well, it seems our business here is done.”

King’s eye twitched, “How’s that?”

“You have a few fortifications left, with barely any soldiers to man them and the Warlord himself about to roll up on your house. The slave pens are empty, especially after that waste of flesh with the suicide bombs. Impressive to watch, but still a waste of product. Tell me why I should remain here any longer, Senor James?”

James realized his support was about to walk out the door so he instantly changed his tone, “Look, we gonna get this shit sorted out.”

Monte just shook his head and walked to the door, “No, I think our relationship is over, Senor. You have nothing the Sinoloa needs anymore.”

“Just like that!?” James' voice raised in anger.

The smaller Mexican man just kept walking out the door into the hallway, clearly his decision had been made. James, his anger having reached a boiling point, stalked forward and grabbed him by the shoulder. He tugged hard and began to yell again when he realized the man didn’t turn around like he’d expected. The sound of several rounds firing echoed down the hall as he found himself suddenly staring at the ceiling. A second later he was staring up at the barrel of a high caliber pistol, smoke still curling away from it.

“Senor James, we are done here. I would kill you myself, but I respect our previous relationship.” He cocked his head up as if listening to something that James himself couldn’t hear, then he looked down at him again, “And it seems as though your forts have fallen, the Warlord comes for you.”

Monte stood, holstered his pistol, straightened his jacket, and left without another word. James was stunned. He had never been so easily handled in his life, before or after the System. He looked down the hall past his feet at the slowly cooling bodies of his former bodyguards. Anger boiling in his veins he finally stood and left his mansion.

“Fuck this shit, I ain’t going down like no bitch. If the Warlord wants a fight, I’ll give him a fight.”