A Tall Tale of the West: The Story of Bladeranger

(From the diary of Billy Denton)

I’d been hearing the stories for months about a lawman who could run like a tornado. Who could dodge a bullet before it had ever left the barrel it was fired from, with a set of blades so fine and sharp folks said couldn’t have been be crafted by a human hand. Bunk, most people said.

But I know different. And, near as I’ve been able to figure, this here’s the first recorded appearance of that lawman — the man they call Bladeranger.

It was July 23, 1885. I’d been on a cattle drive through most of Texas. Andy Patterson and I decided to head into Laredo for a couple of beers and to try our luck at some poker. We went in the local saloon, sat at the bar and ordered our drinks. Just then, we heard a voice behind us.

“You’re in my seat, runt.”

I turned and saw a massive man — easily six and a half feet tall and around 300 pounds, not countin’ the heavy iron he had strapped to his hip.

I got up to move, but ol’ Andy kept himself firmly planted. “Don’t see your name on it, friend. And which one is your seat, anyhow?”

The big man laughed. “They’re both mine. Best be gettin’ along now ’fore someone gets hurt.”

The bartender finally spoke up. “Hey, Jack, don’t bust up the place too bad. I just fixed the bullet holes in the walls from last time.”

Andy’s brain finally caught up to his mouth. “Oh, Lord — you’re Big Jack Henderson. Killed 12 men, wanted for horse thievin’ in nine cities…”

“You forgot cheatin’ at cards,” another voice said. “If there’s one thing I can’t abide, it’s a card cheat.”

Every eye in the place shot toward the middle of the room, where there now stood a man just a hair shorter than Jack himself. A white hat pulled low over a tanned face, with a little red mask hidin’ the eyes. A gray leather riding jacket stretched across wide shoulders, with a badge on his chest. Worn blue jeans and white leather boots and gloves as crisp as Boston snow at Christmastime.

“Reckon this ain’t your affair, dude,” Jack said menacingly.

“Anytime there’s a murderer loose, it’s the law’s affair — and that makes it MY affair,” the man replied coolly.

“Lawman, huh? Well, you just made a bad mistake, partner.” And quicker than a rattlesnake, Jack’s hand flashed down toward that cannon he had holstered at his side. He fired off three shots — BLAM BLAM BLAM — before any of us had the good sense to duck.

The masked man somehow moved even faster. One second, those three bullets had all been perfect headshots. The next, he’d zipped clean outta their way, letting them impact in the wall 10 feet behind where he’d been. Meanwhile, Jack’s gun was now in two neatly sliced pieces on the floor, with a fair amount of blood as well.

The masked man leaned back against the bar and tipped his hat back a ways with the tip of a blade held in some compartment on the back of one of them fancy white gloves. The blade was as black as the ace of spades, apart from the spatter of blood on one edge.

“Now I had heard tell that it’s a fool who brings a knife to a gunfight,” the masked man said with a smirk. “Guess it ain’t so dumb after all — right, Jack?” The masked man retracted the blade back into his glove and shoved the now-whimpering Jack out the door and into the hands of the waiting sheriff.

While Andy went back to camp, I stayed behind and watched the lawman scoot out the back door, stopping to refill a small canteen at a horse trough. I approached him with my hands held up.

“Got no problem with you, partner,” the man said. “Only trouble I got is with lawbreakers.”

“I been hearin’ stories about a fella like you out on the cattle trail,” I said. “About a fella named —”

“Bladeranger,” the man confirmed. “I heard them tall tales too.”

“So, are you him?”

He nodded.

“I ’preciate the help.” I stuck out my hand to shake his. He took it and shook — as powerful a handshake as I’d ever felt — when his glove made a weird “beep” sound.

“Well, partner, duty calls. Y’all be safe out here, all right?” I nodded dumbly, and he touched a spot behind his wrist. A golden light appeared out of nowhere. He tipped his hat to me once and then disappeared into the light.

I ain’t never gonna forget that man — the man they call Bladeranger.

The man smiled again as he finished reading the diary pages in the case at the Paragon City History Museum. He knew Mender Lazarus would tell him he shouldn’t be here, but what ol’ Lazzie didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Bladeranger walked out onto the street from the museum, adjusted his hat on his head and triggered the Ouroboros portal. From there, he would be headed back home — the open plains of the Old West.

Bladeranger checked the small calendar display Lazarus had given him to make sure he always returned to the proper date. It read July 22, 1885. I was over in Virginia City when I made this trip, he chuckled to himself. Seems I’ve got a bit of a run ahead of me when I get back.

With a smile on his face, Bladeranger stepped through the golden portal and vanished.

“Its going to be one of THOSE cases.” thought Judiciary Blue. Tempers were already stretched thin before the meeting even began. The fact that this small meeting room in the offices of The Agency had no windows or air conditioning (the room had been nicknamed Hell's Closet for good reason) was not helping.

“Sir, the charges against Mr. Starr are ridiculous!” Major 12 exclaimed, patting Gregory's shoulder.

“I wouldn't call misappropriation of funds, unauthorized use of governmental resources, leaking classified information, and creating a potential terrorist threat “ridiculous”, 12. In fact, I would be more likely to call it treason!” shouted Colonel 4.

“TREASON!? Have you even read that file past the list of charges, sir?” 12 yelled back.

“Gentlemen, please, sit back down! Calm yourselves and 4, as prosecutor, you tell me about those charges.” Blue glared at each man until they complied.

“Well, sir, its simple. Gregory Starr, the defendant, was provided with a lab and funding to create advanced cybernetic systems for the military, prosthetic limb replacements, that sort of thing. But he then sold those systems to a civilian! Now that military grade tech is out there doing God knows what!”

“Well, those are serious accusations indeed! Why would you call such claims “ridiculous”, 12?” Blue inquired.

“Sir, the tech was not sold, it was given freely. And the civilian in question is Mr. Starr's own daughter!”

“His daughter?”

“Yes, sir, his daughter. After a collision with a drunk driver, she had lost use of both her arms and legs. Heck, it was a miracle they were even able to keep her alive. And when she awoke from the coma two months later, she became suicidal. You're a father, 4, how would YOU feel in Mr Starr's position?”

“12, there is no reason to bring 4's personal life into these proceedings, but you may continue” Blue interrupted.

“Well, sir, Starr did what any father would do. He used his connections to transfer her to his labs medical center and grafted the cybernetics he had created to her. And it worked. Restoring her limbs also restored her will to live. The only thing Mr Starr is guilty of is loving his daughter, to the point where nothing else mattered but her. And if that is a crime, then lock me up too!”

After a moment, 4 stated “Ahem. Sir, under the circumstances, prosecution is willing to throw out the treason charge, as well as the terrorist threat thing. But, the fact remains that he did use government resources and funds for personal gain, and has risked the leaking of classified information through his daughter. These charges still need to be addressed...”

BAM! At that moment the door was kicked off its hinges by a robotic boot and a young woman stepped into the room. Looking at the door propped up against the opposite wall she patted her cybernetic leg and said “Oops, sorry bout that, still not used to how much power these things have. Listen, I have an idea, you cant send my daddy to prison!”

Blue recovered from the surprise first and said “and you would of course be...?”

“Sorry, my name is Karen Starr, and I have an idea that...”

“Hey, what the <censored> are you doing here? How did you get in here? What about the guards at the entrances, the elevators, the door?” Colonel 4 interrupted.

“Well, the front entrance guards couldn't stop me from jumping up onto a 6th floor balcony and through the window, could they? The grumpy guys in the hallways tried to stop me, but I stuck them in force bubbles. Then I just had to find the right room. Now, my idea...”

“This is an unprecedented breach of security, and . . .” Suddenly, with a wave of Karen's hand, a bubble appeared around 4's head, and while his lips could be seen moving, not a sound could be heard.

“He looks like a fat goldfish in a bowl!” Karen giggled. “Ok, he can still hear us, we just cant hear him. So, my dad used your stuff to give me arms and legs. And force fields and energy blasts, but whatcha gonna do, right? It was either that or watch me rot away in a hospital, and isn't saving lives kinda what you guys are supposed to do?

“So, make me part of the project! You knew there was going have to be a human guinea pig to test this stuff out on eventually. Well, I'm it! Send me out on missions or whatever, and let me work off the debt. And maybe I can help other people in the process, people in the wrong place at the wrong time. Like I was when that truck...”

A hard knock on the table interrupted Karen, and 4 waved at the bubble around his head. Once released from it, he said “An interesting idea that. An agent to test out the tech in actual field conditions. Would have had to been done eventually anyway, this just moves up the time table a bit. And if an untrained girl can bypass our security measures with such apparent ease, imagine what a fully trained agent could do. Ok miss, as long as you cooperate, we can consider your father on probation. Deal?”

“Deal, as long as I get a hero name instead of a silly agent number. Maybe something like Shield Star...”

"It was always Maria that tended the garden. I didn't give a sh- Maria wouldn't like me cursing. I just didn't care that much about it. The garden was her thing. Her gift. She could make anything grow. I never knew if she had something special, a talent, that gave her that green thumb. She wouldn’t talk about her past. It was like she felt time started when we met. I was gone a lot. Neither of us liked being apart, but she never complained much. She knew that when I went away to do… what I did (what I was told to do), I’d be back. And every time I came home from wherever I was, Maria was right there standing in the middle of that tiny little plot of land like she was the queen. And boy, to me she was. She was a queen."

“We were together for 30 years. We didn’t have kids, but Maria had her garden, and I had Maria. She got sick a few years ago. Things went fast, it was already too late when we found out. I tried to give her everything then, but she just wanted to sit in the sun in the yard, among her plants. She passed right there, by the Dahlias. She liked them because they’re temperamental. I wasn’t planning on staying longer than she did, but she made me promise to look after the plants. She made me swear it. So I swore an oath I’d learned in my trade. I guess I didn’t know how strong it was.”

"And now? I don't know. I plant 'em and I water 'em like she did. I just want to see things grow is all. I want to make things grow, like she did. No, not make them grow. Maria… she helped them grow. That’s what I want, I guess? I don't know! Stop asking me stupid questions. We're done."

Lost Souls: The Origin of Pulsarshade

My name is Nebula Eclipse — at least, that’s as close as your language can approximate my true designation. For eons, I was a Peacebringer, dedicated to bringing light and life to the cosmos.

For a briefer time, I was a Nictus.

May the universe forgive me.

***

I’m Isaiah Donovan. After high school, I joined the Marines. I didn’t really know what I wanted to do with my life, and I thought the military might give me some direction. Before I left, I married Emily Sanders — the most popular girl in our school. We were the sweethearts every teenager thinks of when they fall in love for the first time.

But it wasn’t going to last.

***

I journeyed down the path of darkness at the urging of my mate, Quasar Entropy. He followed the doctrine of stealing the lifeforce from our brother and sister Kheldians. And I followed him.

I am ashamed that it took so long for me to see the truth. And that it took the sacrifice of our child, Photon Wave, to show me how wrong I was.

My child stood against his father and me when we told him that we were at war with the Peacebringers, and his place was with us.

“My place is here — a fact you have forgotten, Father and Mother.” With a simple sentence, my son showed more nobility than I have ever known.

His father ripped the life from our son’s essence. The light of my life had been extinguished.

A moment later, I removed his murderer from the universe.

I was all alone now. And I knew how I had to atone for what I’d done.

***

I was assigned to a Marine unit backing up Vanguard troops and heroes fighting in the Second Rikti War. Soon, we started going out on our own, treating the Rikti War Zone like it was our own personal playground. We started dispensing justice under our terms. And the terms were non-negotiable.

I felt guilty about it. Even though they were the enemy, the Rikti didn’t deserve this. I tried to get the guys to stop. They wouldn’t. I threatened to go to the C.O. They dared me to do it.

I did — a day too late.

My fellow Marines had set me up as the only culprit, and the C.O. believed them. I was court-martialed. My lawyer actually got me a decent deal — no time in the brig and no civilian criminal charges. Just a dishonorable discharge, along with orders to keep my mouth shut about what I knew.

I took the deal. It destroyed my life.

***

I had decided to end myself. I set course for Sagittarius A, the supermassive black hole at the center of the Milky Way galaxy. Just before I entered the event horizon, however, I changed course. I don’t know why. All I know is that I careened out of the gravity well on a random course, not knowing or caring where I ended up.

But now I feel like I’m being drawn somewhere. Somewhere in the Orion-Cygnus Arm of the galaxy…

***

My family had disowned me. And I hadn’t heard from Emily. She didn’t respond to my calls or texts, and she wasn’t there when I got off the train.

When I walked into our apartment, there was a note on the table. I didn’t have to open it to know what it said.

Emily was gone.

I was all alone now.

***

The feeling’s getting stronger now. I’m definitely being drawn. There’s someone out there who needs me. And I need him. We … belong together.

Along the way, I’ve found others like me. We call ourselves Warshades. We’ve renounced the Nictus way. They say there are those who share these ideals on a planet in the Sol system — where Peacebringers and Warshades fight together with natives to defeat the Nictus and other threats.

They call their planet Earth.

I fly faster on my course.

***

Now I’m sitting on the edge of my apartment building’s roof, feeling the cold wind cut through me in my T-shirt and sweatpants.

There’s no one who can help me get through this … though I feel like the answer I need is right there, right there, so close I can just reach out and touch it.

I stand up — have I made up my mind to do it? — when I hear a voice in my mind. I realize it’s not the first time I’ve heard it — heard her.

***

Please hang on. I’m almost there. Don’t give up.

***

Suddenly, I see a light in the sky. It starts arcing toward me. Like an inky shadow made out of light, somehow.

It dives into me. I don’t resist.

***

I know you … somehow …

You have heard my voice in your dreams. As I have heard yours in mine.

Why are you here? Is there something better than this?

Yes. We two can become one. We can make something better for ourselves, if we dare.

I’ve got nothing left. If you’re in, so am I.

Then let us begin.

***

The being who came down from the rooftop that night was no longer merely Isaiah Donovan and no longer merely Nebula Eclipse.

That night, Pulsarshade was born. And he — we — grew to be a mighty hero of Paragon City and Earth.

We battle the Nictus and the other forces of evil that threaten our home.

Love? A family? A legacy? These are things that may yet lie in the future for Pulsarshade. None of us knows what the future holds.

***

But I promise…

…as long as I live…

…you will never…

…be alone again…

***

THE END

Trooper TD8294 gazed up at the familiar stars of the night sky above, doing his best to ignore the alerts flashing across his retinal screen, and the frantic murmuring of his neural implant.

++Nanotech field surgery mode operating at 123% above capacity, energy reserves depleting rapidly++

++Missing organic components identified as left arm and lower right leg. Skull fractures and accompanying concussion noted++

++Force cannon offline. Auxiliary weapons offline++

++Energy shield offline++

++Scanning for Command Tactical Network++

++Network not found – searching for alternates – none detected++

The cratered face of the moon drifted into view and TD8294 experienced a sharp pang of homesickness. Then he frowned. Where was the beacon for Moonbase 1? Why couldn’t he make out the mass driver track launching supplies to the Asteroid Defence Zones?

He tried to turn his head but flashes of pain curling around the edges of the nerve blocks made him hiss softly. Groggily he tried to recall the last few hours. He remembered his squad had been tasked with a deep strike mission into a rebel fortification that required the use of a teleport gate. He had never really trusted the teleport technology, or the eggheads who built it, but something had obviously gone very, very wrong.

++ALERT – MOTION DETECTED – ALERT++

Suddenly the oddly naked face of the moon disappeared as a dark figure loomed over him. TD8294 switched to night vision and froze as a nightmarish image jumped into focus. It was a stunted figure almost entirely covered in some flexible material with a pale flat face sporting odd clumps of stringy fur. It opened a small fleshy mouth exposing tiny blunt teeth and made odd barking noises at him. Then it lifted something that looked suspiciously like a weapon and pointed it at him threateningly.

TD8294’s training kicked in and he lashed out with his right hand thrusting his stiffened fingers directly into the creature’s throat. Easily piercing its soft skin and crushing its windpipe in one swift motion. It dropped beside him twitching and then was still.

TD8294 reached across to grasp the creature’s weapon. He detected a crude power source and his nanotech quickly tapped into it, gaining enough energy to finish healing his injuries and start the process of gathering materials for cybernetic prosthetic limbs.

While that was underway, he studied the creature closely, noting disturbing similarities to the ancient extinct primates whose bizarre fossils had fascinated him as a child.

A fantastic thought flashed through his mind as the fogginess faded. He instructed his implant to scan background radiation levels.

++Anomalous radiation levels detected++

++Background radiation levels significantly lower than those recorded over the last 200 years++

It was obvious now that this Earth was not his. The barren moon, the lack of any significant radiation from the Nuclear Firestorms that nearly destroyed his people 200 years ago. Somehow the teleportation malfunction had shunted him into a different universe.

++Unidentified signals located++

++Activating codebreaking subroutines++

++No quantum encryption detected++

++Basic binary numeral system++

++Unknown symbolic structures++

++Activating pattern recognition algorithms++

++Processing++

++Processing++

++Possible video signals identified++

++Transferring to retinal screen++

Trooper TD 8294 watched as images began flashing across the screen, showing him more and more of the odd primate creatures. Images of living oceans and rainforests unseen on his planet for centuries. No sign of anyone who looked like his people though. No tall, green-scaled, red-eyed warriors or stout, bronze-scaled, golden-eyed breeders.

But as he continued to watch he noticed something that gave him hope. Images of violence and conflict streamed across his vision. He watched strange primate soldiers marching into battle. This was familiar, this was something he could understand.

It might take time, but he knew now that he had skills and knowledge that would be valued in this world. He might have lost his squad-mates but with enough energy and his nanotech it wouldn’t take long to repair his weapons and start constructing some battle-drones.

He may never be able to return home, but he could survive here, as a mercenary army of one. His army would need a name, however. A name that would impress potential allies and strike fear into his opponents.

++Preliminary translation of prevailing primate language available++

++Generating possible designations for new strike force++

++Processing++

++Processing++

++Strike Force RoboSaur++

++Strike Force T-Rexatron++

++Strike Force TechDragon++

++Potential conflict zones identified: Paragon City and Rogue Isles – global coordinates transferred to retinal display++

TechDragon’s scaly lips stretched into a fang—filled grin of anticipation for the campaign ahead, his forked tongue flicking out to taste the night air, his muscular tail lashing back and forth.

Millions of years ago the dinosaur roamed the Earth. Some of them evolved into my ancestors who formed an advanced civilization long before the age of humanity. They were a sophisticated culture that spanned the planet. Adept in science and reverent towards nature they built a society that was both high tech and environmentally friendly. Calling themselves the Draco they lived in a golden era that lasted for several thousand years on Earth.

The golden era of Draco came to an abrupt end after an environmental catastrophe changed the environment making the Earth’s surface uninhabitable. A combination of increased seismic and volcanic activity and the introduction of external chemical agents from a series of large-scale impacts from asteroids caused the air to become unbreathable. Desperate for survival, my ancestors had to leave their homes forever and create a new path.

The Draco set out to populate the asteroid belt and several moons in the solar system. Isolated from planet Earth and adapting to space life over millions of years eventually they evolved into the Dragons. The sheer cold of space forced them to begin to generate their own warmth from within and they gained the ability to breathe and wield fire. The vastness of space forced them to alter their perception of time so they could exist outside of linear time. They became creatures capable of living in space, the Dragons.

For a very long time, the Dragon had little interest in returning to Earth believing the planet to still be uninhabitable. They were perfectly content existing within the solar system spread out among the rocks and moons. The Dragon seemed to no longer care for the planet of their origins, but some of us did want to return to Earth, myself included. We believed that we would never be completely Dragon until we reclaimed our homeworld.

I was determined to return to Earth and persistently brought my concerns to the Council of Dragons. Repeatedly my requests to form a group of explorers to go home were rejected. I had no other choice but to give up working within the system that would deny Dragons our birth right. I had to take matters into my own claws. Taking on the name Legendary Monster, I began to gather my own group of loyalists who shared the goal of returning to Earth.

When we finally had enough volunteers and supplies we set out for Earth despite the objections by the Council. We have advanced so far, no amount of environmental devastation can keep us from living on Earth again. It is our birthright! The Earth belongs to the Dragon and we are going to live on it again. What we found when we got there was unexpected, the Earth was no longer inhospitable and was instead populated by these creatures called humans.

How dare these creatures steal our planet? Our ancestors roamed this planet for millions of years before these mammals decided to try and stake a claim. The Earth doesn’t belong to humans, they are a lower life form and are only good for food. I will not let these humans keep this planet without a fight. Unfortunately, the humans were stronger than we anticipated. Reclaiming our homeworld will not be easy, but we will not give up! Earth belongs to the Dragons and we will not stop until we take it back from the humans!

Raksmei Loun

"Shocking New Menace Robs Bank. Again."

The headline was attention getting, but lost a little power with the bad pun. In smaller type the story noted that 'Electron Volts' had robbed another bank and was still at large. The Rogue Island police are warning that the villain appeared to be armed with electrified fists and should be considered extremely dangerous.

Within one of the many scattered caves of the isles a small, unimposing male Asian tossed down the newspaper with a lopsided grin. As he looked out over the surf he spent a moment thinking about where to spend some of his newly acquired wealth. Dreaming about fast cars and a beautiful person on his arm helped keep away the dark dream of the night before.

The bad dreams were always hovering on the edge of his consciousness. He had tried many medications (legal and not-so-much), meditation techniques, and even black magic to drive them from his mind. All his attempts had been to no avail. Sleep remained his true enemy.

The dreams always started the same. A mysterious figure in a plain white lab coat, his face covered with a mask, looking uninterestedly on as Ramsmei twitched and shrieked in pain. A powerful hum fills the room as giant capacitors and transformers store up and discharge unimaginable voltages into his always hurting body. The only words spoken are "More electron volts" as dials are turned up and the pain increases.

Ramsmei had been born a happy child into a large family. His family were citizens of beautiful Cambodia. A county with lush vegetation and time honed Buddhist traditions. His family was moderately prosperous and included many siblings, aunts, uncles and cousins by the score.

It wasn't until decades later Raksmei Loun even knew the name, "Khmer Rouge," and the reason his parents sold everything; all that they owned. His wise father and loving mother had gathered the family. All of them. Brother, sister, cousin, aunt and uncle. Bribes were placed and finally the captain of a tramp cargo ship was found who was willing, for a very steep price, to take them all to America. The family planned to seek political asylum.

The captain was a small-time hustler with a different plan. He was one of those petty souls who believed the world owed him prosperity and hadn't paid up yet. The kind of soulless person who really would sell his mother for the right price.

The Loun family would not learn until it was far too late that the man, they trusted for their salvation, had already sold them all into slavery the day they boarded his ship.

In the Rogue Isles many things the rest of the world finds disgusting and abhorrent are legal and even flourish. Slavery is almost mild compared to what is allowed to take place under the rule of Arachnos and Lord Recluse.

Drugged just before arrival in the States, the Loun family woke up in one of Aracnos' secret labs. A brilliant but twisted mind ran the lab. The term "sadistic mad scientist" isn't really adequate.

With the sole exception of Raksmei, the Loun family was condemned to a painful existence as one of the 'infected': those poor individuals who have been experimented on and dumped in a shanty town to fend for themselves with their genetic damage and mutations.

Raksmei has no clue what the twisted chemicals and viral vectors with a genetic payload were supposed to accomplish. The sadist in charge may have only been testing their toxicity to humans, or how much pain they could inflict. Whatever the goal might have been, in Raksmei's personal genome something evolved. He developed unprecedented abilities to generate, control and discharge electricity.

At first it was only a spark or two, like petting a cat on a dry winter day. That was enough to get him noticed for further experimentation. He was kept in an insulated cell by night, but at least for the first time in years he was getting almost decent food. They wanted to keep test subject echo-echo-four-one-niner alive. Day time was a decent into the red haze of pain. Strapped to a table, hooked up to generators and transformers designed to power a small factory, always hearing "More Electron Volts.”

The generators powering Ramsmei's pain and suffering had a finite limit. Day after day, body wracked in pain, he slowly learned to channel and even hold energy within himself. After months of intense torture and pain Ramsmei had learned to smell the voltage and see the amps. A new Synesthesiac perception had developed and electricity had become his life's blood. Reversing the direction of the current and forcing megawatts of energy into equipment designed to give punishment rather than take it, Ramsmei overloaded the test machinery then took his revenge on the staff at the laboratory.

Upon the discarded newspaper a back page story was now showing. The Rogue Island Police were seeking any witnesses to a bizarre accident. A Captain John Smith, retired from running a small cargo ship around the orient, had been a resident of Cap Au Diablo these past five years. His body had been found on the docs last night with massive electrical burns on a bench that was far from any active power lines or equipment.

Detective Jose Brogan scratched his chin. He was starting to think this was above his pay grade.

"Alright, Mercurian," Brogan began. "You drunk, or something?"

"I'm not the Mercurian," said the guy in the holding cell.

"That's funny," Brogan replied. "You're dressed like him. All shiny and stuff."

The costumed guy scowled. "I'm not... I... the Mercurian's dead, okay?"

Brogan narrowed his eyes. "Is he, now? That some kind of confession, pal?"

"What? No! The Mercurian, his powers, they're from these alien glove things. Gauntlets, I guess. But he's gone. They came to me."

"Right," Brogan said. "You're the Mercurian now, that what you mean?"

"I guess," the guy mumbled, looking at his metal-covered hands.

"Fine," Brogan said. "So, mind explaining why you flew through the side of that building?"

"Er... "

"And," Brogan continued, "landed on a car? No, wait. Says here, you took out three vehicles, and a bicycle?"

"These things didn't come with an instruction manual, okay?"

Lisa La Lune was Paragon City's 6th most popular stage magician which wasn't really a profitable job.

One night after a show, she was mugged. Refusing to give up what little she had earned, she fought back. Some flash powder up her sleeve exploded in the mugger's face allowing her to escape and the police to arrest him.

She then started a crime-fighting career as Ta Dah using stage props as weapons and promptly got her ass handed to her by a low-level Atlas Park Hellion.

While recovering in the hospital, she cried out for someone to improve her sad circumstances. Hecate, the goddess of magic, took pity on her and granted her real magical powers.

Ta Dah is back protecting Paragon City and as a result of the publicity she is now the 5th most popular stage magician in town. So, suck it Merlino "The Great."

Knox Paucks, owner of Paucks Stocks Clocks, received a box of broken tick-tocks.

A note read, "You may keep this box of clocks, compliments of Doctor Vahzilock."

There was a strange powder on every clock, so Paucks cleaned the entire stock.

Later, shock overtook the unsuspecting Knox, maliciously exposed to radiated smallpox.

The viral substance coating the clocks altered the appearance of Mr. Paucks.

Where before he stood tall and lean, he now appears small and green.

Due to the mutation of dear ol' Knox, he had to close his store of clocks,

and now patrols the city blocks, in his new identity: Smallpox!