JESSICA
The hum of the Quinjet's engines fills the cabin as we soar through the sky. Outside, the horizon stretches endlessly, clouds breaking beneath us. We are en route to Washington D.C., summoned to the White House for reasons still unclear. My mind churns with possibilities, none of them comforting.
John leans forward in his seat, practically vibrating with excitement. "The White House," he breathes, staring out the window like a kid seeing snow for the first time. "I can't believe I'm actually gonna set foot in *the* White House. Imagine how majestic it's gonna look up close."
I can't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "You've never been to the White House before?"
"Hell no!" he laughs. "The closest I've been to anything important is a recording studio. Stages for performing, sure. Classrooms, yeah. But the White House? This is a whole new level."
Joseph, sitting beside me, rolls his eyes. "Then why are you even here? Seems like you should've stuck to your music. That's more your speed."
John's grin falters for a second, but he recovers quickly. "Come on, Joe. We both know I can't live in the studio forever. This is my shot to branch out. Maybe even perform for the president someday. Win a Grammy *and* shake hands with a world leader."
"Why stop there?" Leonard chimes in from across the aisle, smirking. "You could perform for President Trump and Vice President Harris *right now*. Make it a show they'll never forget."
John's eyes light up. "That…is a *brilliant* idea! Thanks, Leo. I'll—"
"Alright, that's enough," Morinjo cuts in, her voice sharp but calm. "You're getting ahead of yourself. Focus on the mission, not your daydreams."
"But you guys don't get it," John protests. "This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance! Pictures, performances, everything!"
"And yet," Joseph interjects dryly, "we still don't even know why we're going to the White House. Maybe you should call and ask the president yourself."
Leonard chuckles. "Great idea. Go ahead, John."
"Very funny," John mutters, slouching back in his seat.
Just then, the comm panel lights up, glowing red. A familiar voice crackles through the speakers as Mr. Smith answers. "G.A.L.A.X.Y. report. Where are you now?"
"On our way to the White House," Joseph says. "We'll be there shortly."
"Change of plans," Mr. Smith says curtly. His tone makes the air in the cabin grow heavier. "You're not needed in D.C. anymore."
Joseph frowns. "What's going on?"
"A terrorist attack in Norway. International School of Stavanger was bombed. Fifty students dead, dozens injured. The military's already engaged, but they're overwhelmed. They need your help."
The cabin goes silent. My chest tightens. Images of screaming students and collapsing buildings flash in my mind. "What about the attackers?" I ask.
"They're not human," Smith replies. "Robots. Advanced, coordinated, and lethal. No idea where they came from, but they're tearing through our defenses."
John, still processing the news, stammers, "But the White House meeting—?"
"My agents will handle it," Smith interrupts. "Your priority is Norway. Get there *now.*"
I don't hesitate. Gripping the controls, I veer the Quinjet toward Europe. "Alright, Ventures. Suit up. We've got a city to save."
Joseph unbuckles his seatbelt, nodding grimly. "I'll grab my gear."
Leonard follows, muttering, "This just keeps getting better."
As they disappear into the gear room, I glance back at Morinjo and John, who haven't moved. "You two waiting for an invitation?"
Morinjo leans back, arms crossed. "I'll suit up when we're closer. No point rushing."
John stays rooted, staring at the floor. For once, his usual bravado is gone. "They were just kids," he murmurs, almost to himself. "What kind of monsters would do this?"
I don't have an answer. My hands tighten on the controls. "The kind we stop."
Minutes later, Joseph and Leonard return, transformed. Joseph's red-and-black suit gleams under the cabin lights, his bow and quiver slung across his back. Leonard adjusts the bracers on his green uniform, his face set in grim determination.
Joseph glances at me. "When did you change into your suit?"
"Before we took off," I say without looking away from the controls.
He smirks faintly. "Always ready, huh?"
"Always," I reply.
"Alright. Time to work." I said
As the Quinjet cuts through the clouds, the weight of the mission settles on my shoulders. Norway isn't just another battlefield. It's a school, a place where children should've been safe. The thought makes my stomach churn, but I push it down. There's no time for doubt or fear.
We have a job to do.
---
Hours later, we approach International School of Stavanger, in Norway. From the Quinjet, the scene below is pure chaos. Soldiers are locked in a brutal battle against an army of humanoid robots. Gunfire crackles, and the metallic clash of weapons echoes through the air. Some soldiers are trying desperately to extract terrified students from the rubble, but the robots seem hell-bent on stopping them—killing them, even.
My stomach tightens as I take it all in. We're supposed to fix this.
"Alright, Ventures," I say, my voice steady despite the tension coiling inside me. "We're here. Get ready to throw some punches, shoot some arrows, and unleash everything you've got."
John grins to himself, already unbuckling his seatbelt. "Perfect."
I glance at the rearview mirror and freeze. He's already at the door, his hand on the latch.
"John!" Morinjo barks, unbuckling and racing toward him. "What the hell are you doing?!"
"I'm getting out," John says casually, as if stepping into a battlefield without a plan is the most normal thing in the world.
"Without a parachute?!" Morinjo stares at him, incredulous.
"Yep. I've got this."
"You've got nothing but reckless stupidity if you think jumping out at this altitude is a good idea!" Morinjo grabs his arm, his voice lowering into a growl. "Don't try it, John. I'm serious."
John shakes him off. "Relax, Morinjo. I won't die. Remember? Immortal." His tone is almost playful as he pushes the latch open.
Morinjo looks like he's about to explode. "Immortal doesn't mean invincible! You think you can take on an entire army alone just because you've got powers? You're gonna get yourself—"
"I don't want to wait," John interrupts, his voice suddenly sharp. His eyes flick to me for a moment before he steps back toward the door. "See you on the battlefield, leader."
And then, he lets himself fall.
"Damn it, John!" Morinjo shouts, rushing to the open door, but John is already a speck hurtling toward the ground.
"What motivates him to do this?" Morinjo turns back to us, his frustration palpable.
Leonard shrugs, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Movies. We watched The Incredible Hulk a while back. Bruce Banner jumps out of a helicopter like a hero after kissing his girlfriend. Guess John thought he could one-up that."
Morinjo's eyes narrow. "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard." He looks at me, his voice softening just slightly. "Jessica, find us a landing spot. Let's finish this and figure out what the hell these robots are doing here."
I nod, guiding the Quinjet into a clear patch near the school. The moment we touch down, everyone springs into action.
As soon as we step out, John emerges from a hole in the ground, his transformation into Lycon Wolf complete. His once-human form is gone, replaced by a towering figure covered in thick green fur, claws gleaming under the overcast sky. He roars, the sound shaking the air, as his elongated fangs glint with the promise of violence. Leonard, now Zetacode, clenches his fists. Electricity sparks wildly from his arms and legs, his eyes glowing an intense green. The charge in the air prickles against my skin.
Joseph readies his bow, pulling an arrow from his quiver. His expression is calm, almost cold. He's in full Menace mode now.
Morinjo's body shimmers as his nanotech suit forms around him, transforming him into Path Finder. The armor molds to his frame, sleek and lethal, with a visor sliding into place over his eyes.
I draw my twin swords from their scabbards, the weight of the blades familiar in my hands. For a second, I pause. The chaos around us is deafening, and I catch glimpses of terrified students, soldiers falling, and robots advancing. I steel myself, pushing down the knot in my chest.
Morinjo steps forward, his voice cutting through the din. "Ultimate Ventures, roll out!"
We sprint toward the battlefield, joining the soldiers in their desperate fight. The robots snap their heads toward us in eerie unison, their cold, glowing blue eyes cutting through the smoky air like daggers. Their metallic bodies gleam under the faint light, exuding an aura of unstoppable power. With movements precise and mechanical, they shift their frames, the sound of grinding metal filling the air. Their glowing cores pulse faintly in their chests, synchronized like a heartbeat, yet entirely devoid of life. As they lock onto us, the battlefield grows colder, their gaze an unspoken promise of destruction.
The factory echoes with the metallic clang of clashing steel and the shrill whir of servos as Menace and I charge into the fray. The air smells of burnt wires and oil, thick with the ozone tang of disrupted electronics. The blue-eyed robots swarm us—sleek, humanoid machines with an otherworldly precision. Menace moves first. With fluid precision, he looses arrow after arrow. Each shot is flawless—clean, calculated, devastating. His arrows strike the robots' glowing cores, causing them to explode in brief flashes of searing light. When the swarm presses too close, he switches to his fists and legs, each blow crunching through metal plating like it's paper. He's unstoppable, a whirlwind of destruction.
I don't have time to admire him for long. One of the robots lunges at me, its clawed hand swiping for my throat with terrifying speed. I barely manage to sidestep, slashing my blade in a desperate counterattack. Sparks erupt as my sword meets its armor, carving through its shoulder joint. It stumbles but doesn't fall, its other arm lashing out with relentless ferocity. I duck low, sweeping its legs out before plunging my blade into its core. It spasms violently, blue light flickering before it collapses into a heap of scrap.
"Behind you!" Menace's warning cuts through the chaos. I drop to the ground just as one of the robots leaps at me, its claws slicing through the air inches above my head. Menace's arrow strikes true, embedding itself in the machine's chest and detonating its core. Shards of glowing metal rain down around me.
"Thanks!" I shout, rising to my feet and immediately parrying another attack.
"Stay focused!" he barks, already moving to intercept a trio of robots charging from the side.
The fight is a blur of movement, steel, and light. We're surrounded, but we move like a single entity, each covering the other's weaknesses. Menace's strikes create openings for me to exploit, and my defenses give him time to line up his shots. The synergy between us is almost electric, a silent understanding forged in the heat of battle.
But these machines are more than relentless—they're smart. One feints left while another lunges from the right, catching me off guard. I manage to parry one, but the other's claw grazes my shoulder. Pain lances through me, hot and sharp. I grit my teeth and spin, severing the robot's leg with a desperate swing before stabbing upward into its core. Its glowing eyes dim as it crumples, lifeless.
"Jessica, you good?" Menace's voice carries a rare note of concern as he slams an elbow into another robot, cracking its head like an eggshell.
"Never better," I manage through gritted teeth, clutching my bleeding shoulder. The truth is, the pain is blinding, but I won't let him see me falter.
He smirks faintly, nodding before launching himself back into the fray.
As the battle drags on, exhaustion begins to creep in, but I refuse to let it show. The robots don't tire, don't hesitate. Every movement is calculated, every strike intended to kill. But something shifts. Our rhythm strengthens, every action synchronized like clockwork. Menace lands a brutal kick to one robot, sending it crashing into another, and I finish them both with a sweeping slash.
"Push forward!" he shouts, his voice firm and steady despite the chaos.
I nod, charging ahead with him. The tide of battle turns in our favor, one mechanical corpse at a time. When the last robot falls, its glowing core dimming as it crumples to the ground, the silence that follows is deafening.
Breathing hard, I glance at Menace. His armor is battered, his knuckles bloodied, but he looks victorious.
"We're not just surviving anymore," I say, my voice low but resolute. "We're winning."
He grins faintly, shouldering his bow. "Damn right we are."
In that moment, amidst the wreckage of our enemies, I feel it too. We're more than a team. We're unstoppable.
LEONARD
The air inside International School of Stavanger reeks of scorched metal and desperation. The soldiers crouch behind overturned desks, sweat beading on their foreheads as they struggle to reload empty magazines. Their once-commanding orders have devolved into frantic shouts, barely masking the fear etched across their faces. The sound of metallic claws scraping against tiles echoes ominously. Somewhere in the chaos, frightened cries from the captured students fuel the urgency of our mission.
I don't wait.
"Let's get the students out." I say to the soldiers, already surging into motion. The world becomes a blur of green energy as I streak through the battlefield, faster than the human eye can track. My boots barely touch the ground before I'm at the first cluster of robots. One swings its razor-sharp appendage toward me, but I phase left, my body an afterimage. My fist slams into its torso, an electric pulse discharging through its core. The machine stutters, sparks erupting as it collapses into a smoking heap.
I don't stop. The students need me.
Behind a fortified door, I find the hostages, their terrified faces peeking out from the shadows. A dozen robots guard the room. They turn toward me, blue eyes flashing, but they're too slow. I lunge forward, releasing a cascade of green lightning that arcs through the room. The bolts dance across their metal frames, cooking their circuits. The last bot convulses, its claw raised impotently, before collapsing in a heap.
"Move! Now!" I shout, leading the students out while shielding them from stray enemy fire. Soldiers rush to cover us, one collapsing beside me, his weapon clicking empty. I grab his shoulder.
"Get back, I'll handle this."
A laser beam streaks toward us, but before it lands, the hallway trembles. The sound of shattering tile cuts through the chaos like a gunshot.
Lycon Wolf has arrived.
He's a towering force of nature, his muscled frame cloaked in thick, bristling fur. His red eyes gleam with feral intensity as he leaps into the fray. The first robot barely has time to react before his claws swipe clean through its torso, severing wires and metal with the ease of tearing paper. Sparks rain as he tears into another, his jaws clamping around its head. With a bone-rattling snarl, he rips it off in one savage motion, tossing the crumpled piece of machinery aside like trash.
The sight fills me with an almost reckless confidence.
Lycon Wolf roars, the sound echoing through the hall. More robots flood toward him, their mechanical limbs clicking with precision. But he's unstoppable. One charges from his blind spot, aiming for his back, but I dart in, a streak of green light. My lightning discharges mid-air, the crackling energy reducing the bot to molten debris.
"Nice save," he growls, his voice deep and guttural, his lips curling into a bloodied snarl.
"Don't slow down!" I quip, already gone, racing toward another wave.
Together, we rip through the mechanical horde. Lycon Wolf fights with primal brutality—slashing, biting, smashing. Every swipe of his claws leaves a trail of severed limbs and ruined circuitry. His tail swings like a battering ram, knocking enemies into walls with thunderous impacts. One robot dares to grapple him, its claws sinking into his shoulder. With a furious roar, he grabs it by the legs, slamming it repeatedly into the ground until it's nothing but scraps.
Meanwhile, I'm pure speed. I dart between enemies, lightning coursing through my fists as I dismantle them with surgical precision. I send an electrified kick into one's chest, propelling it into a cluster of its comrades. My energy surges outward, arcing between them, and they collapse like dominos, circuits fried.
In the chaos, I spot soldiers retreating, their weapons useless against the relentless tide. One stumbles, cornered by two bots. Without hesitation, I dive in, a bolt of green light. My charge connects, disintegrating one robot on impact. The second lunges, but Lycon Wolf barrels in from nowhere, slamming the bot into the wall with enough force to crack the concrete.
The fight grows fiercer as the remaining robots recalibrate, adapting to our movements. Their lasers paint the room in a deadly red haze, but we're a storm they can't contain. I zigzag through their fire, launching bursts of lightning to disrupt their formations, while Lycon Wolf uses the chaos to close the distance. His claws rend through their ranks, leaving a trail of carnage.
A particularly massive robot stomps forward, its cannon glowing ominously. Lycon Wolf growls, his muscles coiling as he prepares to charge.
"Wait!" I shout. I gather every ounce of energy, green lightning crackling around me as I launch a concentrated blast. The bolt strikes the robot's cannon, causing a chain reaction. It explodes in a brilliant flash, the shockwave rippling through the hallway. Lycon Wolf shields a group of cowering soldiers with his massive frame, the flames licking harmlessly at his fur.
Finally, the last robot collapses. The air is thick with smoke and the stench of burnt metal. The soldiers stare in stunned silence, their weapons hanging limply in their hands. Beside me, Lycon Wolf straightens, his fur matted with oil and grime, his chest heaving from exertion.
"We good?" I ask, my voice still buzzing with adrenaline.
Lycon Wolf huffs, a low, satisfied growl. "For now."
But even as we stand amidst the wreckage, the unmistakable sound of mechanical footsteps echoes from deeper within the school. I glance at Lycon Wolf. His eyes meet mine, blazing with untamed fury.
"We're not done yet," I mutter.
"Good," he rumbles, baring his bloodied fangs.
Together, we turn toward the sound, ready to face whatever comes next.
To be continued....