Sorry if I sound new to this timeline (I am by the way), but what is this Roraism thing about? Because I know about is that it is a new religion revolves around the worship of a woman named Rora (which may or may not be a Metahuman).
Sorry if I sound new to this timeline (I am by the way), but what is this Roraism thing about? Because I know about is that it is a new religion revolves around the worship of a woman named Rora (which may or may not be a Metahuman).
Rora isn't a Metahuman as she isn't a human. She is a Goddess though what is and isn't consider a God is pretty nebulous. But Rora is the more traditional version of a God that being a powerful supernatural entity capable of altering reality in a number of ways who grows stronger with worship and is in command of an afterlife. Rora's realm is a pocket universe mixture of Mediterranean Caribbean seas filled with an infinite number of islands that a person can sail too. Along side that she has angels/sea women that inhabit that universe.
Her followers can some time gain temporary powers or gifts which can range from growing gills to casting fire to most commonly extreme luck in extreme situations or have minor miracle happens through belief. For example there was a Roraist freedom fighter in a previous chapter that went into battle with a gun that didn't have any bullets and some how still managed to do damage. That last bit is actually similar to and inspired by strangely enough the Orks from 40k though far more tone down.
In terms of powers Rora is a mix of Storm, Wonder Woman and Big E with a little of Old Testament Abrahamic God thrown in there. She also described herself as a self contained paradox meaning she can have a creation myth that completely contradicts another God's creation myth and both be true at the same time.
Also thanks for reading I hope you enjoy the timeline.
-Taken From New Afrikan Military Uniform Illustrated Overview Drawn By Heart Harkon and Written By Thomas H Vonwell Sr 2025.
————
The actual images is a mixture of hand edits, photoshop, ai, and a few other edits I made.
The metallic clank of the iron heel on Jagger's freshly polished jackboot echoed along the aluminum floors of the converted passenger jet as smoke came from the cigar that hung halfway out his mouth. Beside him were rows of sideways-facing seats, each engineered to occupy the bare minimum of space—enough to cram a battalion of troops into this airborne behemoth. Twenty-five transport jets were filled with soldiers, while another dozen carried vehicles. And then, of course, there was the more secretive cargo: Valkyrie flying drones and micro aircraft carriers, designed to clear the skies for the main jets launching from the carrier fleet.
Among this chaotic orchestra of war were the few brave—or reckless—members of the actual U.S. military, specifically the United States Marine Corps, the only group of the US military willing to participate in what was shaping up to be a monumental clusterfuck. They would support the landing operations at the ports. As Jagger walked, his mind raced ahead to the assault on France, his thoughts crystallizing into his next orders.
"Alright, boys!" Jagger's voice boomed his Cajun accent slipping into full force, commanding the attention of every soldier in the cabin. "We 'bout to drop into London. I ain't got much of a speech for y'all, but lemme tell ya dis: y'all are the 1st and 2nd Airborne, de best the African Legion Army Air Corps got to offer. We got the African Legion Naval Assets backin' ya up, 'long with de United States Marine Corps."
He paused, his steely gaze peering through his completely black sunglasses as it sweaped across the cabin. "Good news, mes amis—we halfway dere! We done made it 'cross dat Atlantic. Now, we takin' de first of many steps to liberate France from itself. But 'fore we go savin' dem Frenchies for de third time in a hundred years, we gotta lock down some key spots in de UK."
His tone darkened. "Now, we got reason to believe dem Brits might be compromised. Dat's why we launchin' dis here aggressive action—to secure de spots we need and keep 'nother country from fallin' into dat Sentinel Metahuman Regime. Remember, each one o' y'all carry not just de weight of ya gear, but de hope of our people and de pride of our nation. De eyes of de world on ya. What ya do today, it gonna go down in history—not ya name, maybe, but ya actions? Dey gonna live forever.."
He clenched his fist. "When we jump from de safety of dis here plane down to de city, trust in ya trainin', trust in ya comrades, and trust in yaselfs. Now, gear up, stand tall, and let's show de world what true warriors made of.!"
With that, the rear hatch of the 747 yawned open, revealing the gray, windswept skies of London below.
Cillian Archibald "Archer" Harp awoke to a deafening rumble that seemed to shake the very walls of his home. He stumbled out of bed, hastily throwing on his uniform, the closest thing within reach, still stained from yesterday's patrol.
"Arthur!" he shouted, calling for his son as he bolted into the front garden. He was greeted by his usually composed neighbor, now standing paralyzed with fear, eyes fixed on the sky. Following their gaze, Archer's own eyes widened in disbelief as he spotted a massive 747, flying low, its engines roaring like thunder.
At first, he thought they were specks falling from the back of the plane, but then the parachutes opened—bright canopies blossoming against the morning sky, slowing the descent of soldiers in blue uniforms. Before Archer could react, the butt of a rifle cracked against his skull. As everything went black, his last thoughts were of his son and his safety.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, IT'S GO TIME, BABY!" Grey shouted, his voice cutting through the roar of engines and the blaring of alarms. The New Afrikan version of the Red Army March blared over the radio, a grim anthem for what was about to unfold. The disguised cargo ship smashed into the docks of the Port of London, its front ramp crashing down as dozens of armored Humvees—some outfitted with heavy guns, others with mobile Patriot batteries—rolled off, followed by tanks, armored pickups, and hundreds of New Afrikan mariners, alongside the U.S. Marines.
"My comrade, my comrade!" Grey yelled, waving towards a group of soldiers by a stack of shipping containers. "Is everything ready?"
"Yes, comrade!" shouted a woman with a thick Russian accent, her voice cutting through the din. Her uniform bore the markings of Spetsnaz unlike the ww2 styles of the others of her group, but the patch on her shoulder read "African Legion." She was one of the "Ayueks"—a term used for the white and non-Black American units of the African Legion, led by Soulanni officers, most of whom were immigrants or refugees seeking citizenship in America or the New Afrikan Autonomous Zone.
Grey leapt onto the hull of a Turner tank—too heavy for the 747 but perfect for transport by sea. The Turner was a hybrid, merging elements of the XM1A3 Abrams with a simplified system and a modified gun, streamlined for urban warfare. It bristled with quad mini loitering kamikaze drones, hauled from a discarded German Panther design, and featured side racks for additional armor plating.
Raising an AK-47 above his head, Grey shouted as the tank rumbled forward, "The Americans are coming! The Americans are coming! Light three lanterns—by land, by sea, and by air—the Americans are coming!"
The tank, flanked by up-armored pickup trucks with M249 SAW machine guns rigged to remote turrets, rolled into the city, a juggernaut of steel and fire. The invasion had begun.
The transport plane slammed onto the tarmac of the airbase, bouncing hard before screeching to a halt. Almost immediately, British airmen armed with rifles surrounded it, their eyes fixed on the cargo door as it hissed open. Out stepped a young woman, barely 4 feet 8 inches tall. She had a pair of strange, cat-like ears poking out from her head, and a long brown tail swayed in the soft late summer breeze. Her sharp teeth formed a predatory smile as she surveyed the men around her.
"Gentlemen, I am Colonel Heart Harkon of the African Legion," she announced, her voice calm but commanding. "Behind me," her tail waved back towards the group of soldiers "Are members of the United States Marine Corps. And right behind them, F-16s and F-22s flanked by hundreds of drones, but don't worry—they ain't comin' for you. See, I recognize your bravery, and your willingness to die right now. But those planes? They're headed straight for your families. We know where they live, and we will not hesitate to pay them a visit if y'all don't put their guns down," Heart lied smoothly. It was a bluff, but a good one; fear flickered across the face of one soldier, and he threw down his rifle. The rest followed suit in a wave of surrender.
Heart's smile widened. "Smart choice, soldiers. Today, everybody lives," she said, turning back to her own troops. "Everything's gonna be alright."
Back in London, Jagger strode through the grand halls of the Parliament building, his AK raised high as he fired shots into the air, the sound echoing like thunder. Lords and members of the House of Commons were being corralled into the chamber alongside the King and Queen. Between the crack of gunfire, the song "War With Us" by NBA YoungBoy blared from his radio, and Jagger began to rap along with the lyrics, his voice a harsh growl.
"I got it on my mind, yeah. A whole lotta bullets flyin', yeah. All my boys slangin' iron, yeah. On my mama, I ain't lyin', yeah," he chanted, smashing a group of antiques on a nearby shelf with a sweeping blow.
He turned his gaze on the terrified lawmakers, grinning wickedly. "These Brits be bitches, they bitches with 'em in disguise. They claimin' that they real, but I can see it in they eyes. You know I'm out that gang and you know that I won't stop. Don't go against the grain, bitch, we headed to the top," Jagger laughed, taking a swig from a bottle and firing at a portrait of the last king as he stormed into the House of Commons.
"You bitches don't want war with us, yeah! You bitches don't want war with us, yeah! I'm screamin', 'Who wants war with us?' Nah-nah-nah, yeah," he taunted, locking eyes with the King and his wife. "Well well well now look who it is Willy and Meghan Markle's ugly sister-in-law," he sneered. The Queen Consort glared at him, but Jagger just chuckled. "Aw, don't look at me like dat, girl. You picked the ugly one with dat mild pattern baldness and a history of cheatin'. Willy, man, just shave it all off already and grow a beard—ya look better dat way! Ain't nobody here to stop ya now; Daddy and Grandmama too busy havin' a flaming hot tea party with Thatcher."
Jagger's cackles echoed through the chamber as he fired more rounds into the ceiling, making everyone duck and flinch. He dropped the gun and began clapping as the handcuffed Defense Minister was dragged in. "Ah, goodie! Right on time—by de CPT scale, but good enough."
Archer, the Defense Minister, tried to shout something through the rope gag in his mouth. Jagger leaned in, cupping a hand to his ear. "What's that, Archer? Lil' Timmy stuck in the well?" he joked, pulling the gag from Archer's mouth. "Now, what were ya—" He didn't finish before Archer's fist cracked against his jaw.
"Fuck you!" the Defense Minister roared as Jagger stumbled back, spitting out blood and laughing.
"I knew I was gonna like you, Archer. Read all 'bout ya. Kinda remind me of myself—'cept, you know, less sexy on account of bein' British. Sorry 'bout dat."
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Archer demanded, glaring at Jagger.
Jagger grinned. "Invadin' France," he said casually, strolling over to the Queen. He ripped a brooch off her dress and tossed it in the air before catching it. "Think Imani gonna like dis? Gotta bring somethin' back for her. Lord knows it can't be dat bland-ass shit y'all call food."
"France? I don't know if the fuckin' giant bloody clock outside gave it away, but this ain't France, you fuckin' maniac!" Archer shouted.
"Well, duh, but it's close enough for what we got planned. If you gonna do D-Day part two, ya gotta start somewhere, cher."
"When Imani ordered this, there's no way you're gettin' away with it," Archer growled.
"Nuh-uh," Jagger replied nonchalantly.
"THE FUCK YOU MEAN NUH-UH? YOU JUST INVADED AN ALLY NATION! YOU UNDERSTAND THAT, RIGHT? YOU UNDERSTAND HARRIS AIN'T GONNA LET THAT SLIDE? THAT'S THE END OF THE—"
"Who you think signed off on this, huh?" Jagger cut him off, smirking. "You think we just picked up the USMC on the way over here, chump? This ain't just a New Afrikan operation; it's got the backin' of the United States of America." He turned to the King. "Dat's right, redcoats, we back!"
"Bullshit! I don't believe you," the King stammered.
"Good thing I don't give a damn dey a bunch of inbred German figureheads larping as Anglos gotta say," Jagger shot back, his grin widening. He turned back to Archer, still grinning. "I ain't kiddin', though. The whole royal family ain't even British—they's some dasty Germans! Changed their names during World War One when things got awkward. But then again, all them royals are related anyhow. One big ol' family tree that don't fork."
"How dare you—" the Queen Consort started to say, but Jagger cut her off.
"Ma'am, respectfully, shut the hell up while the grown folks are talkin',"
"We are—" William began, but Jagger waved him off.
"Meanin'less figureheads," he spat. "You're nothin' but a judge with a gavel in a courtroom. You exist to have your face on the money and please a bunch of geezers who somehow believe your shit don't stink. At least your brother got off his ass and did somethin'—even if it was just bombin' kids in the Middle East. And your dad, that sausage-fingered fool, ain't good for much, either. And you, Willie—ya momma was hot, but you? You a loser, cher."
Jagger's taunting voice filled the chamber, a mixture of mockery and amusement as the British royalty and politicians looked on, shocked and helpless. He couldn't help but smile and relish in that moment of performance. The crazy Cajun brute with no brain, a thug with no mind is and always was what he loved to present himself as, it was disarming in a way.
Archer's phone started to ring. He raised a hand, signaling for quiet. "…Hold that thought."
"Ibeen holdin' dat shit since dis mission started, cher," Jagger drawled, his impatience evident as Archer answered the call.
Jagger's gaze wandered around the room until he noticed a small camera nestled in a far corner, its lens fixed on him. The defense minister smirked. "That's for you," he said, nodding toward the camera.
Jagger cocked his head. "…Yeah?" he answered casually. A loud, angry voice immediately boomed from the other end.
"YOU MOTHERFUCKER! WE AIN'T YOUR ENEMY, SO QUIT VILIFYIN' US, YOU CUNT!"
Jagger winced, pulling the phone slightly away from his ear as the familiar voice rang out, fierce and intense. But then, just as quickly, the tone shifted to a calm, almost refined politeness.
"Though this country and its royals have made a vast plethora of mistakes, I doubt your gallivantin' about like some big ol' bully's gonna solve any of that, especially when the real threat's sittin' pretty over in France…"
Jagger's eyes narrowed. "Oh, you mean sittin' on dat big ol' pile o' gold and blood y'all stole from every corner o' de earth? Dat's one helluva mistake, cher. Not sure what's worse—doin' all dat for spices y'ain't even got da good sense to use. Who da hell are you, anyhow?"
"Someone with a bit of sway over the royals," the voice replied coolly.
"An' why should I give a damn 'bout dat?"
"Because that sway includes William."
Jagger chuckled. "An' why da hell should I care 'bout ol' Habsburg jaw ?"
"Allow me or someone a bit more… reasonable to handle the negotiatin' from here, how 'bout that?" the woman suggested.
Jagger turned to Cillian Archer. "Archie, can I call ya that? You hearin' this?"
"The phone's on speaker," Archer replied tersely. "And no, you may never call me that again."
Jagger gave a half-shrug, still grinning. "A'ight, Archie. Here's de deal. I'm gon' need y'all to get your folks ready to back our invasion of France."
"Why the hell would we do that?" Archer shot back.
"President Harris done gave me full command o' your armed forces, cher. Trust me, if I take over, I'm dressin' y'all up like redcoats an' sendin' ya on some good ol' fashioned frontal assaults. A lil' blast from de past, non."
"You threatening my men?" Archer growled.
"Naw, dat be da president," the Cajun replied with a smirk.
"Mind if I interject?" the woman on the phone cut in. "Before you boys get too heated?"
Jagger chuckled. "I dunno who this guy is, but sure," he joked, throwing in a corny dad joke.
"We can both agree that the French government, as it stands, is a hostile entity. An enemy to peace, wouldn't you say?" she proposed. Everyone in the room nodded in agreement, though Kate added dryly, "At least the French didn't break into my house."
"How 'bout folk down from Louisiana?" Jagger quipped.
Kate rolled her eyes, then deadpanned, "On second thought, I hate the French."
The woman on the phone continued, "Then I'm simply suggesting that it would be more reasonable not to use your allies—who might be the first boots on the ground—as cannon fodder. If we fight one another, they win. If you wanna beat the French, then let us join in the fun."
"We cool?" Jagger asked, not really waiting for an answer. "Yeah, we cool. See ya…" he added with a dismissive wave.
"Just one more thing," the woman on the phone interjected, "And… turn the volume down a bit."
Jagger turned the volume knob until it was just a notch above mute. Suddenly, she screamed into the phone:
"IF YOU DARE THREATEN A HAIR ON MY SON'S HEAD OR HIS WIFE'S, I WILL END YOUR FUCKING EXISTENCE!"
Jagger burst out laughing. "Whoo! Dat's one fiery momma bear! I see where your boy gets his gumption from. But since you seem like one o' da few with a lick o' sense on dis godforsaken island, you got my word—I'll do my best to keep your lil' sperm muffin alive, cher."
The call ended with a click. Jagger tossed the phone back to Archer and turned to King William. "…Your momma's scary as a gator in heat, I tell ya. Kinda hot, too. Is she into cat girls? I got a friend—"
"Just get the hell out, please," Archer cut him off.
"Fine, fine," Jagger said, turning to leave. Then he stopped, pointing a finger at William. "Oh, an' Billy, I was serious 'bout da beard an' goin' full bald. Pair dat wit' a gold crown an' some fancy threads, an' sure, you'll still be da ugly brother. But at least you won't look like da sleazy stepdad in some 1990s kid's movie.."
And with that, Jagger swaggered out, leaving the room in stunned silence.
—-
August 10th, 2025
There were 250 ways for Reaper and Destiny to neutralize the guard with the MP5 standing over the submarine's hatch—300 if they included lethal options, though the last 50 were strictly off-limits. The guard, barely able to see, peered down into the submarine's hatch, where smoke mingled with fear gas billowed up from the pitch-black depths. Unseen, Reaper and Destiny crouched at the bottom of the sub, watching the guard from the shadows.
"How do you want to handle this?" Destiny whispered.
"Well, out of all the possibilities, there are only two real categories: loud and flashy, or quiet and subtle. Your call."
"We're not in Neo Atlanta anymore," Destiny said with a sly grin, which made Ace smirk.
"Loud and flashy it is, then," he agreed.
In a synchronized motion, they leapt from their hidden perch, striking the guard with a swift kick that sent him tumbling off the sub and splashing into the icy water below.
The hidden base, carved meticulously from Arctic ice and rock, was first sculpted by nature and later refined by the French, who now used it as a stronghold for their rogue pro-Junta navy. The entrance, where Reaper and Destiny's hijacked submarine was docked, was a jagged, narrow passage—a natural fissure in the glacier widened and fortified with concrete and steel to handle the heavy submarine traffic. The interior of the facility sprawled into a high-tech maze, a blend of steel, ice, and secrecy.
Armed soldiers, who had been marching along their routine patrol routes just moments earlier, now aimed their rifles at the two teenage superheroes.
"Xander, you know what to do," Destiny commanded over the comm system embedded in her suit.
"Already on it," Xander replied, his fingers flying over the hijacked submarine's controls as he hacked into the base's security network.
Despite everything that had happened with Adisa, Ace couldn't help but grin. "Let's go crazy," he said, as Prince's iconic song blared through their comms. Together, they dodged a hail of bullets, vaulting off the catwalk and landing with feline grace.
*'Cause in this life
Things are much harder than in the Afterworld
In this life
You're on your own
And if the de-elevator tries to bring you down
Go crazy (Punch a higher floor) Whoo*
The French soldiers re-aimed their rifles, firing wildly toward the upper catwalk, their shots ringing out in a chaotic chorus.
*If you don't like
The world you're living in
Take a look around
At least you have friends You see, I called my old lady*
Reaper and Destiny sprinted through the smoke and fear gas bombs, their movements fluid and precise. They leapt onto a higher beam, swinging down with powerful kicks that sent two guards crashing onto the base floor below. In a single, acrobatic move, they had neutralized six guards for the price of two, landing where the previous enemies had stood.
*For a friendly word
She picked up the phone
Dropped it on the floor "Ah, ah," is all I heard*
Destiny hurled her mini-scythe with deadly precision, slicing through a light fixture and sending it crashing to the ground. The shattered light sparked and sputtered, scattering the junta soldiers like startled rats.
*Are we gonna let the de-elevator bring us down? Oh, no, let's go*
A French soldier scrambled to man a machine gun mounted on a pickup truck as another drove toward Reaper and Destiny, spraying bullets up toward the catwalk. Reaper fired a cluster of sticky webs from his gauntlet, gumming up the truck's wheels and causing it to skid to a stop. Destiny leapt down onto the windshield, her impact shattering the glass as she pulled the driver through it, tossing him into a mid-air kick from Ace. The driver was sent sprawling as Ace landed on the truck's hood and punched the machine gunner with a brutal uppercut.
*Let's go crazy
Let's get nuts
Let's look for the purple banana
Until they put us in the truck, let's go Come.*
Destiny's eyes widened as she sensed danger. "Reaper, move!" she shouted. The two heroes flipped backward, kicking two guards as they flew through the air. A third soldier fired an RPG at the truck, the explosion engulfing the spot where they had just been standing in a fiery blast.
*We're all excited
But we don't know why
Maybe it's 'cause We're all gonna die*
The RPG-wielding soldier drew his rifle, spraying bullets at Destiny and Ace, who dodged the gunfire with a series of swift maneuvers. They quickly regrouped, landing a synchronized double punch that floored the soldier. Suddenly, a towering figure loomed over them—a monstrous soldier, nearly seven and a half feet tall, wielding a massive greatsword in one hand and a heavy woodsman's axe in the other. A huge bear skull adorned his belt, its fur hanging like a grotesque cloak from his shoulders.
"IT'S TIME TO END THIS GAME! YOU WON'T LEAVE HERE ALIVE!" the giant bellowed, charging toward them with terrifying speed.
"Did he really just quote Skyrim in 2025?" Destiny remarked, nodding toward Ace. He sighed beneath his mask, raising his gauntlet and firing a series of pin-like projectiles into the giant's chest.
The behemoth looked down at the pins and laughed. "YOU THINK YOUR PUNY DARTS CAN STOP ME, YOU PATHETIC GHOST MAN—"
*And when we do (when we do)
What's it all for (what's it all for)
You better live now Before the Grim Reaper comes knocking on your door…*
The giant's taunt was cut short as the pins injected a synthetic version of Sammy's Skin Walker venom—more potent than a bullet ant's sting but mercifully less excruciating. The man's laughter turned into a scream of agony as the venom coursed through his veins, dropping him to his knees before he collapsed, unconscious.
"What?" Ace shrugged. "The song's about to end, and I wanted some time to dance after all the fighting." He extended his hand to Destiny. "What do you say, partner?"
"I say," Destiny replied with a smile, letting Prince's lyrics finish for her as she took Ace's hand, "Let's go crazy…"
Reaper swung Destiny around by her hands, lifting her into the air as she kicked out, sending another charging guard sprawling. The two began a rhythmic dance-fight, their movements seamlessly blending combat and choreography as the music continued to play.
*Let's get nuts
Look for the purple banana
Until they put us in the truck, let's go
C'mon, baby
Let's get nuts
Yeah
(Crazy) Let's go crazy*
The song blared through the chaos of the battlefield, the two superheroes moving like a force of nature, dancing and fighting with reckless abandon.
"So, you kicked their asses, to Prince?" Captain Slaughter tossed water bottles to the now maskless but still-armored Destiny and Ace as they descended the ramp of the Wraith jet, which had just landed on the helipad of the Syndicate base. "Gotta say, I'm a bit jealous. Though I did get to meet the guy in person a few times back in the '80s. There was also this one time, me, Michael Jackson, and Santell had to save the world from some evil Nazi necromancer who was trying to bring Hitler back as a lich using some kind of alien space magic."
"What the hell is your life even about, Slaughter?" Destiny laughed, taking a sip from her water bottle. "Every story you tell is crazier than the last."
"Says the two kids who dress up like ghosts and fight crime," Slaughter shot back with a smirk.
"Fair point," Ace chuckled as he took a drink.
"No, this shit is tame compared to that!" Destiny quipped, gesturing to her superhero suit.
"So, anyway, where is everybody?" Ace asked, glancing around.
"They're having an end-of-the-world cookout out back," Captain Slaughter replied, adjusting his tactical plate carrier.
Ace and Destiny exchanged amused glances. "Who's on the grill?" they asked in unison.
"Bishop, me, and Bat," Slaughter answered.
"Oh, that's a bet," Destiny grinned as the three of them made their way around the facility to the back, where the other members of the superhero team were gathered around a fire pit. Some were eating BBQ, while others sipped on beers or sodas, relaxing in the warm evening air.
Most of them weren't in full costume, opting for civilian clothes or a mix of both.
"What's up?" Ms. Amerika greeted, sitting between Desert and Rora, as Destiny and Ace sat down on a nearby log.
"So, how was the ice bath?" Ms. Amerika teased.
"It was chill," Ace replied with a grin. "No signs of any submerged nukes or warheads. What about Vena?"
"They're still debating whether to accept our offer," Reeves said, walking over. "But the fact that the junta has submarines could serve as evidence they might have nukes."
"I thought they said the subs didn't have any nukes," Black Bat interjected.
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean they didn't just offload them for transport over land," Reeves explained. "The subs are nuclear-powered, so there's a chance they could carry warheads."
"It was an unknown unknown," Captain Slaughter added. "Just because we don't have evidence of them possessing WMDs doesn't necessarily mean there's an absence of evidence—just that we may not have observed it yet."
"Slaughter, that didn't make any damn sense," Jade said, rolling her eyes.
Cap took a swig of his beer. "Worked well enough in Iraq, at least for a while," he muttered.
"Don't remind me," Reeves groaned, having served in Iraq alongside Rita, who was now chatting with Liberty at one of the tables, nursing a beer.
"Whatever. Is the food ready?" Sammy asked, turning to Bishop.
"Yeah, should be," Bishop replied before calling over to Blur. "Hey, Blur, where're the buns?"
"Who the hell bought these cheap-ass Great Value buns?" Blur complained.
"Who do you think?" Uncle Sam chimed in, with Rora adding, "Black Bat."
"Man, why'd you get those nasty, cheap-ass buns?" John Doe grumbled.
"Tastes like prison pillows," someone muttered.
"Because I'm the one who drove over an hour to the nearest Walmart to get them," Black Bat retorted.
"Drove?" Captain Slaughter raised an eyebrow. "Why the hell is your blind ass driving anywhere?"
"Oh, damn, I didn't think you'd go all ableist on me," Black Bat shot back. "I should've seen that coming."
"First of all, how the hell am I being ableist by caring about public safety? Secondly, you didn't see shit coming—that's the whole damn point! You're literally blind as a bat!"
"Can someone just go get the buns?" Amanda said, exasperated.
"Yeah, I'm starving, and Bishop made me some halal dogs," Mia added.
"I got them right here," Blur said, appearing suddenly with a bag of fresh buns.
"That was fast," Europa remarked.
"Faster for me," Blur grinned. "What did you call it, Bishop?"
"Super Luminal Time Dilation," Bishop began to explain. "Basically, when Blur breaks the speed of light, he isn't using warp drives or jumping through hyperspace or wormholes—those concepts don't apply. Instead, since he's moving faster than causality and the speed of light, which are the basis of our understanding of time—"
"In English, Bishop?" Ace interrupted.
"When he moves at FTL outside or warp or hyperspace speed he transcends traditional cause and effect as thus his version of time is relative to his perception," Bishop clarified. "His emotional state influences how he perceives time. Both realities are true and false simultaneously, as logic tends to break down when you defy the fundamental laws of the universe."
"What he said," Blur shrugged. "Anyway, I got the buns, so let's eat!"
"So, any updates on stopping the apocalypse?" Rita asked.
"We're still ironing out the details, but Vena has pretty much agreed, at least quietly, not to use nukes in a first strike for now. Harris agreed to the same," Reaper said.
"That being said, there's still ongoing conflict, although it's non-nuclear, mostly between American special forces who were dropped in unofficially and have since lost all contact, and Venan special forces that have been cut off from communication due to their rapid advance beyond their expected routes," Rora added.
"Legion and Ace are using their satellites to track both sides down. Once we locate them, we'll send in a Quick Reaction Force (QRF) to intervene and maintain the peace," Bishop said.
"You can understand all that from the last briefing, but you can't understand paying your share of the rent," Bishop joked.
"No comment," Rora quipped back.
"You're asking a goddess to pay rent?" Rita asked, amused, as Europa chimed in, "So, who's gonna be on the QRF team?"
"The team's gonna be mixed—a few from Legion, a few from us, and some from the UK," Bishop replied.
"Cool, cool. Rita, Santell, me, and Reeves can go," Jamie said, taking a bite of his hamburger. "Who are the blokes from my motherland gonna be?"
"Hope it's not gonna be Winters. I don't feel like jumping in if he and Strong Man start throwing punches," Bishop said.
"Why would you intervene?" Black Bat asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Are you secretly a Russian or something?" Ms. Amerika teased.
"Nah, Strong Man is my cousin," Bishop explained.
Europa blinked in surprise. "We have Russian cousins?"
"Yeah, a few in Eastern Europe. Ivan is like our second cousin. He's mostly cool—a bit of a tankie, but outside of politics, he's good people," Bishop said.
"Look, he may be your cousin, but in a fight, I'm rooting for the underdog," Reeves admitted.
"Bishop, you gotta let Europa link up with the rest of her fam," Mia suggested, but then she saw everyone staring at her. "Sorry, Xander's been teaching me slang, and I thought it'd be cool to say it."
"That boy knows he's wrong for that," Destiny said, clicking her tongue, while Ace added in English, "Xan done set you up. You good, though. Just don't try using too many words like that together." Then, switching back to English, he asked, "Where is the Xan man, anyway?"
"Right here," Xander's voice crackled over the comms as a secondary Wraith Jet, sleek and silent, landed nearby. As he stepped out, he added, "By the way, Mr. Masters says to treat this one better than the old model."
"I don't know what he's talking about. I'm a great flyer," Ace grinned, prompting Santell to quip, "Ace, the last time I flew with you, I feared for my life… and I'm dead."
"Very funny, Ronda Dangerfield," Ace sneered with a smile.
"I'll be here all week… or until someone presses the big red button and kills us all," Santell shot back with a heavy dose of gallows humor.
"That reminds me, I need to talk to you in private," she said to Ace, who looked a bit confused.
Sammy pulled a funny face. "I know where this is going," she teased, sipping her beer.
"…Not that kind of talk!" Santell hissed. "It's important, but I'll chat with you about it later."
"We're fine. Everything will work itself out—it always does," Xander said optimistically.
"Anyway, Bishop, I heard you were in Belgium again."
"Yeah, had to stop a fire at a tech center. Only got called a monkey a few times by the locals," Bishop replied.
Blur laughed. "Sorry, man. It's not funny, but it kinda is. Me, personally, I would've put them back in their place."
"No, you wouldn't," Destiny joked.
"Fine, fine, but for real, BP, you gotta start standing up to those folks. Let 'em know you're Black Power in this motherfucker," Blur insisted.
"I don't even worry about it, really. I mean, yeah, it stings a bit, but I'm used to it. Gotta save people, no matter what," Bishop said calmly.
"Yeah, can't let what those ofays say get to you," Ace nodded.
"Ofays? Man, what are you, a 1970s blaxploitation star?" Sammy laughed.
"Nah, it's just since The Placement, the A's been picking up a lot of new slang from the old-timers. It has a way of sticking," Ace explained.
Xander added, "No cap, it's got us sounding like some jive-ass turkeys from back in the day, you feel me?"
Bishop couldn't help but laugh as he pulled the fried fish out of the grease. "Man, don't ever say that mess again," he managed to say between chuckles.
"So, what are you guys gonna do when school starts back up? I can't imagine holding down Neo Atlanta and writing papers," Amanda asked.
"Yeah, it's gonna be a challenge. I'm not sure if they're going to do mixed classes again or try to keep everything in person. But luckily, I've got Destiny and Mia to help me out," Ace replied. "What about you in Austin?"
Amanda shrugged. "I've got Cap, and with that insane Viking lady gone, it's mostly normal crime now. Still, I'm questioning what I should do after high school. I've been thinking about going full-time as a hero and ditching the whole double life after graduation."
"That's a pretty big decision," May J commented. "Going with no alter ego."
"It's not that bad," Blur said, swallowing another hot dog in one bite. "To be fair, though, I never really had much of an alter ego to begin with."
"I think you should think it over," Spader advised. "It's a big decision, and not even most of us have gone through with it."
Captain Slaughter placed a reassuring hand on Amanda's shoulder. "But we'll support you no matter what."
"Thanks, guys," Amanda smiled.
Destiny grinned. "Hey, that's what friends are for."
———
"You know, we should do this more often," Imani said, her gaze steady as she looked across the table at Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez.
"I'm guessing you mean the tea, not the invasion," AOC replied, raising an eyebrow.
Imani chuckled. "Well, that depends. If the president's footing the bill, I can think of a few places I'd like to send my soldiers on vacation. But no, I'm talking about sitting down and actually having a conversation, Alexandria."
"Your operation seems to be going smoothly," AOC remarked. "From what I've seen on the news, not a single casualty on your side, and, more impressively, your 'brute' hasn't harmed a single Brit."
Imani laughed softly. "Jagger can be quite effective—as long as you keep him on a short leash."
AOC squinted. "I'm almost afraid to ask in what way you mean that."
"Both ways, actually," Imani replied with a sly smile. "But I'm not here to discuss the situation in Europe."
"So, what military situation are you here to discuss?" AOC asked, her tone wary.
"I need you to relay a message to President Harris and Vice President Reeves," Imani said, leaning in. "I'm planning to annex several Gullah areas in South Carolina, and maybe parts of North Carolina. We need broader sea access, and cutting off economic opportunities for the Republican states wouldn't hurt either."
AOC blinked, stunned by the bluntness. "That's… direct. I wonder why you're telling me this. You do realize the president will—"
"—give a half-hearted response after a few Gullah rebels without insignias take over key points," Imani cut in smoothly. "She'll then call for calm, propose negotiations, and agree to let the New Afrikan Legion hold a referendum on annexation. Which, of course, will pass due to the demographics. Don't worry, Alexandria, your party will benefit as well."
"And how exactly would that be, Imani?" AOC asked, skeptical.
Imani's smile widened. "This move will further split the Republicans between their moderates and the far right, pushing the extremists into the Patriot Party. The moderates, realizing they can't win on their own, will have no choice but to work with your party. My people get more coastline, and your party gains new seats in the House. We won't even run candidates in those districts, provided that you and any Republicans who join only run one candidate for the Senate from the two states. As for the media, after the situation in France, they'll likely be distracted by the next great American victory—or by Black Power Rora or some other superhero saving the day again."
AOC sighed. "So, I don't really have a choice here, do I?"
"Of course, you do," Imani replied with a smirk. "Remember that phrase your party loved to use against both of us in 2016 and again in 2020? The lesser of two evils. Besides, there are additional perks. My NA-DIS and NSS will gladly help you deal with your anarchist problem in the Great Lakes and Northwest regions."
AOC looked puzzled. "Excuse me?"
"Oh, I forgot—the administration has been keeping you and the other progressives in the dark about the growing threat of alt-left terrorism. They don't trust you. But I recognize you as more moderate than you're often portrayed, and intelligent enough not to fall for the failed ideologies of these wannabe revolutionaries," Imani said, sliding an envelope across the table. "This is evidence that the JLA has already tried to kill you for working too closely with the moderates. They were stopped by John Henry and the Justice Commandos."
"I've never quite understood your stance on communism," AOC said slowly. "Domestically, you're as anti-communist as it gets, yet abroad, you're almost pro-Vena."
Imani nodded thoughtfully. "I view socialism—or aspects of it—much like the Venans do, and perhaps like you: useful in some respects, but only in moderation. It's a tool, to be used when needed."
She leaned back, her expression hardening. "Now, as for my disdain for white communists, it's simple: I see them as entitled complainers. Unlike people like us, who have to work twice as hard for half as much, they've had everything handed to them. They've had a 400-year head start and still failed in a game rigged for them. All they had to do was be mediocre. I mean, look at Greene. She doesn't deserve to be in the same House of Representatives as you."
"She's with the Patriot Party, not a communist," AOC corrected.
"It doesn't matter," Imani said dismissively. "Both sides of the same white coin—losers who want to pretend they're revolutionaries. In reality, they just want more handouts or to blame someone else for their problems. They are failures who refuse to take responsibility."
"And what about the anarchists?" AOC pressed.
"I despise them," Imani answered sharply. "Idiotic children, just like the white communists or right-wing extremists. At least the others talk about building something after their so-called revolution or restoring some imagined past. The anarchists have no plan, no vision, no real foresight. They're just children throwing tantrums."
"And what about anarchists of color?"
"I loathe them above all," Imani said coldly. "They're the most naive, believing we can exist without a state. The truth is the opposite: the only way we can be safe is through the strong hand of a state that can defend itself against recolonization."
"Do you really believe that?" AOC asked.
"A community that isn't protected by a strong regime willing to enforce order and justice through state power will always be vulnerable to destruction or conquest," Imani stated. "We must always be ready to enact violence against our enemies, and there's no better tool for that than the state. Non-white anarchists fail to grasp this. They believe we can coexist on equal footing with the 'ofays.' They think we can all hold hands and sing together. But the party knows the truth."
"And what's that?" AOC asked.
"The only time white people respect us is when we force them to," Imani said, finishing her tea. "Thankfully, that's becoming a reality with the rise of Vena, China, Brazil, and New Afrika. That's why I'm offering you a chance to join us."
"Why should I?" AOC asked.
Imani leaned forward. "Because the future belongs to us, Alexandria. The majority of the most powerful nations in history—even more if you count the Martians—are now controlled by people of color. The most powerful man in the sky is Black. An ebony goddess flies among our stars. We have a chance to set things right, to reverse the Maafa's effects for all colonized people on Earth. To bring justice and order to this world. And you can help us restore balance to the Earth. All you have to do is—"
"No."
Imani sighed, then laughed softly. "Well, I had to try. But if you ever change your mind—"
"I won't," AOC said firmly.
Imani stood, a smile still playing on her lips. "If you do, Alexandria, you know where to find me." As she walked away, she was handed a tablet by Nicky, showing reports on the mission in Europe.
"Everything is going as planned, ma'am?" Nicky inquired.
"As always," Imani replied, though she sighed. "However, Jagger not taking direct command of the British military is… a bit disappointing, to say the least."
"And why is that, Madam President?" Nicky asked, curious.
Imani sighed again, her gaze distant. "It introduces too many variables on the part of the British military leadership. I trust Jagger to be competent, but the British? They are a failed great power with a mediocre military. They haven't fought a peer-to-peer war in decades. Much like the Americans, the best they've managed are failed counterinsurgencies. Still, I suppose as long as there are extra bodies on the ground and more aircraft in the sky, they'll serve some purpose."
"Yes, ma'am. And how did the meeting go?" Nicky asked, changing the subject.
Imani's lips curled into a smile. "Promising," she replied. The president of New Afrika swiped through her tablet. "I need Jagger to have the RAF start targeting any remaining junta anti-air systems along the coastal defense lines of France. Better to risk their planes than ours on something that won't matter much in the propaganda. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Yes, ma'am. And what about the Royal Navy?"
"Have them support our seaborne assets in the region until our artillery ships are ready to bombard the French coastal countryside. When they're finished, I want that entire area to look like the surface of the moon."
"Yes, Madam President," Nicky replied before adding, "Anything else?"
"How are Kruger and Schmidt progressing with our little Gullah project?"
"Well, ma'am, the troops are already in position—unmarked but well-armed—and are waiting for any inciting incident."
Imani's smile widened. "That shouldn't take long. A hot summer day, some overzealous cop, and an unlucky brother or sister…"
"Indeed, ma'am," Nicky agreed.
Imani took a deep breath as she stepped out of the Capitol building, her gaze sweeping over Washington, D.C., toward the White House and a smile cracking on her face.
----
"Reeves, you see anything?" Rita's voice crackled over the comms system as she flew over her section of the island.
"Nothing yet. Are you sure this is the right place?" Reeves responded, scanning the terrain below.
"Ace is positive this is the location," Rita replied. "And he's not exactly the type to be wrong about these things... Wait, I'm picking up something beyond that ridgeline."
Reeves felt his stomach turn as he and Rita flew over the ridgeline. Below them was a massive, flaming clearing, the site of a recent battle. But the most horrifying sight wasn't the remnants of the skirmish—it was the bodies of American soldiers hanging from poles. Each was wrapped in a strange blanket, their entrails removed through small wounds that had been stitched back up. Below them, their guts were arranged in neat piles, like pyramids. Underneath, low-burning coals slowly roasted the flesh.
Nearby, other bodies—these wearing non-Venan but Songhai Pact camouflage—were impaled on spikes. Their ribs were split open, exposing a fire roaring in their hollowed-out chests. Their plucked, eyeless faces bore expressions of agony, their mouths frozen open as if they had died screaming.
"Jesus fucking Christ," Reeves muttered, feeling his own stomach churn, while Rita looked away, appearing on the verge of vomiting.
"Americans, come out and die! Face me with honor so you can die screaming like your friends did!" shouted a Venan soldier. His clothes were torn, barely covering his battered body, missing an ear, an eye, and part of his nose. Yet, he still held a spear firmly in his hand.
"Your friends fought well, but ten of your best soldiers were not equal to ten of our worst," he taunted, moving towards an injured SOF soldier. The soldier, seeing no point in negotiation, grabbed a stick—anything to defend himself. The sight made the Venan laugh.
"Very good! Fight to die with honor! Let me hear your screams as the lights go out, your very soul clinging to this mortal plane," he exclaimed, dropping his spear and raising his fists.
"Let us die screaming!"
"ENOUGH!" Zetaman and Columbia shouted, landing between them.
"You dare deny me this moment, American?" the Venan soldier sneered, turning his attention to the superheroes standing protectively by the injured soldier.
"He can't fight back. This ends now," Rita declared.
"He holds a stick and can still stand. He deserves a warrior's death," the Venan insisted, though his legs wobbled, his strength waning.
"You won't harm a hair on his head," Reeves threatened.
"Then I will kill all three of you," the Venan soldier snarled, blood pouring from his mouth. "Prepare yourselves for death!"
"Are you really that fucking insane?! What the hell is wrong with you?!" Columbia exclaimed.
The man growled, "It is my birthright to die in battle, to feel the blood of my enemies on my hands. You dare deny me that?!"
The Venan charged, throwing punches at Zetaman. It was a futile effort. Reeves barely moved, looking more unimpressed and saddened than anything else. The man's hands were already turning into a bloody mess from the repeated punches. Reeves glanced at Rita and the SOF soldier, who was slowly backing away. "You should probably get going," Rita told them as Zetaman, having had enough, shoved the injured Venan to the ground effortlessly.
"Please, stand down," Reeves groaned.
"Never!" the Venan shouted, preparing to lunge again, but—
"Stand down! There has been a ceasefire agreement," a small voice called out from the forest. Emerging from the clearing was none other than Princess Han'la, flanked by two guards in strange armor. "You will not die by my hands today; I grant you a pardon to the hereafter."
"Your grace," the hulking soldier murmured, falling to his knees and resting his head on her boot in reverence.
"The sins of your life are forgiven," Han'la said, lifting him up to face her. "You have served the Empire and the Gods well. For that, I grant you a pardon and safe passage to the afterlife." Before any of the superheroes could react, she swiftly drew a knife and stabbed the Venan soldier in the heart, killing him instantly.
"WHAT THE FUCK! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?!" Reeves shouted.
"LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID—"
Han'la looked around, first at the Americans, then at the Songhai soldiers, her expression shifting from surprise to embarrassment. "My apologies. There seems to be a cultural misunderstanding. What the soldiers did to the bodies was a sign of the highest respect for enemy combatants. They gave him a good fight, so he didn't want their bodies to rot before a proper funeral by their families. So he tried to mummify them and hang them high to dry, away from predators. I'm so sorry about this. We're willing to pay compensation to the families if this causes any distress, but he meant no harm, I promise."
"I don't know what's more sickening," Reeves spat, "what you just said or the fact that I actually believe you think this is... honorable." He pointed at the non-Venan Songhai Pact soldiers. "TO BE FUCKING HONORABLE!"
Han'la paused as a young voice piped up, "Oh no, no, no, sir. Those were people who fled the battle. They signed up under a Venan commander and should have known better. If they had done that as members of the Songhai Pact, they would have just been arrested and sent home. But if you fight among Venans, you follow our rules. And could you please stop yelling? My baba says it's not good to use words like that in front of people."
Reeves and Rita were speechless, their words caught in their throats. Finally, Rita managed to ask, "Why are you here?"
"Oh, I asked my big brother and new sister if I could come, and they said yes!" Han'la replied excitedly, her youthful age peeking through the facade of nobility.
"I—I mean, I volunteered to help bring the soldiers out of the jungle. Many wouldn't listen to orders from a non-Venan officer," she explained.
"Officer? You're like... ten years old!"
"I'M TWELVE AND THREE-QUARTERS!" Han'la shouted, stomping her feet.
"What the hell is wrong with you people?" Rita muttered.
"Adults shouldn't curse in front of kids like me. My baba says it's not good for us," Han'la replied, her tone chastising.
Reeves couldn't take it anymore. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT'S FUCKED UP?! YOUR BABA AND YOUR CRAZY FUCKING NATION KILLING AND MUTILATING PEOPLE! ALL BECAUSE OF YOUR STUPID DEATH CULT, YOU CRAZY LITTLE BITCH!"
The Princess looked blank for a moment before she began to…
"Dude, you two made a kid cry?" asked Santell as she sat across the table at the Syndicate HQ.
"Look, there's more to the story than that, you see we—," started Reeves.
"Ay, cool it with the 'we' shit, I'm not French. Reeves is the one that made her cry," Rita tried to explain.
"I don't know, man. Beefing with 12-year-olds is low-key kinda weird," said James Doe.
"She was a military officer. If she was old enough to lead a military formation, she is old enough to know better," Reeves explained, clearly annoyed.
"Plus, she killed a guy right in front of us," Rita added.
May J shook her head. "I don't know, man. She is just a kid."
"SHE WAS A DAMN GENERAL!" shouted Reeves.
"Yeah, so at her age, I was fighting demons and vampires, no offense, Santell," said Jamie before going on, "And if one of my favorite superheroes called me a bitch, I would cry."
"What?" asked Rita. "Wait, don't tell me—"
"Yeah, she is or was a super fan of yours, Reeves. Apparently, you were only second to Reaper according to her social media, and just above Columbia... By the way, she made a post about you, and she is crying in it. They are eating it up on V+," said May J as Reaper and Bishop walked into the room.
"Who's getting jumped on the internet? What's up?" Bishop asked, kinda relieved that it wasn't him for once.
"Reeves made the Princess of Vena cry," said Jamie.
"Man, why and how did you make Princess Emma cry?" said Ace as he and Bishop sat down.
"No, it was Princess Han'al," explained Rita.
Bishop shook his head. "You made a kid cry? That's pretty messed up, man."
Reeves looked like he wanted to smash something. Slowly he picked himself up, then he said:
"I'm going back to New York, where things make sense."
Then he flew through both the reinforced concrete roof of the bunker and the dirt on top of it.
"...Sorry about that, we'll explain later," said Rita, flying up after her soon-to-be husband as Desert walked into the room. "Dude, I just fixed that roof, c'mon!"
Reeves needed a break—a few moments to process all that just happened. He found that on top of a building in New York City.
At least he thought he did…
"Ayo, you Zetaman?" asked Trent, aka the supervillain Toxic Sludge. "I heard about what you did—"
"I'm sorry, who are you?"
"Y'don't know my name?"
"...Not off the top of my head," Reeves admitted. "Are you a supervillain or something like that?"
"I'm mother-fucking Toxic Sludge, cuz, and I heard what you did to that Venan princess, I mean—"
"Toxic Sludge!" Reeves said, as if only then the name had clicked, before he told the villain, "Columbia's listened to your music... She says it's shit," which knocked Toxic Sludge off guard.
"Damn," he said. "Y'giving me fucking whiplash over here, got me thinking she liked my music."
"Does anyone?" Reeves asked.
"Listen, I don't want to talk about the Han'al incident," Reeves said. "There's more to it than—"
"Man, I was just here to invite you to team up," Toxic Sludge said.
"Do you have a concussion?"
"Man, you made a little kid cry, and she was a princess too? That's some pretty evil shit, bro."
"Again, she murdered a man."
"Doesn't matter, because I need that kinda raw evil on my team, so you wanna be my sidekick?"
Reeves sighed once again. "No," Zetaman told Sludge.
"YOU DARE REJECT MY OFFER OF FRIENDSHIP? YOU WILL REGRET THIS DAY, ZETAMAN, YOU WILL REGRET THIS DAY FOR THE REST OF YOUR SHORT LIFE—" he started before he was punched in the face by Blue Blur and Columbia at the same time.
"You... Ha-ave not... S-seen the laaast... Of... M-me," he stuttered out, looking towards Columbia.
"Damn, girl, y-y-you thi-ick a-as hell—" he said before passing out from the hit, arms out like a cartoon character.
"I mean, he ain't lying," Rita quipped before she sat down beside Reeves, the pair looking out over New York City, far from the only time they've done that together. "...Tough day, right Jim?"
"...Pretty sure I've asked you the same thing on occasion," Reeves told Rita, who went on to add:
"Back in the field and when I first joined the club... The one that didn't come with masks."
Reeves knew she was talking about the old veterans support group he founded after the death of "Fireman" Bradley. The death still haunted Jim, and it must have stung Rita.
"...If we ever have a kid, promise me when we have them that they won't end up like Han'al," Jim said to his fiancée.
"Not unless you plan on moving to Vena any time soon," quipped Rita before going on, "I'm not saying we'd be the greatest parents in the world, you know, with being superheroes and public figures, we're probably gonna be a little busy, but we're not gonna be the kinds of parents to let their kid by age 12 be a killer. The only thing they'll have in common is being a princess... I can already see it now."
"See what?" Jim asked her.
"I can already picture them in high school," she laughed to herself. "Her friends calling me the hot mom, and her being shy about bringing her boyfriend over to us."
"I could have told you that," Jim said.
"You're too polite," Columbia quipped.
"What if it's a son? You're going to embarrass him in front of his friends in the summer?"
"...You say that like we're only gonna have one kid," Rita had smiled flirtatiously at Jim Reeves.
"Should I be here for this?" Blue Blur asked them.
"I don't know... Somebody should be keeping an eye on 'SoundCloud's Most Wanted,'" Rita said.
"I was supposed to be keeping an eye on him?"
"What do you mean?" Rita and Jim turned around, realizing that Sludge was nowhere to be seen.
"Should we be worried?" Jim Reeves said to Columbia, who told him, "Honey, it's Toxic Sludge."
Really, the two were more concerned about planning their wedding... And their honeymoon.
Their eyes were towards the stars when they weren't on one another, plotting out their future...
But before that... Jim had an idea.
Listening to an acoustic Venan cover of the Taylor Swift song "All Too Well," the princess Han'al was sadly writing in her diary when she felt a gust of wind from outside the tent she was in.
Climbing out to investigate, she caught a glimpse of two figures flying off into the night and the stars.
"Do they come to mock me?" she wondered before noticing a present by her feet, which she would cautiously open, making note of the American flag wrapping paper and the letter taped to the top of it, which read as follows:
"Dear Han'al... I'm sorry about the way I reacted. If I had known you were a fan, I'd have tried to put my opinions more gracefully; If you ever want to go on a mission with me and Columbia, just give us a call... Also, we're not sure if you like dolls or not, so we bought you an Airsoft machi—"
Han'la had stopped reading upon getting to the Airsoft bit and was happy to unwrap her present, proudly holding up an Airsoft machine gun over her head.
"THANK YOU, ZETAMAN! THANK YOU, COLUMBIA!" she shouted, just barely able to hear:
"Don't mention it!" from Zetaman, and a jovial cheer of "Tone down the murder!" from Columbia.
—-
The Sentinel looked across the horrified room at his second in command or at least what was left of him as his eye lasers had burned a hole through his chest.
"HOW COULD YOU ALLOW THIS!" the Metahuman warlord shouted to his other terrified subordinates "FOR AMERICA AND THOSE DAMN ****** TO GET THIS TO CLOSE TO US! WERE OUR NAVAL ASSETS!"
"Sir they were-" started another man an admiral or at least a man in an admiral uniform before the dictator interrupted him.
"They were what?"
This time another voice spoke up this time it was a female one with metal skin and an accent from the dead unrecognized rogue state of Rhodesia "Destroyed by the Syndicate of so-called Heroes. Even so, given the put size differences now compared to the Americans even when just compared to the ***** of the African Legion this was bound to happen,"
"You act as if we are powerless against those damn Blacks! You can't be seriously suggesting that even without the help of Metahumans, we would lose to a bunch of barely civilized American Blacks"
"What I am suggesting is the acceleration of the first-strike policy of our war plan. Along with the creation and shipment of crude devices to be set off in Jackson after an attack on London to decapitate the African Legion. Without their precious Imani V. Clair and Jake Jagger, these African Legion will fall apart and easily be mopped up. You see the average Sub-Saharan is incapable of waging war against their natural superiors, but there is always among them a one-in-a-million Bantu that could stand a chance against the awesome and all-powerful white race. That is how we lost in Rhodesia we didn't understand that they were being led by a one in one million and we paid dearly for it and that's why we won't lose here not in Europe. Not in our homeland."
"Brilliant speech and suggestion begin the process of shipping the crude device to America hide it in a box of weed after all no Black Americans can resist the call of marijuana." the metahuman stood up holding a glass "And when we are done here with the American and Venan Blacks out the way there will be no one to stop us from recolonizing the rest of Africa and then THE WORLD!" the Sentinel said laughing to himself "MUUUUUH HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!"
Somewhere far beyond the Sol system, light years away, another Vivid chuckled to herself in the void of Supremacy as she watched a holographic vodcast of the room.
"He reminds me so much of my once adopted human father, though, like him, his ideas of racial purity are idiotic. There is only one race of mankind, one single race of humans—a diverse race for any alien species truly—but, like all others, they are inferior to the true masters of the universe," said the alien warlord.
Ka'Ares, in the form of a biomechanical horror of a man with guts and oil spilling out of him, his multi-face wolf head split and bleeding from two of its three heads, asked her, "Is that what angers you about him?"
"You dare speak to me without being spoken to, Olympian?" Supremacy asked the fallen god.
"I dare indeed," he replied.
Supremacy glared at the abomination standing before her. "I have killed for less."
"But even you, in all your pettiness, are not so short-sighted as to kill your war master," the former Greek god said with a smirk before continuing, "Now, will you answer my question?"
"Fine, it does bother me. His love for humans is sickening. They are weak, pathetic things—always at war with one another, eternally selfish and hateful. And above all, no matter how much he or my daughter do for these damn humans, what do they get in return? A slap in the face. He saves a hundred of their children from a mudslide, and their media finds ways to blame him for causing it. My daughter saves their astronauts, and they label her a terrorist. Of all the races I have encountered—enslaved, exterminated, or conquered—these humans are, in all likelihood, the most ungrateful of all the races on a million different worlds. And yet, despite all this, those two in their naivety still try to protect them. Though that love will soon be bent in service to me," Supremacy said, her lips curling into a wide smile as the vox switched to a video of Black Power and Lady Jupiter. "Soon," she whispered to herself, "Soon we shall be a family together as it was always meant to be."
I'm surprised that Jagger didn't bring up the fact that the Royal Family were heavy investors in the Royal African Company, which started out trading gold, but eventually decided that the slave trade was more profitable.
Holy s*** dude I am beyond words; not in a bad way, mind you, just shocked. Honestly, I am just burning with curiosity as to who gave Jagger the command to lead the invasion force? And wouldn't it have been easier to corporate with the British instead of launching an invasion?
I'm surprised that Jagger didn't bring up the fact that the Royal Family were heavy investors in the Royal African Company, which started out trading gold, but eventually decided that the slave trade was more profitable.
Yeah, but if Jagger was going to list all the crimes of the British empire that story would have been 10k words all on its own. Though I will have him bring it up later on.
Holy s*** dude I am beyond words; not in a bad way, mind you, just shocked. Honestly, I am just burning with curiosity as to who gave Jagger the command to lead the invasion force? And wouldn't it have been easier to corporate with the British instead of launching an invasion?
The US believed there was a fat chance the British government was comprised and may have or had a coup of its own so it was decided that a quick reaction that wouldn't damage the UK but also secure it would work best. Who decided that? Harris and Clair came to a deal a few chapters back that since the US military is busy in the Congo that the African Legion would take the primary lead on this one in terms of man power. Is this all extremely unlikely and could have been avoided in a more peaceful manner? Yes, but would you rather have that or a cool action story of Black paramilitaries air dropping into London from 747's while wearing cool uniforms and using rejected early 2000's near future military concept vehicles?
Chaos Subsides In London As New Afrikan Temporary Administrative Takes Hold, However, Peace Is Not Universal Across The Pond:
After last week's resounding military success of our Afrikan Legion soldiers with American support in the operation to secure and maintain stability on the British Isles ahead of the upcoming push against the fascist threat brewing in civil war-torn France, many are celebrating the first stage of the up-opening act of the Special Military Operation against the Metahuman tyrant known as the Sentinel as a bloodless blitzkrieg – however, this may be far from the truth as while order has been maintained in London, in other parts of the UK this may not be the complete case.
While it is true and fact-checked by the New Afrikan Ministry of Truth that there have been no verified claims of armed fascists and/or reactionary resistance in the United Kingdom as of yet, some key cities have seen an uptick in riots primarily conducted by the English Defense League and supportive right-wing hooligan gangs, resulting in multiple neighborhoods erupting into civil violence targeting both UK security forces as well as the British non-white population. In Scotland and Wales, there has also been a surge of secessionist activity, though this has been mostly through peaceful means of civil disobedience, protests, and the occupation of nonvital governmental and military buildings, taking advantage of the confusion within the British security forces alongside a number of right-wing police officers reportedly going rogue.
The greatest trouble, however, has been in the British colonial occupation of Northern Ireland, where indigenous armed groups have taken advantage of the situation, with the IRA managing to push out a number of RUC units in urban areas who are operating undermanned and now with conflicting orders from the mainland. In more rural border areas near the Irish Republic, the Irish Republican Army has reportedly raided several British military outposts, making off with a number of heavy weapons – most notably military-grade drones and drone jammers, which have been seen as game-changers in the renewed struggle for Irish independence. However, Action UK and New Africa's own Justice Commandos have announced they will be working to help bring peace to the region before aiding in the operation to remove the French dictator alongside the larger Syndicate of Heroes and the Venan-backed Legion…"
-The Black Star August 23, 2025
"What was done in England was done out of necessity to preserve NATO and begin the final steps of ending the French Civil War. While it is unfortunate that it had to be conducted in such a manner, the intervention in England was done to avoid the high risk of pro-Sentinel forces launching a coup to overthrow the government of the United Kingdom. We as Americans did what we had to do to make sure that wouldn't happen. We owe no one any apologies. Let me be clear – American dominance over Western Europe and the maintenance of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization will continue at all costs."
-President Kamala Harris, August 23, 2025
Iron Harris: How America's Margaret Thatcher Can Still Save The Liberal World Order
-GBNN August 23, 2025
NATO And The Songhai Pact Agree On French Intervention and Haitian Nuclear De-escalation – However, They Still Disagree On How It Should Be Done.
-New Moon News August 23, 2025
"Comrades and loyal subjects of the Empire of Vena, and citizens of the socialist world order, we stand at the edge of a great mission to destroy the old beast of fascism that has once again risen from its grave. Once again, the socialist workers of the world will team up with the liberals of the West to destroy a joint threat that seeks to enslave all of humanity under its villainous rule. In times like this, I am reminded of a godfather I never knew, but a man who holds a special place in my heart and in the heart of all freedom-loving people of the world – that being the man of steel himself, the late great comrade Joseph Stalin.
Just as comrade Stalin and the Soviet Union joined arms with the West to defeat the greater threat of fascism, so will the Songhai Pact temporarily ally with these NATO dogs to defeat the fascist beast that dwells within France. However, we must also remember the mistakes of comrade Stalin, who thought rather naively that he could befriend the West. We cannot befriend the enemy, so this alliance is temporary. We cannot make the same mistake as comrade Stalin. He was a great man, but a naive one – we cannot afford to be naive."
-The King of Vena, August 23, 2025
"We won't back down. Neither the Black Hindu-led Americans nor their ****** army of half-breed ******* **** ***** ***** they call the Afrikan Legion can stop us! No, the damn **** **** **** **** ***** ******* **** ***** ***** ***** of Vena, nor NATO can stop the march of the rebirth of the Western world. Europe shall be reborn in France and shall march forth reclaiming all the lands that were stripped from us!"
-The Sentinel, August 23, 2025
Opinion: The Sentinel and his rogue state prove why metahuman registration and regulation will have to become a necessity
-The Washington Post, August 23, 2025
Canadian, Australian, and New Zealand Military Detachments Have Begun To Arrive In England, along with a number of mainland NATO Forces Amassing Along The French Border.
-New Moon News, August 23, 2025
"Our statement is clear on the upcoming special military operation to be undertaken: the Sentinel will be removed from power. Afterward, a moderate government and light occupation will be installed. Until then, our actions – while harsh – will be for the greater good.
To the people of America who have lost faith in our military and seen it wasted, and continue to see it wasted, in needless and cruel slaughter in the Congo and, before that, in a never-ending slog of Middle Eastern forever war – to those of you who have lost hope that our armed forces can fight for what is right – rejoice. Now, alongside the African Legion, the forces of the U.S. military, particularly the U.S. Marine Corps, as well as members from a dozen other nations, stand lock-step with us as we embark upon a second great crusade against fascism, which has once again grown up out of Europe under the banner of the 7th Coalition. Now, for the first time in nearly a century, we are prepared to fight a just war, a noble war, a war for civilization itself. Know that we will win, that we will be victorious, just as our ancestors stormed the beaches of Normandy.
To the French people currently living under the rule of the rogue junta, I advise you to shelter in underground places and attempt to remove yourselves from any militant or pro-junta fighters or equipment that may be hiding in civilian areas. Do not allow this rogue regime to use you as human shields.
To Sentinel, I have this to say: if you truly love your people and your nation, step down at once. Remove yourself from power and prepare to be captured – or have your country destroyed. Spare the children the suffering of burying their mothers and fathers as orphans. Spare the parents of France the horror of burying their own children. Spare what is left of your country, sir, and step down. Remember, all actions taken after this point are taken because of your refusal to step down. The blood is on your hands, Sentinel. You have 48 hours."
-Imani V. Clair, in a televised address on August 23, 2025
"Blood Is On Your Hands," Imani V. Clair's War Cry Or War Crime?
-CNN, August 23, 2025
"Imani, mon amour, she talks so fine, but I'ma keep it real simple. We gon bomb dem fascist scum back to the Stone Age."
-Jake Jagger, August 23, 2025
Masked Rioters Clash With Police In Liverpool: Buildings Set on Fire As More US and Afrikan Legion Soldiers Enter Through The Port Of Liverpool.
-CapeWatchTV.com, August 23, 2025
Rogue French Antarctic Base Reportedly Cleared Out By Superheroes Reaper & Shadow After Scores Of Junta Soldiers Are Found Hog-Tied Near Falkland's Port.
-HeroWatch, August 23, 2025
Despite the Impending War With France The Doomsday Clock Has Been Moved Back 2 Minutes To Midnight Not Seen Since The Russian Invasion Of Ukraine Three Years Ago.
-New Moon News August 23, 2025
Irish Republican Army Gains Ground as British Forces Struggle in Northern Ireland
-Venan Star August 23, 2025
Songhai Troop Numbers In Eastern Europe Reaches 750,000 Bolstered By 800,000 Russians And 102,000 Native Troops
-Songhai Times August 23, 2025
African Legion Seen Hosting Algerian and Vietnamese Unofficial Military Detachments In England
-BBC August 23, 2025
Breaking News Germany Agrees to Help Operation Against French Junta Despite Article Five Not Being Invoked Officially Yet
-Associated Press August 23, 2025
Adwa A Grand Historical Epic Set To Premiere In Ward Theaters For A Limited Run Before Going To Streaming Services
-Peachwood Star August 23, 2025
Probably gonna lose money on it but it will look cool as hell tho.
-Ace Ward (Ward+) August 23, 2025
Drone Footage Shows American Convoy Ambushed In Southern Congo
-LiveBattleVideo August 23, 2025
Violence Erupts in Southport Over "Occupation," As Pro Alt Right Pro French Junta Thugs Clash With Alt Leftists Goons In Battle Of The Haldwits
-GBNN August 23, 2025
Black Power and Rora Seen Helping To Escort Refugees Fleeing France To Germany
-HeroWatch August 23, 2025
While The French Junta May Not Have The Power To Wage Nuclear Warfare, The Threat Of Metahuma Warfare Looms High
-Vena Today August 24, 2025
I know this is in bad taste and all, but please Jagger do another coup and install Meghan as Queen Regent of England for the funnies
-BasedMailMan2637 (Ward+) August 24, 2025
|
Don't tempt me, letter boy
-Jake Jagger (Ward+) August 24, 2025
IRA Men Seen Raising Flag Over A Number Of British Military Outposts in the South Of Northern Ireland After Withdrawal By British Troops
-Popular Front August 24, 2025
King Of Vena To Attend African Union Meeting Despite Overseas Conflict
-Africa Stream August 24, 2025
Has The Royal Family Gone Woke?: What does the King miss about the Martyrs Day Military Parade for Venan Civilization And why is it Princess Mina's Fault?
-The Rational Venan YouTube August 24, 2025
Despite Germany's Internal Riots, The German Military Rises To Meet The Challenge While Others Like Hungary and Poland Falter
-MSNBC August 24, 2025
"I'm giving you an order,"
"Well Mrs. President we are a-"
"You are a client state and have been for the last almost century first of the Soviet then of America. Let me be perfectly clear here if you don't do what I say I will have Jagger repeat what he did in London, but I will also have Imani fully let him off his leash. Maybe even after the war they can take up some key bases in your country or act as governmental advisers. Think about it Orgie, a bunch of Black Americans parading through your back little shit hole trad streets,"
"You wouldn't dare,"
"Why wouldn't I? I'm the President of the fucking United States of America and you are no one besides it's a win-win for me, I get to fuck you over for not doing your job and I also get Afrikan Legion soldiers out of my country while fucking over yours. So if you don't want that to happen, saddle the fuck up and do what you are fucking told? Because that is your job as a client state. We may have given your nation a longer leash than what the Soviets did because we felt bad about Ivan bending you over the table, but you are still a fucking client state, and if I have to treat you like we treat our Latin American clients and send the CIA or Jagger, or anyone else my American ass wants to send in to take care of business I fucking will. Did your brick-for-brain process that or do I have to have it translated to whatever right-wing muttering your worm-infested frontal lobe can understand?"
"Yes,"
"Yes, what?"
"Yes ma'am"
"That's a good boy,"
-Kamala Harris to Viktor Orbán August 24, 2025
Molotov's Thrown At African Legion Jeep In England, Before AL Open Fire On A Group Of Rioters With Rubber Bullets
-Popular Front August 24, 2025
Despite Cease-Fire In Haiti Fighting In Congo Has Only Grown With A Number Of Key Targets Coming Under Bomb And Fly Attacks Via Drones
-TLDR News August 24, 2025
CCP Struggles To End City-Wide Self-Quarantine In Wuhan China After Russian Flu Scare Hoax Sends Population Into "Organized Panic,"
-Fox News August 24, 2025
Two US Marines Shot By Rogue EDList Police
-CNN August 24, 2025
Terminus Station A 3D Guide To Ace Ward's Future Of Orbital Settlement:
"While the current phase of Terminus will be the second ever to employ rotational spin gravity it will become the first to not rely on wheel shape spin gravity but act as the core of what will become a much wider true O'Neil Cylinder 10 miles long and 5 miles wide over the coming decades with dozens of spin ring add-ons. However, at the moment what is scheduled to be completed this year in the so-called phase one is over 3 times as long as the ISS with a length of 220 meters and a radius of 224, and gives a spin gravity simulation between that of the moon and earth in order to act as a transition base for the Ward owned North Star Moon base that will be launched in tandem with the phase one of the stations on board the Ward Heavy Lift Rocket 1 (HLR1) an enlarged and modified version of the Sea Dragon design who will help deliver both the manned moon base as well as using parts of its hull to form the parts of the station. Phase two will see similar launches though with added outer ring spaces that will be sold off to investors be they corporate and or government entities and partners. These spin rings over time will be interconnected to form a larger radius hull as the station length grows as well. However, that is not all. In accordance with the North Star company's plan, a mission to Mars during the late stages of phase one and the early phase of construction is to begin on the first Orion Drive nuclear plus engine…"
-Science Today August 24, 2025
Vena Unveils The Second Kriegdar Class Battlecarrier A Drone Carrier Battleship Hybrid
-Military Report Weekly August 24, 2025
EDL Organized Police Strike In Stoke-on-Trent, Manchester Leads To Chaos
-Channel 4 August 24, 2025
Idaho Passes First-Ever Anti-White Racism Crime Bill Clamping Down On Anti-White Forced Diversity
-NewsMax August 24, 2025
"After we win in 2028 we should begin to strip rights and privileges of fascist states like Idaho. The state government and the people, if you can even call them that, of these fascist states need to be punished. They need to have their noses rubbed into the dirt and made to kiss the boot of the party, and if that means state-sanctioned authoritarian violence, that is perfectly fine with me."
-Head Of The NA-DIS Kruger in a rare private speech to members of the NA-DIS shortly after hearing about the bill passed in Idaho on August 24, 2025
CSAM Distribution Center Taken Down By Non-Law Enforcement Actor In Portland Maine Skin Walker Sighted Rumored Responsible For The Bust
-HeroWatch August 24, 2025
Major Far Right Unrest Reported In The Following Cities Be Advised Southport, Liverpool, Hull, Stoke-on-Trent.
-Afrikan Legion Alert System August 24, 2025
---
The air was thick with smoke, the acrid smell of burning vehicles and tear gas swirling in the wind. Makeshift barricades blocked intersections, and cars were overturned and set ablaze. Thousands of rioters, masked with bandanas or ski masks, wielded whatever they could get their hands on—steel pipes, wooden bats, bottles filled with gasoline. Some waved banners adorned with hateful slogans, while others screamed into megaphones.
"FUCKING N***** AND YANKS OUT NOW!" shouted one megaphone-wielding skinhead standing on top of a car.
Shattered windows lined the streets as rioters looted shops and dragged terrified civilians into the chaos. Explosions from homemade firebombs echoed through the alleys, while the sound of police sirens from abandoned cop cars wailed in the distance.
"Fucking savages," laughed the Comic. Shrouded Justice stood beside John Henry and Anne Christmas as the modified V-22 Osprey hovered above the rioting English streets. The pilot of the craft, the Ghost of Kyiv, gritted his teeth, bringing the craft into a low stationary hover, letting down the ramp. In the distance, Big Ben could be seen, the size of multiple flats, using his enlarged body to help clear distant streets of rioters.
"Look at them," Anne muttered, her eyes following the movement of the crowd as it clashed with a line of riot police below. Henry pointed to a group in black biker gear turned homemade armor, armed with sticks and clubs. "This isn't a protest anymore. It's a war zone."
Shrouded Justice nodded, his heart pounding in time with the rotors of the Osprey. Below, the riot turned uglier. Flames licked the sky as a Molotov cocktail was thrown against the bottom of the Osprey landing ramp, while the skinhead still stood on top of a ruined car.
The skinhead with the megaphone shouted, "FUCK MASKS, WE WANT POLICE—"
Like a lasso, Anne Christmas used her pearl-studded necklace to grab the megaphone, ripping it out of the speaker's hands and smashing it to the ground. "Enough! It's time for everyone to go home."
"HOW ABOUT YOU GO BACK TO AFRICA—" shouted one woman, before being met by a punch in the face from the Comic.
Suddenly, a man in riot armor with a baseball bat tried to strike Anne, only to be met by a blow to the gut from John Henry's hammer, sending him flying into a stone wall. At the same time, Shrouded Justice threw down tear gas pellets and pulled out a modified trench gun loaded with rubber bullets from his long coat, tossing it to the Comic.
"Thanks, babe," she quipped, firing into the crowd and hitting one person in the gut before they were knocked out by an electrified nightstick strike from Justice, who responded, "I'm not your babe."
"Not yet, candy ass," the Comic joked, lining up another shot and striking a person in the back. She paused as she heard something in the air. "Heads up, it's the fun police."
From the sky descended Black Scotsman and Ogun.
"Was all that really necessary?" asked Ogun.
The Comic lined up another shot, hitting a rioter who was running away in the back of the head. "No, but it is fun." She was about to take another shot when Black Scotsman stepped in her way. "It's over. Stand down."
"Oh look, the guard dogs finally stepped in to defend their mast—"
"Stop, Comic," interrupted Shrouded Justice.
The woman rolled her eyes. "Fine, but only because you asked nicely, sugar." She walked over to a half-looted bar, noticing a few beer cans from a six-pack scattered on the ground. Eagerly, she picked up an unopened one and began to drink. "I was getting bored anyway."
"So, what's the word elsewhere?" asked John Henry.
"Rioting has mostly died down. Thankfully, we got a handle on it before things got too heavy," said Scotsman.
"That's nice to hear," said Anne.
Ogun raised his wrist-mounted screen display. "Unfortunately, there is some bad news."
"And that is?" asked Scotsman.
Ogun answered, "We've got company."
Tommy looked out his window at what was flying towards him and made peace with his god. Just as it seemed inevitable that the Sentinel was about to destroy his F-35, the would-be Metahuman dictator was struck by a sledgehammer thrown by John Henry. Anne Christmas' pearl lasso grabbed him mid-air, slinging his body around and letting go, sending the Sentinel flying into a punch from Black Scotsman.
"Filthy Black creatures, you think you can stop me? Look at you, scared little cowards resorting to ganging up just to stand a chance, like a pack of wild African jungle hyenas," laughed the villain.
Suddenly, the sound of mini-jet engines roared as Ogun appeared behind the Sentinel, aiming the right-arm-mounted machine gun at the Metahuman brute, who laughed.
"A machine gun? You stupid little metal *****. You think you can stop me with bullets? I am an Aryan Demigod!"
"Well, if it still shot bullets, yeah. Good thing it shoots MAC rounds."
"MAC-what?" asked Sentinel, shortly before being blasted with a near-particle stream of ultra-small kinetic rounds, each particle impacting with the force of a tank round. It only lasted a second, but even before the villain could react, he was hit with the ion beam itself as it shifted into a more powerful laser, blasting the junta leader all the way back across the English Channel.
"So much for Operation Sea Lion, huh?" quipped Ogun.
Anne shook her head, looking down at the water. "Landing craft!"
"Wait, I thought the French navy was destroyed?" asked Ogun.
"That's because it isn't the French navy," answered Scotsman. "It's—"
"KRIEGSMARINE!" shouted a nautical-themed, powered-armor-wearing villain, as he, along with a horde of undead Nazi zombies covered in barnacles and seaweed, began to land along the beaches. Nearly 20 battalions of the undead made landfall, armed with weapons welded into their bodies in a Frankenstein fashion. But it wasn't long before a horrific roar echoed from higher in the sky as Princess Mina, the Night Witch, descended from a storm. With her came a detachment of gargoyles—half bat, half human, 13 feet tall, with flesh made of writhing stone. They dove into the water, turning it crimson with the blood of their enemies, only to emerge larger and more numerous than before, Mina at their head. A crown of thorn-like horns formed on her head, shadow and flesh wings grew from her back, lined with razor-sharp spines, and a crab-like shell encased her clothing. A blade of pure shadow extended from her right arm.
As she walked on the beach, Kriegsmarine charged at her, his thick metal diving suit offering a false sense of protection. Suddenly, shadow tendrils grabbed him while appendages of flesh and bone sprouted from the Night Witch, wrapping around his right arm. In a swift movement, his arm was ripped out completely.
"A foolish automaton of a dead Reich," Mina said coldly. "A sea golem of hate, a leftover from a time best forgotten, now serving uselessly in another doomed empire. But I can find some use for you."
Mina's mouth and jaw broke apart as black appendages, each with rows of teeth, broke through the glass of Kriegsmarine's visor, only to reveal a skull, long since dead. Using her shadow blade, she stabbed the swastika symbol in the center of his chest, cracking it. A green, mossy glow flickered for a second before fading, and Kriegsmarine's movements ceased just as the other heroes landed, now aided by units of the Duken'Korps in half-tracks and military jeeps. Mina's body shifted back to its normal form.
"Nice work... I think," said Scotsman. "Though personally, we prefer not to kill the bad guys here."
"That thing wasn't alive and hadn't been for over 80 years," Mina replied. "It was a false golem, brought back by the works of the Frankensteins."
"Wow, Frankenstein's monster was a Nazi?" asked the Ghost of Kyiv, getting out of his helicopter.
"No, you half-brain, Frankenstein was the doctor, not the monster," said the Comic. "Though it can be argued the true monster was the doctor himself—"
"Didn't take you for the literature nerd type," said Ogun.
"Don't judge an incredibly sexy book by its cover," quipped the Comic.
"Shouldn't we go after him... the Sentinel, I mean?" asked Scotsman.
"Way ahead of you," said Anne Christmas, as the sound of airplanes and jets could be heard overhead.
"We must wait until the next engagement. For now, we need to focus on protecting the civilians," said Mina, glancing toward her gargoyles, who were busy collecting the biomass of the zombies. "Take what you can from this feast of the damned, but by sunrise, return to stone. Before then, begin constructing camps for French refugees so they may have a temporary home."
The largest of the gargoyles, standing 14 feet tall, looked at Mina, roared, and snarled before flying off into the night along with the rest of its "brothers." ---
Imani V. Clair stands at the podium in the NAZ executive mansion's Rose Garden, wearing a sharp blue suit with both the American and NAZ flags pinned on her lapel. Behind her, for the first time, the American and NAZ flags are displayed side by side, equal in stature. Flanking her are a soldier of the African Legion and a member of the USMC.
"Ladies and gentlemen, two days ago, I gave a warning to the Sentinel—to stand down, or his nation would suffer the consequences. That deadline has now passed. As a woman of my word, I must inform you that the largest air raid since World War II is underway at this very moment. Forces from the African Legion Army Air Corps, the Royal Air Force, and numerous allied air forces are currently bombing all confirmed and suspected military targets in junta-controlled France, whether they be in the open or hidden among former civilian areas.
When I took office, I vowed to always be honest with the people, and I must uphold that promise. Casualties will be high. Your social media feeds and news channels will soon be filled with images of the devastation of modern warfare. I will not tell you to look away—not from the flames, nor from the brutal reality of war. However, I do remind you that the price of civilization is steep, and the cost of fascist barbarism is even greater—paid in blood and lives.
To the people of France, as you hear the roar of jets in your skies, the thunder of bombs, and the scream of missiles, understand this: we are not your enemy. Recognize who has brought this destruction upon your land. It is the Sentinel and his ideology of fascism—an ideology whose only destination is death.
Thank you. Long live New Afrika, and may God bless America."
— Imani V. Clair, August 25, 2025
Hundreds of Aircraft and Thousands of Drones Begin Bombardment of French Junta's Positions. The Fall of European Fascism Draws Near.
-The Black Star, August 25, 2025
New Afrikan and Venan Jungle Jets Bomb French Civilians and Freedom Fighters Indiscriminately!
-NewsMax, August 25, 2025
John Henry and Black Scotsman Seen Helping Civilians Flee Bombing Raids:
Video shows Black Scotsman lifting a collapsed, bombed building on his back as John Henry helps rescue civilians.
-HeroWatch, August 25, 2025
Is everyone seeing this? JFC, it makes Russia's opening stages in Ukraine look like light work. The only thing I can compare it to is Iraq, but Christ, I don't even know if that's comparable. All I have to say is thank God for superheroes, because there would've been a lot of good people dead on both sides. Then again, superheroes existing is how we got into this mess to begin with.
-Post on AlternateHistory.com, American Political Discussion Thread, August 25, 2025
Video Shows Afrikan Legion Using Hundreds of Dumb Bombs Dropped From Modified 747s.
-ABC News, August 25, 2025
Video Shows a Cruise Missile Slamming Into Fortified Apartment Building Turned Junta Military Base and Flak Tower.
-African Diaspora News Channel, August 25, 2025
New Afrika Converted Massive Cargo Hauler Turned 'Artillery Ship,' Launches Massive Barrage of Hundreds of Missiles and Rockets Toward France.
-TYT Live, August 25, 2025
What Little Air Defenses France Has Left Have Come Under Attack by Drone and Rocket Swarms.
-New Moon News, August 25, 2025
Anne Christmas Seen Lassoing Junta's Attack Drone and Slamming It Into a Nearby Government Building.
-Warfighter.com, August 25, 2025
New Afrikan, Legion, American, and NATO Troops Make Landfall in Normandy.
-LiveWar.com, August 25, 2025
Venan KT-262 Auto-Assisted Fighter Bomber Drones Swarm Remaining French Junta Aircraft Near Wolfaian DMZ.
-Burkina People's Times, August 25, 2025
Welcome to Hyper War.
-Africa Defense.com, August 25, 2025
Venan Forces in Wolfaiana Launch Air Raids Against France Before Capturing Several Key Unaligned French Border Villages.
-CNN, August 25, 2025
Big Ben Seen Helping Carry Refugees to Safety Across the English Channel.
-NBC, August 25, 2025
Poland Refuses to Allow Venan Aircraft to Fly Over Airspace, Even to Bomb French Forces.
-Songhai Times, August 25, 2025
Afrikan Legion Airforce Seen Using White Phosphorus and Napalm Over Junta-Controlled Military Bases.
-American Daily, August 25, 2025
"We encourage the French civilians under bombardment not to allow fascists to use their homes and property as military sites for their own safety,"
-US Press Secretary, August 25, 2025
"Is everything ready?"
"Yes the device in Addis Ababa has already been placed two others have been shipped to the Nigerian Border while one is being shipped in a bail of weed as you requested and the recovered Heisenberg Device has be armed and shipped to the Caribbean as well."
"Excellent soon this war will be over and once again we shall rule the world,"
1. James Walker (22)
2. Daniel Carter (24)
3. Michael Smith (19)
4. Christopher Johnson (21)
5. Joshua Wilson (23)
6. Andrew Thompson (18)
7. David Evans (20)
8. Matthew Turner (25)
9. Ethan Cooper (19)
10. Alexander Lewis (17)
11. Ryan Clark (21)
12. Tyler King (22)
13. Jacob Wright (24)
14. Justin Hall (18)
15. Anthony Green (20)
16. William Adams (19)
17. Nicholas Harris (23)
18. Jonathan Bell (21)
19. Brandon Baker (22)
20. Samuel Parker (17)
21. Kevin Campbell (25)
22. Dylan Mitchell (19)
23. Jason Murphy (24)
24. Christian Brooks (20)
25. Austin Hughes (22)
26. Nathan Foster (23)
27. Eric Sanders (18)
28. Aaron Reed (21)
29. Zachary Torres (19)
30. Adam Scott (24)
31. Logan Ramirez (23)
32. Benjamin Russell (25)
33. Brian Morgan (19)
34. Kyle Peterson (20)
35. Caleb Howard (18)
36. Sean Rivera (22)
37. Patrick Flores (19)
38. Cody Simmons (24)
39. Gabriel Butler (23)
40. Blake Bryant (21)
41. Stephen Alexander (25)
42. Travis Rogers (20)
43. Connor Griffin (22)
44. Bryce Russell (21)
45. Derek Hayes (24)
46. Jared Morales (18)
47. Jordan Foster (23)
48. Cameron Price (17)
49. Ian Powell (25)
50. Chase Perez (21)
51. Luke Jenkins (20)
52. Shane Long (19)
53. Evan Butler (18)
54. Garrett Ross (22)
55. Kenneth Hughes (23)
56. Cole Chapman (24)
57. Hunter Brooks (21)
58. Adrian Roberts (25)
59. Jose Diaz (17)
60. Paul Myers (19)
61. Dominic Bennett (20)
62. Jared Foster (22)
63. Marcus James (24)
64. Tyler Carter (23)
65. Trevor Bailey (21)
66. Nathaniel Cox (19)
67. Bryce Coleman (18)
68. Brad Jenkins (25)
69. Grant Perry (24)
70. Joel Martinez (22)
71. Bryan Stewart (23)
72. Austin Morris (21)
73. Victor Rogers (19)
74. Seth Sanchez (18)
75. Spencer Morris (17)
76. Oliver Lopez (22)
77. Tristan Barnes (24)
78. Wyatt Freeman (21)
79. Luis Elliott (23)
80. Carlos Montgomery (19)
81. Philip Hart (18)
82. John Barnes (20)
83. Garrett George (23)
84. Mitchell West (19)
85. Evan Bryant (25)
86. Hayden Rose (24)
87. Keith Stone (22)
88. Antonio Carr (17)
89. Julian Knight (21)
90. Vincent Price (23)
91. Liam Lowe (20)
92. Xavier Torres (19)
93. Owen Green (18)
94. Frank Mitchell (25)
95. Wesley Ramirez (24)
96. Mason Jordan (19)
97. Henry White (21)
98. Erik Rogers (22)
99. Gavin Stone (23)
100. Noah Ellis (20)
101. Alec Lawson (18)
102. Devin Fisher (24)
103. Curtis Perry (23)
104. Colton Bryant (21)
105. Elijah Simmons (19)
106. Tanner Bell (22)
107. Keith Crawford (20)
108. Collin Martinez (18)
109. Jared Patterson (19)
110. Gavin Price (23)
111. Liam Hayes (25)
112. Brandon Martinez (21)
113. Austin Allen (20)
114. Marcus Carter (23)
115. Robert Lewis (19)
116. Chase Martinez (24)
117. Cole Price (18)
118. Shane Ward (21)
119. Sean Roberts (20)
120. Daniel Russell (19)
121. Adam Howard (23)
122. Austin Baker (22)
123. Jack Murphy (21)
124. Kyle Rodriguez (25)
125. Anthony Davis (19)
126. Dylan Butler (20)
127. Ryan Hall (23)
128. Carson Brown (21)
129. Christian Sanders (18)
130. Jordan Hughes (25)
131. Ethan Bailey (22)
132. Bryce Hughes (19)
133. Colton Carter (24)
134. Johnathan Collins (23)
135. Patrick Bennett (18)
136. Blake Howard (20)
137. Michael Hernandez (25)
138. Matthew Martin (19)
139. Derek Gray (24)
140. Connor Reed (21)
141. Evan Hayes (20)
142. Trevor Wright (22)
143. Nicholas Peterson (25)
144. Dominic Ross (17)
145. Cody Adams (19)
146. Garrett Barnes (23)
147. Ian King (20)
148. Cameron Sanders (21)
149. Jared Henderson (25)
150. Evan Ortiz (19)
151. Kyle Lopez (20)
152. Seth Hill (22)
153. Jonathan Green (23)
154. Paul Perez (19)
155. Tyler Powell (24)
156. Jake Bryant (18)
157. Joshua Diaz (25)
158. Austin Cruz (20)
159. Victor Cooper (19)
160. Seth Reed (23)
161. Gabriel Evans (21)
162. Jose Rogers (18)
163. Derek Cox (22)
164. Cody Kelly (24)
165. Eric Bennett (19)
166. Alexander Gray (20)
167. Dylan Rivera (23)
168. Brian Martinez (21)
169. Kevin Butler (25)
170. Samuel Bailey (18)
171. Blake Edwards (24)
172. Chase Anderson (22)
173. Jared Howard (20)
174. Adrian Russell (21)
175. Anthony King (23)
176. Stephen Lopez (25)
177. Connor Wright (18)
178. Luke Parker (22)
179. Garrett Martinez (19)
180. Eric Perez (17)
-"List Of American Troops Killed In The Congo", New Moon News
"Yes the device in Addis Ababa has already been placed two others have been shipped to the Nigerian Border while one is being shipped in a bail of weed as you requested and the recovered Heisenberg Device has be armed and shipped to the Caribbean as well."
Writing delays has pushed back this chapter again sorry ol' sports. Me and Dan are still working on it. However I will try to have something out this Friday.
In lieu of another chapter (Don't worry, from what I've seen it's looking pretty good, and is going to be very important in the series), here's what I think some of the characters would dress up as for Halloween.
Fun fact, as an Australian, Halloween was yesterday.
The Syndicate and the NOAAU:
Ace Ward/Reaper: Batman… It looks like the Travis Scott Batman suit, only more expensive.
Destiny Masters: Rhythm Nation era Janet Jackson.
Xander: Ken (Because he's enough).
Mia: Muslim Barbie.
Bishop Castle/Black Power: Benjamin Sisko from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine.
Europa/Lady Jupiter: Kamala Khan Ms. Marvel.
Rora: Storm from X-Men.
Jim Reeves/Zeta-Man: Clark Kent and Superman.
Rita Dalí/Columbia: Mirabel Madrigal from Encanto.
Eric Spader/Ace of Spades: Iron Man.
Captain Slaughter: Tom Selleck from Magnum P.I… Had to be told not to go as Ron Jeremy.
Uncle Sam: Abraham Lincoln.
Liberty: Carol Danvers Captain Marvel.
Skinwalker: The scariest thing she could think of… Herself.
Heart Harkon, Grey, and Jake Jagger: The Powerpuff Girls, Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup.
Ridley Andrews: Miss Sara Bellum.
The Crime League of America:
Emilio Jackson: Captain Jack Sparrow.
Neva: Ariel from The Little Mermaid.
Jinx: Tony Montana from Scarface.
Oracle: Angel, kinda looks like Christina Aguilera from the "Lady Marmalade" music video…
Pyro: Miles Morales Spider-Man.
Polly Weaver: Wednesday Addams.
Glitch: Regular Peter Parker Spider-Man.
Hannah Hellfire: Jean Grey from X-Men.
Terence Weaver/Omega: Himself.
Blue: Percy Jackson, since Blue looks like every basic white boy with black hair.
Banshee: Olive Hoover from Little Miss Sunshine, because she is apparently a "Super Freak".
Tank: Ken Masters from Street Fighter.
Pink: Joan Jett.
Bolts: Harry Potter… Jokes have been made that he's a gender swapped Hermione Granger.
Hummingbird: Gogo Yubari from Kill Bill.
Slapstick: The Arthur Fleck Joker… Also, she apparently liked that film (IRL, so did I, actually).
In lieu of another chapter (Don't worry, from what I've seen it's looking pretty good, and is going to be very important in the series), here's what I think some of the characters would dress up as for Halloween.
Fun fact, as an Australian, Halloween was yesterday.
The Syndicate and the NOAAU:
Ace Ward/Reaper: Batman… It looks like the Travis Scott Batman suit, only more expensive.
Destiny Masters: Rhythm Nation era Janet Jackson.
Xander: Ken (Because he's enough).
Mia: Muslim Barbie.
Bishop Castle/Black Power: Benjamin Sisko from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine.
Europa/Lady Jupiter: Kamala Khan Ms. Marvel.
Rora: Storm from X-Men.
Jim Reeves/Zeta-Man: Clark Kent and Superman.
Rita Dalí/Columbia: Mirabel Madrigal from Encanto.
Eric Spader/Ace of Spades: Iron Man.
Captain Slaughter: Tom Selleck from Magnum P.I… Had to be told not to go as Ron Jeremy.
Uncle Sam: Abraham Lincoln.
Liberty: Carol Danvers Captain Marvel.
Skinwalker: The scariest thing she could think of… Herself.
Heart Harkon, Grey, and Jake Jagger: The Powerpuff Girls, Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup.
Ridley Andrews: Miss Sara Bellum.
The Crime League of America:
Emilio Jackson: Captain Jack Sparrow.
Neva: Ariel from The Little Mermaid.
Jinx: Tony Montana from Scarface.
Oracle: Angel, kinda looks like Christina Aguilera from the "Lady Marmalade" music video…
Pyro: Miles Morales Spider-Man.
Polly Weaver: Wednesday Addams.
Glitch: Regular Peter Parker Spider-Man.
Hannah Hellfire: Jean Grey from X-Men.
Terence Weaver/Omega: Himself.
Blue: Percy Jackson, since Blue looks like every basic white boy with black hair.
Banshee: Olive Hoover from Little Miss Sunshine, because she is apparently a "Super Freak".
Tank: Ken Masters from Street Fighter.
Pink: Joan Jett.
Bolts: Harry Potter… Jokes have been made that he's a gender swapped Hermione Granger.
Hummingbird: Gogo Yubari from Kill Bill.
Slapstick: The Arthur Fleck Joker… Also, she apparently liked that film (IRL, so did I, actually).
I think both Ms.Amerika and Europa would end up dressing up as Kamala. Though I can honestly see Cap dressing up as Steve Trevor because he was a huge Wonder Woman fan growing up.
I think both Ms.Amerika and Europa would end up dressing up as Kamala. Though I can honestly see Cap dressing up as Steve Trevor because he was a huge Wonder Woman fan growing up.
