text: [Themes: sci-fi]
  
  "C!" you shout, as you, Shada and Seamus turn and sprint off, as Luc sighs and charges forward.
  
  You break forward in a sprint, heading towards the building. You hear yells from behind you, and tilt your head slightly. To his credit, you see Luc get several good hits in, knocking Tharla to the ground. He smashes into two more, before taking a hard kick towards the ground. Tharla stomps on his chest, before turning towards you, but by now, you're inside the building. You see a trio of electro-swords, lying across a table.
  
  "What do we do? Grab the swords and make a stand or search for guns?" Shada says, looking around the room for the weapons.
  
  > have Seamus search for a gun while you and Shada fight
  "Seamus, get a gun," you say, grabbing an electro-sword and tossing it to Shada.
  
  She quickly grabs another holding both in either hand as she lets electricity run through them. You twirl your electro-sword through the air, just as the four charge in. You charge forward, sweeping one's legs away as you jab another in the throat with the electro-sword, causing them to shudder under the coursing electricity. They collapse backwards, before you see Shada stumble backwards as the edge of her shirt sets alight, which she quickly pats out. Thara charges for you, and you duck out of the way, stabbing her in the back of the head as she collapses to the ground. She twirls around, firing a jet of flames at you, and you dive out of the way. She stands over you, growling as her fists burst into flames. Suddenly, she collapses forward as you hear a gunshot. She yells in pain, before she's hit half a dozen more times. The other students are quickly shot down as they're sent stumbling to the ground as Seamus fires dozens of rubber bullets from his assault rifle. Seamus shoots them all once more for efforts, before smiling.
  
  "Well, I rescued you all. You're welcome. Good ol' Seamus is amazing," Seamus says, smiling.
  
  "Let's go check on Luc," you say.
  
  You quickly hurry outside the building, running down to Luc. You grab one of his hands, helping lift him up.
  
  "Every part of me hurts," he moans.
  
  "Come on, let's get you checked out," you say, smiling at him.
  
  The Doctor walks into the building, carrying a syringe, as you help Luc limp off to the medical bay, with Shada helping him along.
  
  Sgt Doyle appears, smiling.
  
  "Come on, kids. Let's get you checked out, and then, I have someone I want you to meet."
  
  > Later That Day...
  You sit in front of Sgt Doyle with your friends. Luc has a bandage wrapped around his arms to cover up a fairly bad burn at the hands of Thara.
  
  "Introducing Alexander Maximov," Sgt Doyle says.
  
  A large man with short brown hair in a black suit strolls in. He holds himself up via a silver cane, despite looking no older than forty.
  
  "Good day to you, children," he says.
  
  "Who the fuck are you?" Seamus asks.
  
  "Eligant way of asking, my boy. My name is Alexander Maximov."
  
  "What do you do?"
  
  "Hmm... interesting question. There's a lot of answers I could give you, but at its core, I'm a force of change."
  
  "No offense, but that sounds like a bullshit answer," you say
  
  Maximov cracks a smile.
  
  "I suppose you're right. I look at the world, and I'm disgusted. We have billionaires spending their money on private plans and yachts while people starve. We sell massive amounts of gold, which is less useful than tinfoil, but not enough bread to feed the world. It's simple. The people are manipulated by the upper class. The billionaires of the world spend pennies on propaganda campaigns to convince them that the money is in the hands of the starving immigrants. I want to change that. I want to take control, to allow socialism to prosper once and for all, to allow freedoms to be preserved, to stop the exploitation, to protect the environment."
  
  "You're a dictator?" Luc asks.
  
  "I prefer the term autocrat, but I won't bat around the bush. Look at democracy. We don't elect people because they're good leaders, we elect them because they're likeable. The perfect president probably never even got into politics because he had a high pitched voice and a fat face. Half of Americans believe that some magic sky man created them all. Ten percent don't want to be injected with the vaccines that will save lives. When my TV breaks, I don't take a vote on what I should do. I call an expert. Some people are experts in repairing TVs. Some are experts in making financial decisions for companies. Some are experts in leading countries."
  
  "So... what do you need from us?" you ask.
  
  "The position is simply. I'm willing to pay you five hundred thousand dollars a year, each, with perks such as a company car, free healthcare and dental and we'll pay for all your travel, accommodation, further training, weapons and equipment. These wages will increase slowly over time. In exchange, you'll complete various missions from me. Enemies of mine will be killed, kidnapped or blackmailed. The pesky Supers who stand against me, many of which who are the sons and daughters of the one percent, I may add, will be convinced, killed or kidnapped. I have a lot I need done. The destruction of a Saudi Arabian pipeline would help increase my power through my control over Alaskan and Texan Oil Rigs, and take from the rich Saudi Arabian oil barons.
  
  "Can we have a moment to think it over?" Luc asks.
  
  "Take your time."
  
  Maximov strolls out of the room, followed by Sgt Doyle, leaving you all alone.
  
  "So, what are we saying?" Luc asks. "He seems like he has reasonable morals."
  
  "Fuck the morals! He's going to pay us half a million! A year! I'll lynch babies for that!" Seamus says.
  
  "Travelling across the world, blowing shit up and killing people? That sounds like a good life. Let's take it to a vote. Do we agree to his contract, or disagree?"
  
  "I'm in," Seamus says.
  
  > vote for agreeing
  "I say we join," you say.
  
  "Me too," Shada says.
  
  "That's all four of us," Luc says. "Mr Maximov!"
  
  Mr Maximov enters the room again, smiling.
  
  "Have you decided?"
  
  "We would like to agree."
  
  "Perfect," Maximov says, showing a dazzling smile.
  
  He slides a contract across, as well as four pens. You each sign your name at the bottom, and he takes it back.
  
  "Perfect. I treat my allies well. I have gifts for you."
  
  He opens his jacket, taking out four folded documents, sliding one to each of you.
  
  "Go ahead. Open it."
  
  You open it, and find a dossier. You begin reading it.
  
  Name: Michael Kingston
  
  Date of Birth: 1/2/1983
  
  Aliases: Crimson Cape
  
  "From my research, I've gathered that he killed both your parents and your younger brother. Feel free to do what you want with that information. It contains his schedule, his place of birth, his allergies, anything you might need. For Ms Melik, I have the names and locations of the men behind her attack, and for Luc and Seamus, they're receipts for payments of one million US dollars that have been deposited in your parents bank accounts. For Mia and Shada."
  
  "Thanks," you say, as Shada echoes your offer.
  
  "I think we'll be good allies, children," Mr Maximov smiles.
  
  > Continue
  Wolf
  
  The Crimson Cape flew high above the city, staring down at the people below. His people. His cape billowed in the wind, and he felt proud at how safe his city had become. He flew lower, before a sharp pain pierced his side. He saw a harpoon-thing jamming into his side, before it rapidly began dragging him towards the ground. He yelled as he was dragged quickly downwards, slamming into the floor of an alleyway. He rolled along the ground, before an explosion slammed him into the wall. He groaned, coughing blood. He tried to stand, but a figure in combat armor charged out, slamming his fist into him and knocking him to the ground. He groaned, looking up at four figures standing above him. There was a pale, skinny man who barely looked older than nineteen holding a harpoon launcher-type weapon, the bulky figure wearing brass knuckles, a girl tossing a grenade between her hands and finally a young cyborg holding a sword.
  
  "You're the latest hired crew sent to kill me, huh?" he said, spitting blood onto the ground. "Are you proud of yourselves? Tell me, how much is my life worth?"
  
  "This is personal, Michael," the cyborg swordsman said.
  
  "Why?" Michael asked, coughing blood.
  
  "You don't know who I am, obviously. How about Alan Taylor? Kevin Min? Jack Min-Taylor? Any of them ring a bell? You killed them. You "super-heroes" cause so much damage, but you don't care. You..."
  
  Michael tried to swing at her, but she dodged, running her sword through his throat. Blood burst from his throat as he let out a finally, pathetic gurgling sound as the life left him.
  
  "Burn in hell, Crimson Cape," Mia said, spitting on him. "Shada, Luc, Seamus! Let's go! Drinks are on me."
  
  "Fantastic! I could use a drink!" Seamus said, wrapping an arm around Shada and strolling off.
  
  Mia smiled, leaning in and kissing Luc briefly.
  
  "Thanks for this. It helped."
  
  "Of course," Luc smiles. "Now let us go off and get terrifically wasted!"
  
  Mia smiled, walking away from the crime scene.