<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/XfHbD.jpg)</div><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><strong>  Name:</strong>Khutulan Karpitskaya<br/>  <strong>Title:</strong> Crimson Dynamo<br/>  <strong>Affiliation:</strong>  Resistance<br/>  <strong>Location:</strong>   Moscow<br/>  <strong>Tags:</strong>Open<br/></span></span><hr/><br/><strong>Car Dealership, Outskirts of Moscow<br/><br/>   Twenty Four Hours ago...</strong><br/><br/>A four person team of newly minted mutants clad in powered armor closed in on the massive cargo helicopter, inexplicably parked in the middle of the lot. Between the four recently judged mutants, one was capable of projecting bioelectric fields and barriers, another possessed pyrophobic breath and near immunity to heat and flame unless extreme, another showed limited metal shaping and technopathic abilities and the fourth had an almost mundane ability of class twenty strength and accompanying durability. But all four of them were wearing powered armor, capable of making them fly and highly resistant to shrapnel, small arms and environmental extremes as well as a basic sensor suite and optics. And all of them were toting assault rifles, freshly liberated from Russian military and police armories, except the strong fellow, who was wielding a light machine gun like it was a toy one handed.<br/><br/>Apparently the leader, the strong one approached the helicopter and immediately ascertained the obvious. “They abandoned the helicopter here. Find them,” he then ordered the technopath who, with a glance at the ground, simply smiled.<br/><br/>“They took vehicles and drove off to the east, down the side highway. We can catch up to them if we use the afterburners,” the technopath replied in a crisp voice filtered by his armored mask as he referred to the jet like thrusters all four of their armor suits possessed. “They'll be easy to track, as will the betrayer,” he continued, referring to the mysterious captured fighter pilot who had managed to spring over a hundred prisoners awaiting judgment and having tracked their helicopter here finally. Having rogue mutants who had just been judged was a problem that the command wanted squelched immediately. There were already reports in other cities of rogue mutants who were specifically created by judgments going rogue, even joining the resistance. It was something that demanded an end.<br/><br/>The four of them prepared their afterburners, with the leader launching upwards into the air, his jump jets blasting outward from under him, propelling him a hundred feet into the air before his flight thrusters took over when the technopath suddenly paused, signaling him to stop. “Wait I sense something,” the technopath said, the mutated areas of his brain suddenly buzzing. He could sense something... unnatural. Artifical. Technological. But it was so feint that he couldn't draw a bead on it. But he could sense it closing in upon them.<br/><br/>Warily the other mutants turned their attention outwards to the abandoned car lot as the team leader hovered above them.<br/><br/>Almost a literal ton of hyperadvanced alloy smashed through the super strong mutant, his comparatively thin armor making the sound similar to that of paper being torn in half as the Crimson Dynamo fell through the enemy mutant at terminal velocity. The impact reduced the middle of the mutants armored body into a bloody mist, and severed the upper and lower halves of its body in midair. At the last moment, the technopath looked straight up.<br/><br/>He had sensed the incoming threat, just as Khutulan activated her own suits boot thrusters in an effort to slow her down. Normally, the thrusters were washed with cold air so that they wouldn't incinerate or scald any nearby bystanders. She turned off that safeguard just this once as the flesh wasn't so much cooked off the technopaths unarmored face as it was blasted off by the sheer concussive force and thermal energy that blasted down against him. The muscle and bone underneath was immediately roasted, as teeth and eyeballs popped out like kernals in the microwave before that same one ton armor landed squarely on top off the technopath, flattening him into a crater in the asphalt.<br/><br/>The somewhat hard landing barely phased Khutulan as she immediately turned her suits formidable conventional weapons suite on the remaining two mutants who easily noticed the Crimson Dynamo in their midst. Even in their telepathic delusion, both of these judged Russians immediately recognized one of the most iconic symbols of the superhuman side of the Cold War as the Crimson Dynamo towered over them and in a cold, mechanical voice, Khutulan delivered her ultimatum. “Yield to the Crimson Dynamo and to the Motherland and you will be spared,” she grimly remarked as she raised and activated the rotary weapon arrays mounted on her suits wrists at the remaining two mutants.<br/><br/>A momentary indecision washed over the remaining foes, but ultimately the artificial and unnatural dominance that Apocalypse's judgment gave them steeled their resolves, and doomed them to the consequence of facing the new Crimson Dynamo unprepared and at a disadvantage. Or was it?<br/><br/>The facemask of the firebreath suddenly slid back, telegraphing his offensive action as he drew in two lungfuls of breath. But being a fighter pilot, Khutulan reacted far quicker then it took to breath, and with a single thought, sent a command surging through to weapons control as the cannons mounted on her wrists unleashed twin torrents of particle cannon fire, the hypercharged particles hurtling towards both targets in unison. The head of the firebreath exploded, his armor doing an admirable job of containing the explosion within his helmet as he toppled back headless, but the fourth and final mutant foe with a thought of his own, erected a bioelectric field that almost effortlessly blocked the energized particles and caused them to uselessly patter against the invisible membrane he was erected.<br/><br/>Thinking quickly, Khutulan switched from the particle acceleration cannons to her cutting lasers, only to see the focused beam of coherent light, capable of cutting military grade steel like butter, uselessly hum against the same bioelectric barrier, with only the flaring cackle of electricity showing the blocked impact of her weapon. Wary, Khutulan finally slid back an armored chest panel and let loose with a single anti-armor, high explosive miniaturized missile and let it launch towards the remaining mutant, only to have it explode upon contact with the same bioelectric forcefield.<br/><br/>The mutant remained not only unharmed, but nonplussed as with another thought and grunt, suddenly hurled the same invisible membrane of bioelectric force forward, no longer using it as a shield but forming it mentally into a battering ram, one that didn't smash into her armored suit, but instead surged through her armor as suddenly her heads up display flickered and she felt a suddenly jolt of raw pain send a surge of numbness up through her neck via her attached brain stem.<br/><br/>“Unnnggghhh....” she grunted, her eyelids fluttering, fingers and toes curled in what she could best feel was some sort of physical anti-climax as despite her deadened state, she suddenly felt the shock of pain ripple through her body as the bioelectric field washed through her.<br/><br/>But that is all it did.<br/><br/>Anton Vanko was an electrical genius, and far surpassed even the infamous Howard and Tony Stark in that respect. His suit reflected that. It was insulated and protected against all manners of electrical and electromagnetic based weaponry and threats, including those Vanko never even dreamed of beyond the theoretical when he designed the first Crimson Dynamo suit. It hurt, but neither she nor the armor were permanently damaged, or even seriously curbed. She responded quickly, not with more energy weapons or missiles, but suddenly surged forward as she pivoted her boots upward, usinghte thrusters to literally slid mere millimeters above the ground and smash all two thousand pounds of her armor into the remaining mutant, smashing into him with unreserved force.<br/><br/>She couldn't hear the crunching of fractured bones over the din of the impact of armor against armor, with hers coming out the winner. Towering over the broken body of the remaining mutant, she glanced down and aimed the same cutting laser at its heart. It punched through the mutants armored carapace, slicing through the meet and severing the bioelectric wielding mutants heart in twain near instantaneously.<br/><br/>And that was that.<br/><br/>Looking up, Khutulan checked around for other threats after killing the last of the mutants. Her trial by fire had been a success. Glancing at the corpses, she realized only two of them were relatively intact. She'd bring both back for the bases doctors and scientists to perform autopsies on.<br/><br/>Meanwhile she'd get her armored suit refitted and touched up for some real action. She wanted to get to Moscow as soon as possible. She didn't need to rest much after all. Being dead or something close to it had its advantages after all. Rest was for the living.<br/>