Eschaton Trials Issue 1: Welcome To The Times
 

Behold the people as one, and now nothing which they have imagined to do will be restrained from them.

It had been a week, but it seemed the worst was over. 12 seconds after the Incident you realized that most of the people around you were gone. 12 hours later and the power plants run by people now dead at their posts shut down. Who knew what to expect by day 12.

The Tower was the most visible structure for miles. The solar panels of Metropotamia, the city that Beacon had established as the city upon a hill for a world emerging from World War II, kept it as lit as it had been in the highlights of history, so it was no surprise that in these worst of times there came those attempting to attain a measure of hope or stability. They gathered in the shadow of Babel Tower, their common desire uniting them for something much greater than their pasts.

Joshua Stearns is still in a state of shock. It wasn't quite the deaths of his friends and loves ones that had effected him so, for he was a doctor and he was used to death and all its costs, it was the sheer mind numbing scale of those deaths, leaving probably less then one percent of the total population of earth alive.

Joshua, of all those left, is perhaps one of the few who have little to fear about the collapse of society and all those attending costs, from lack of food, water, and electricity, to the rampage of diseases unchecked by sanitation, for no one could hope to dispose of the mounds of dead laying in every place and area of the world.

At first Joshua had thought that he was the only one left due to his power of the manipulation of time, but in a few days he had seen enough powered individuals in the remains of New York, where his practice had been located, that he had reasoned that somehow the energies that gave them such incredible abilities had protected many of them from whatever had killed the world.

And so, still numb, Joshua started to make his way to Metropotamia and the Babel Tower, one of the few places of gathering for super powered individuals that he knew about and could reach with his abilities. Joshua had used his abilities to allow himself to run all the way here from New York; the highways were clogged with the wrecks of cars and only on foot could he maneuver around to be able to use them.

Joshua had been waiting on the footsteps of Babel Tower for four days, watching as the powered individuals came in and out slowly, many of them at as much as a loss for what to do as he was. He had offered his services as a doctor to a few of the individuals who were injured, but overall he had been here waiting for one of the great heroes, or merely someone with initiative, to bring news, organization, and hopefully purpose.

A week was a long time when everything you had known was taken away. His super model girlfriend, his agent, all his photo shoot appointments, were gone. Blown away like dust in the wind. When Kurt woke up and saw the new world, A world where there were no little people, he retreated deep inside. Leaving in his place only Crash. A super hero with a lust for adrenaline pumping action. A super hero with a need to find out what was going on, and exact righteous vengence upon the culprit. For the little people that the worlds heroes had let down.

So Crash doned his goggles and leaped into the air, using his powers to fly* to Babel Tower. He saw many things along the way, cities in anarchy, fires burning rampantly, and most disturbingly, a lack of people. When Crash finally arrived he did so in his usual fanfare. Increasing his body weight he impacted into the ground sending up a cloud of dust and bits of rock off in every direction. He emerged from his small crater with a feirce look on his chisled face. "On who's watch did this atrocity occur!?" He demanded of the Message robot, which stood before the vaulted gates of the Babel tower. To which it replied "That dosn't answer my question. Now answer me promptly!" He again demanded. Unfortunently the message mearly repeated again. It seemed that Crash would be there for some time lest he was pulled away.


*Think super mario world

John had been waiting at the tower for about an hour, listening to the little droid repeat its message. After about ten minutes he had finally said "Shut the fuck up!" and punted it a good distance away.

Then, as it was returning, some jackass landed heavily, throwing up dust and making a huge crater. What a prick. John strode over angrily, the dirt and rock thrown into the air and around by the making of the crater flowing back into the hole to return the ground to how it was. "Oy!" He demanded, the dust on his clothes flowing into his right hand. "What the fuck, man?"

"This seems to be where everyone is gathering... Hi, everyone..." Sardi said as he approached the tower. His brown-blond hair was stained with dirt and mud, which had also dirtied his skin and suit. After hearing the message, a tear rolled down his cheek. So many people were dead. It was a dark day.

"Do... Do any of you know what happened?" he asked as he wiped the tear from his cheek.

As Sardi asked his question, a red motorcycle came soaring though the air, landing and skidding to a halt. Jungle Cat leaped off and landed next to Sardi.

"Seems all the non-supers got wiped out. From all I know it's world-wide. Has anyone seen any of the Stalwarts?"

After the Event

-Transportation Unit 01 Rebooting-
-Energy Level (Normal) 82%-
-All Systems Read Normal-
-Teleportation Operational
-Flight Operational
-Derisive Humor Found
-Memory ERROR Found-
-Initializing-

Transit awoke on a rooftop somewhere in Manhattan, atop a very large pile of money. He paused to figure out how he had arrived there only to find three minutes and thirty-seven point six seconds missing from his memory banks. Needless to say he was annoyed, then somewhat elated he had kept the money.

The heist had not gone well, that much he remembered.

Remembering that he rushed to the rooftop’s edge, a single burst of blue light from the pile to the edge and he was there. He would have wretched if he could have, instead he merely studied the scene beneath him with an emotional distance available only to robots or doctors.

The bodies. So many bodies. They were everywhere, what had happened here? He tried to remember again. Nothing. He sat miserably atop the pile of money, thinking. Some perfect memory system I have… Transit had been created because of a single simple reason, rapid and repeated teleportation created faults in short term memory of humans. However exempt of that he still had no idea what had happened here.

And so he sat, and thought.

Day 2

Energy Level (Moderate) 43.5%

Transit sat in the dark of his once impressive lair; it was a technological force to be reckoned with. Now however it was just inoperable crap. He sat morosely atop a makeshift throne of televisions, computers, money, gold and diamonds. What was the point? He stole everything but could spend nothing. And was it really stealing if everyone of interest was dead. Sure the empowered were still around but without the extraordinary fear of the averages what was the point of stealing.

And so he sat, and thought.

Day 4

Energy Level (Critical) 03.1%

Transit needed power, badly. The last ounce of juice from the main power grid had been used up days ago. He was walking down the street like a common person now, in the search of anything that could save him. In his wandering he passed by a car with its emergency blinkers on.

He stopped. He ripped open the car’s hood with fervor, connecting up to the battery and then opening his chest plate. Theoretically they were incompatible but at this point he was willing to take the risk. He connected the jumper cables to his internal power supply.

Day 5

-Transportation Unit 01 Rebooting-
-Energy Level (Critical) 02.9%-
-Damage Found In Chest Casing-
-Memory ERROR Present-
-Initializing-

Transit awoke in a daze. He was beyond bad in shape, a burn scorched his chest internally and he was still low on power. The car he’d hooked up to had been on fire, it was a charred shell now. If he’d been programmed with the ability he would have sighed. Instead he cursed.

Not bothering to shut his chest he began his walk down the street again. He heard someone shouting in the distance. Transit wandered in that direction only to find atop the courthouse steps Hourglass. The prophet of New York or at the least, lower Manhattan.

“It’s the end! The end is not nigh it is now. Behold damnation! We are damned! All of us, each and every one! You!” He pointed to Transit, but as Transit was the only one around Hourglass really did not need to be so specific. “You will only find hope if you reach the power, the light of Excalibur!” He laughed insanely.

Transit stared for a moment as his brain automatically searched for all instances of Excalibur. There were over a dozen, most of them themed restaurants, but Transit got the message. A flash of blue and he was gone.

“But you will not find forgiveness. For we are all doomed!” The prophet Hourglass continued to shout his doomsday predictions. But there was no one to hear him now.

He was alone.

Day 7

Energy Level (Good) 99.71%

Transit was flying over the passing countryside; his energy banks were full thanks to the Excalibur Hydroelectric Plant in New Jersey. While Transit hated going there, it had been necessary. Now he could continue avoiding New Jersey at all costs again.

He saw Babel Tower in the distance, measured his rate of speed and then teleported. A burst of blue light later and he was flying down the side of the building, saving 00.09% of his energy by teleporting instead of flying. He could have arrived right at the entrance but he preferred to make a big entrance.

This of course was ruined. The crater-creating madman who was shouting at a message droid had a flamboyant entrance that besmirched aerial acrobatics and swirling blue trails. Transit wished to sigh and again, he could not.

Instead he quietly landed, sat down on the steps and thought. What now?

The Incident had devastating effects on Mr. Astounding and the Great Eight.

One and Three were out on a scouting mission, and a few minutes after the Incident happened, the satellite link they had shut down. Number One had temporal awareness and Number Three had balls, so Bruce didn't worry about them too much. The worst that could happen to them on a stealth mission would be a hike through the wilderness.

Seven was visiting his parents in the jungles of South Africa when the Incident occurred, phone and everything left behind to get in touch with nature. Again, the worst that could happen to Seven would be a lawsuit from some very injured poachers, so Bruce did not worry.

Before the Incident, Eight had the most useful support power. He had mild telepathy and super-organization, allowing him to grant the team a psychic connection as well as catalog information better than any computer available for reasonable purchase. After the Incident, Eight's telepathy became so strong that any connection would cause a hive-mind (decidedly bad for anyone), and his super-micromanagement amplified into OCD. Eight exiled himself to save his friends and possibly find a way to bring his powers back to normal.

Two, Five, and Six joined Señor Nefario y los Diez Diabólicos, now Doce Diabólicos*. They all had their own good reasons for leaving, but Bruce couldn't bring himself to join them and become a villain. Nefario's crew watched out for each other though, so Bruce knew that they'd be safe for now.

That brings us to Mr. Astounding. He was out making a cameo for the Stalwarts when the Incident occurred. He has since gone missing without a trace.

Investigating the whereabouts of Mr. Astounding was no easy task. Sure, the first idea would be to look through the abandoned Astounding Manor, the not-so-secret lair of the beloved superhero and his friends. It would be quite simple if Bruce's power list included Super Sight, Super Insight, or Super Luck. It did not, however, so he instead decided to head straight to Babel Tower, the Mr. Astounding's last known location, for clues.

The only vehicle left at the manor was the Eightbike** and Bruce was bad with directions, so it took almost a week to reach the Babel Tower. He pulled up to the group, took off his helmet, and asked, "Are all supers coming to the tower? I didn't expect to see people still coming in."


*They had thirteen, but Señor Nefario solved a lot of issues by killing the one who suggested they change their name to Trece Terribles.
**Not a motor vehicle.

It took Crash a moment to realize he was being spoken too. He processed it for a moment why would someone be yelling at him, he was only trying to save the world. That must make such a fowl mouthed man a Villain! "You there! Are you the Super fiend responsible for these atrocities!?" He said pointing a dramatic finger at John. His muscles quivering with righteous Hero rage.

As bad luck would have it, the others all began arriving and speaking just then. "AH I see! So it is a group of you villainous villains! What manner of technological or mystical trickery did you all perform to cause such a horrible affair!?"Crash swept an accusatory finger at everyone in range of it. One thing was certain, Crash had no idea what was going on.

His head in his hands Joshua laughed slightly hysterically and said quietly Gods, I didn't think you people actually talked like that. First real laugh I've had in days. Calm down, everyone I've talked to has been completely clueless about this disaster.

Groaning slightly Joshua mutters If this wasn't so horrible it would almost be surreal. I mean hah, I'm only a city doctor and I'm sitting on the steps of Babel Tower tending to the remnants of the entire world's population, which is totally comprised of super powered individuals as far as I can tell.