The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It was time. And I was ready.

Hoping to catch up with Lacie Ann, or the children, I tried calling them each, only to find they were involved in other matters. Smiling with a sense of pride, I left them all a loving message, a promise that, God willing, I would return to them on the morrow. Likewise, I left a message for Parker, Veronica, Eva, Sarah, Valerie, and Sylvia...the rest of my extended family. Parker, I knew, would take some time to cool down after our argument the other day...but I hoped that, if my words to him turned out to be my last ones, at least in time he would come to understand why I’d made the choices I had.

And speaking of which...Grimalde. I wasn’t quite sure about him. Not by a long shot. After meeting him in person, I couldn’t quantify him as an enemy anymore....nor as a friend. Right now he was classified simply as a ‘resource’...possibly an ally under the right conditions. if I lived through this, I would have to see about mending the fence between his Tearbearers and my family. Patty was probably a lost cause...but with Angela, aye, there was still hope. And Delores, the lovely lass...and the new ones who had taken their place.

Aye. Life’s too short to spend it bearing grudges. Funny how ye only notice that fact when ye reach the end.

Standing outside on the roof of the hotel, I ran a diagnostic check on all armor systems, regulating the power supply to the weapons and defensive systems, and removed the safety protocols on all my lethal weaponry. This was war I was heading into...no quarter asked and none given. The words I’ve spoke to Karen Summers several days ago came back to me then: I did what was necessary. If you want to follow me, you had better be prepared to do the same...

And then...Lacie’s words to me from the day before came back to me as well: There are certain things that ye just cannae do, certain lines that you cannae cross. And, once crossed, you cannae go back. Sighing deeply, I reestablished my safety protocols again. I’d have to treat this incursion on a situational basis, and adjust my weapons as needed on site. It would be a bit more work...but at least I wouldn’t inadvertently end any innocent lives if I could help it.

So. Was I ready for this? Ready to face my brother after all this time? No. Not really. I’d never truly be ready to face him. But prepared? Aye...I’m as prepared for this as I could possibly be. Everything has fallen into place just as I’d hoped, and with my ‘ace in the hole’ I have all the cards I need. Powering up my boot jets, I took off, heading skyward towards the airport.

Now, I only have to hope he doesnae have a better hand than I do...

Patricia breezed into Nigel’s office, having received his call for what she assumed would be an impromptu lunch date, “Hi Honey, what’s up?”

Uncharacteristically, Nigel Grimalde remained seated behind his desk. He didn’t rise to greet her with a hug and a kiss. He didn’t favor her with a smile. He didn’t even look up to meet her eyes. Instead he picked up a remote, pointed it at the huge monitor on the opposite wall, and pressed a single button.

The monitor came alive with narrated news footage that purported to show Armor Man extorting some unknown serum from Nigel Grimalde by threatening him and his family with bodily harm and backing up his threats by wrecking Grimalde’s office.

“Nigel...Nigel, I can explain...”

“I’m sure you can, Dear,” said Grimalde in a flat, emotionless voice, “but we don’t have time for that anymore. I need to know what else you did.”

“What makes you think—”

“I’M NOT A FUCKING IDIOT, PATRICIA!” He stopped, visibly calmed himself and continued, “What. Else.”

“Nigel,” Patricia began, starting to tear up. “I did it for y—”

“What else, Patricia?” Nigel repeated, barely keeping his anger in check. He stared at her hard. “Are you going to actually MAKE ME order you to tell me?”

Her shoulders slumped. She gave up. “I...I called Frasier’s brother.”

“And...”

“I warned Duncan that Eugene had the serum, and that he was going to kill him with it.”

Nigel groaned inwardly.“I see. Come with me.”

Springing from his desk he grabbed her arm and pulled him after her.

“Nigel, where are we going?”

“Portland.”

“Portland?” she protested, trying hard to keep up with the brisk pace he was setting. “Nigel, I can’t just leave! I have planning meetings, a plea negotiation, a freaking deposition!”

He stopped. “Patricia, I’m not ordering you, but I’m telling you how it is. There is nothing in the world—Literally nothing—more important than doing everything that we can to fix this mess. That means you coming with me to Portland for a press conference.“

“Why Portland? You have a press briefing room right here in the building.”

“It’s the damn bimbo virus,” he said grimly. “We’re resistant to the effects, thanks to Angela, but even we’ll succumb in time. We have to go somewhere NOW, where our statement won’t be overshadowed by what’s going on here. We have to act quickly though. If we don’t make it to Portland before the word leaks out, they’ll quarantine us. I’m calling in every favor anyone in the media or government owes me to keep a lid on this until after we have our camera time.“

“Nigel,” Patricia asked, beginning to realize that Nigel wasn’t just mad, that he was scared. Which scared HER more than she thought possible. “What is it? What...what’s happening?”

“I’ll explain it on the way over, but we have to move NOW!” Looking over her shoulder, he added, “Constance, you’re with us.”

Soon they were on the roof and climbing into the waiting helicopter. As they flew away she thought that surely he would tell her what this was all about now, but still he ignored her. He was screaming into his cell phone for Sioban to leave the fucking class, that her tenure didn’t matter, that she had to find one of Frasier’s friends: Echo, Whitewash, Omega Girl, ANYBODY...AND NOW. Then he got Tawnya on the phone and actually told her to skip school! He gave her basically the same orders: “Whoever you find, tell them that they need to get a message to Armor Man. Tell him Nigel says that Duncan knows about the serum! He’ll understand.”

Now he turned to his wife, “Patricia, what do you know about Duncan Frasier?”

“Just that he’s Eugene’s brother, that they’re having some kind of feud, and that the crazy old man is going to try to kill him with the serum he stole from you.”

“Patricia...he didn’t steal it.”

“Extorted then.”

“Honey, he traded me for it. What he gave me was more than worth the serum.”

“What, some tiny little gun?”

“Yes, a gun that shoots Omega beams and incorporates nano-tech twenty years in advance of current state of the art. But that’s not the point! Patricia, I would have given him the serum for FREE after he told me why he needed it. Any sane person would have.”

“What are you talking about?”

This being Nigel Grimalde’s helicopter, there were plenty of monitors about. He gestured to the nearest one and said, “Let me show you Duncan Frasier.”

What followed was satellite footage of the near-apocalyptic battle between some hulking, muscular, barely-human-looking behemoth and Omega Girl, a battle that the heroine was clearly losing. And then, the monster broke off the battle and retreated.

Patricia’s hand was over her mouth, her eyes wide with horror, “THAT was Duncan Frasier?!?”

“Yes, Patricia. This is from 12 years ago, from when he tried to kidnap their children.”

“Nigel...I’ve never seen anything like that! He could have killed her!”

“And if he didn’t need her DNA he would have. Patricia, he’s a megalomaniacal genius, he’s incorporated the superpowers of God knows how many superbeings into his own body, and he’s trying, I shit you not, to take over the world. If Eugene doesn’t stop him, he will.”

Finally Patricia gets it. “Oh...Oh my God!” she breathed, head shaking in denial. “What have I done?”

For the first time since she came to him, Nigel softened, he smiled. “You’ve done what you always seem to be doing these days. You tried to save me.” He leaned forward, holding her face lightly in his hands, kissing her gently. “’My Heroine’. But that’s water under the bridge, baby. For now, we have to work together to try to fix this.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Here’s the story. SOMEBODY, we don’t know who, got footage of an innocent business meeting in which Armor Man was helping with some product testing. That person chopped the footage into a hoax portraying Armor Man as some kind of extortionist. We don’t know why, but we’re here to tell the truth.”

“So how do I figure into this?”

“You, my dear,” said Nigel, grinning an evil grin, “are the dutiful wife who just happens to be a high-ranking federal prosecutor. You’re going to launch an investigation to find out who did this and bring them to justice. You’ll ultimately fail by the way. Sorry. I know how you hate losing. Anyway, Constance will feed you your lines telepathically. But let me finish briefing you. Then you have some phone calls of your own to make. After this dog and pony show is over we’re heading right back home. We’ve got work to do.”

“This...is BREAKING NEWS from the Action Nine News Team. We join our own Sarah Jenkins live at the Portland Sales Office of GrimTech, Inc. for a press conference with GrimTech Chairman and CEO Nigel Grimalde. Sarah?”

“Thank you, Alan. Nigel Grimalde, CEO of GrimTech, arrived just minutes ago with his wife, Chief Federal Prosecutor Patricia Grimalde.”

“They’re often referred to as ‘The Ultimate Power Couple’, right, Sarah?”

“Indeed, Alan. Nigel Grimalde is a long-time captain of industry and one of three billionaires who live in nearby River City. Patricia Grimalde, his wife, stepped into the spotlight for the first time just five years ago when she led the prosecution team that convicted the leaders of the infamous ‘Pimpco’ prostitution ring. Pimpco had slave brothel operations in 17 cities in the US and Canada. Mrs. Grimalde is credited with saving over 250 young women from a life of sexual slavery. And her string of high-profile cases—and convictions—has only grown from there. The topic of this announcement is a mystery, but apparently it has something to do with the news from yesterday that the rogue hero ‘Armor Man’ threatened Mr. Grimalde at gunpoint. Alan, it looks like they’re ready to start.”

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, my name is Nigel Grimalde and I am here to correct a grave injustice that was perpetrated yesterday, IN MY NAME, against one of the finest heroes ever to serve the public good. Just over a week ago, Armor Man came to my office, at my request, to help demonstrate a new defensive technology that our law and military division has developed.”

Murmurs swept the crowd. Nigel continued. “The so-called extortion at my office was actually nothing of the kind. The video, what snippets of it there actually were, was real, but the audio was a complete forgery.” More, louder murmurs. “Now, on the monitor behind me you will see the actual UNCUT video of what happened that day. Sorry for the lack of audio, but this demonstrates proprietary technology that we hope to make a boatload of money off of. Allow me to have a little mystery, please.”

Everyone laughs. Nigel has them in the palm of his hand. “Let me walk you through it. At our request, Armor Man has incorporated into his suit, a GrimTech prototype energy dampening field, designed to absorb the blasts of pulse rifles. Here you see Armor Man holding a small pulse pistol at the ready for the second part of the demo. Now, HERE you see 16 marksmen training high-powered pulse rifles at Armor Man and firing. Notice that there is no effect whatsoever. The energy field is absorbing the pulses completely. Now, see me jumping in to tell the shooters to stop. The energy field is rather noisy, and they couldn’t hear my cease-fire order. But when I jumped into the field to get their attention, I was in absolutely no danger, and I got them to stop firing. Now, coming up soon...here it is...notice the second part of the demo. From within the field, Armor Man is firing the pulse pistol. Notice that the field does NOT stop the outward pulses from the pistol. See the damage it’s doing. Now part three. Armor Man hands me the pulse pistol and I demonstrate that, from outside the field firing in, it is just as ineffective as were the big guns from the earlier demonstration. And again, Armor Man takes the pistol and demonstrates that outbound pulses from within the field are unimpeded.

“And that’s the whole story folks. There was no extortion. There was no ‘rogue hero’. There was no evil intent. Just a pre-arranged demonstration of new technology that went off without a hitch.” The assembled reporters all roared their questions at once, but Nigel brought them back down, “Now, now, now, everyone. There will be plenty of time for questions, but first my wife has a statement. Patricia?”

“Thank you, Nigel. Unlike my beloved’s,” soft laughter all around, “my statement will be brief,” more laughter, “It is clear that whoever put together this hoax video was trying to harm Armor Man’s reputation. We are putting together a task force to investigate ALL the recent allegations of rogue activity by Armor Man. Based on this blatant forgery we can only assume that other reports have been similarly forged. We’ve contacted the local FBI liaison, who had the video analyzed and confirmed what we already knew to be true. I even have a sworn and signed an affidavit from his office to that effect. Followers of the legal difficulties of superheroes may recall that this affidavit comes from the same office that provided expert testimony in the trial of Umbra last month. That office certified the video evidence that exonerated the young hero. We are certain that they have done and will continue to do the same for Armor Man. So let me reiterate myself and make one thing perfectly clear in this matter: We will NOT rest until we find the person or persons responsible for these hoaxes and bring them to justice.”

Now Nigel stepped to the podium again, “Questions anyone?”

Parker Albinn shuts off the TV and turns to his wife Veronica. “There it is, Roni. The Seventh Sign of the Apocalypse. Nigel and Patricia Grimalde standing up for a Frasier.”

“I saw it too, love. With my own two eyes,” she replied sliding easily out of bed, her naked form glistening slightly with sweat, walking over to the bedroom closet, grabbing a dark blue silken bathrobe.

“Yeah. I can’t help but wonder what his game is though. First of all his story about ‘what really happened’ is complete bullshit.”

“What?” said Roni, “How do you know that?”

“Oh, come on, Roni! Eugene working with GrimTech on a pulse-neutralizing technology, while he’s in the middle of the fight of his life against his brother? That is so not happening. And besides, that little gun they kept passing back and forth wasn’t a pulse pistol. It was our prototype Omega Beam pistol, the one with the DNA-checking grip. I should know, my team developed it, and I freaking brought it to him. The briefcase in the video was the same one I handed him myself earlier that same day.“

“Okay,” said Roni, “so Grimalde’s lying about what really happened, but still, he’s defending Eugene. That’s got to count for something, right?”

“Not much. Not in my book. Grimalde’s surely not doing this out of the goodness of his heart. He doesn’t have one.”

“A ‘goodness’ or a ‘heart’.”

“Either.”

Roni sighed heavily, pulling her bathrobe tighter against her. She knew the reason for her husband’s ire against the Grimaldes, and that his anger was merely a smokescreen for the true emotion he felt. Guilt. Crippling, powerful, deep set guilt over not being able to save Patty back when she was still just a young teenage girl, and for getting her and Angie Prentiss’ involved with Satore in the first place. She herself had been ensnared by that so-called Goddess’ power, had become nothing more than her willing plaything, and though she’d resented it for a time, she’d realized that Parker had been just as much a victim of that evil witch as the rest of them.

If anything, I blame that bitch Patty even more that her husband. She’s the one that’s nursed this grudge and kept it alive for so long. She glanced sidelong over at Parker, who’d left the bed to stare out their bedroom window, deep in thought. That last time we risked everything to infiltrate Grimalde Tower, bypassing their security, taking out their guards one by one, literally fighting our way in to save her...and she’d screamed and fought us, even threatening legal action if we didn’t leave, as if WE were the ones who had abducted her!

She still remembered the look on the girl’s face, and the words she’d spoke, directed solely at Parker. And she still recalled the look on Parker’s face, the fight going completely out of him, as he simply turned and walked away, leaving without a word, knowing it was a lost cause.

He hadn’t even fully recovered from his gunshot wound, either, she recalled. No super speed, no sonic abilities, and yet he begged me to help him free them as soon as he’d heard what had happened. He was dealing with his own demons all the while. But did that matter to that self-righteous little bitch in the slightest? She growled, trying to suppress the furious hatred she felt towards the girl. C’mon, Roni...you don’t REALLY want to kill her with your bare hands. She’s...not in her right mind...she didn’t mean to hurt your husband’s very soul...and if she’s trying to help Eugene now, then she can’t be all bad...right?

The sound of the doorbell ringing broke her from her dark thoughts. “I’ll get it,” Parker murmured, sliding on his own robe, walking to the front door. Opening the door, he took a step back in surprise. A tall, young, dark skinned girl stood there, panting slightly, breathless as if she’d run a long way. He was struck by her face, her beauty, and the ample swell of his breasts so strongly that it was a moment before he noticed the costume and the wings. His interest faded instantly, like a bucket of cold ice water splashing down on him, and he nodded simply, placing a hand across the doorway, barring entrance.

“Oh. It’s you,” he said coldly, staring at her. “What do YOU want?”

Tawnya stepped back, surprised by the hostility. She had been so sure that this weird feeling of hers was taking her to the right place. But Luminaire wasn’t here, or Echo, or Shinobi, or Omega Girl. Just this civilian couple that really seemed to dislike her. Nigel needed her to do this, to get this right, to find someone who could send his message, and she was failing him. She felt so tired, and lost, and awful.

“Um...I...I’m sorry,” she replied, weary tears brimming in her eyes. “I...was, um, looking for, ah, someone else.” She turned away. “Sorry to bother you folks.”

“Wait! Hold on a second!” Veronica called out, pushing past her husband. “You’re...Ebony Angel, right? Who were you looking for?”

“I’m...” Tawnya began. I was actually hoping to run into Katie, to give her the warning directly to pass onto her dad...but Nigel said to pass it on to whomever I could find. And at least she looks like she’ll listen to me. “I’m looking for a friend of...ah...Armor Man, someone who can get a message to him.”

“Oh really?” Parker scowled, crossing his arms.

Tawnya’s thin mask of bravery began to crumble. Her tears began to flow in earnest. Why are these people being so mean to me?

“Your boss Nigel needs you to pass on a message to his new ‘bestest best friend’, so he sent his ‘carrier pigeon’—OWWW!”

“Parker! Be nice!” Roni growled, glaring at her husband. “Sorry, dear, don’t mind him. He’s had a rough couple of days.”

“Wait. You know that my Mas—, um, my message is from, ah, Nigel Grimalde? How did you know that?”

She sighed softly, shaking her head to clear it and keep her focus. The rampant bimbo virus that was sweeping the town was affecting her and Parker as well, though with their many years of control and discipline from martial arts it was easier for them to hold off the effects somewhat. The sight of the devastatingly buxom beauty before her nearly undid her, but she managed to regain her focus. Wait a minute! She doesn’t know who we are!

“S...sorry. I think we need to start over with the introductions. We’re Veronica and Parker Albinn, and we know that Nigel Grimalde has you under mind control.”

“Hold on now! No! It’s not really like that!” said Tawnya Oh God, no! I found the Albinns. Patricia and my own Tear Memories say they’re the worst possible ones, the most aggressive of the heroes on the Frasier side. Why did it have to be THEM? “Look. I...I don’t want any trouble. I just...Please, can’t you just help me?“

“Um...you were saying something about a message for Eugene?”

“Yeah. You have to tell him, ‘Nigel says that Duncan knows about the serum’. He said Eugene would understand what it meant.”

“Duncan...knows about the serum?” Roni said, frowning. “What serum? I don’t get it...”

“Neither do I,” Tawnya said, “but Nigel said it was imperative that he get that message immediately...that it was a matter of life and death. Please, I skipped school today to find someone to send this message. I’ve never done that before in my life! I’ve been looking for someone to help me all day. I’m so tired. Could you please, please just...do it?”

Roni caressed the girl’s bare shoulder, “Sure, honey, we’ll take care of it.”

She looked Parker straight in the eyes and added, “We promise.”

Tawnya looked like a two ton weight had lifted from her shoulders. She sighed, taking to the skies, having finally completed her hopeless mission. As she headed home, she thought to herself, Why didn’t I recognize them? I have Patricia’s Tear Memories of them. Then she examined those memories. Wow. I guess people’s looks can really change a lot in fifteen years. But Patricia looks almost the same as she looked back then. Huh, Tear Magic, I guess.

Roni and Parker watched the flying heroine leave, standing outside their house in the night for a long moment. “Well?” Roni asked her husband, questioning him. Parker, looking back at his wife, sighed loudly, nodding.

“Fine. I’ll send the message. Can’t believe Gene’s got me playing Grimalde’s messenger boy now...probably all part of Gene’s dastardly plan to drive me crazy.” Taking out his cell, he input Eugene’s private unlisted number and texted the message word for word. Finishing, he closed his cell and slid it back into his pocket. Roni, smiling, wrapped her arms around him, kissing him deeply.

“See honey? That wasn’t so hard. Now,” she purred, eyes drooping to half slits, “why don’t we go back inside and finish where we left off before that news report distracted us...” Grinning, feeling himself begin to respond, Parker followed his loving woman back into the house.

It’s good to have friends in high places. Mind, I’d never set out to make friends throughout the world and in all walks of life simply to be able to call in favors when needed. I was a billionaire philanthropist, and I owned a few thousand patents that meant that my family would never go hungry or want for a place to live. The rest was what my father and mother would have referred to as ‘showing off’ money, in fancy cars, huge mansions, fleets of limousines and fine jewelry, etc. Thankfully, Lacie appreciated the simpler things in life, as do I. I certainly did my best to make sure our kids grew up knowing the value of hard work as well. Suffice it to say, working with Lacie on her charities and giving to causes when I wasn’t tinkering away in my lab had garnered me a nice bit of good will.

Soaring through the sky at thirty-thousand in the back of a NATO military C-10, flying for more than seventeen hours, I reflected on all the preparations I had set into motion. A beeping informed me of an incoming transmission from my little ‘Ace in the hole’, transmitted over an ultra-secure channel through the nanotransmitter I’d equipped her with. Reading the message, it confirmed the text I’d received just moments ago from Parker. I sighed, considering my options, debating on whether I needed to alter the plan in any way to compensate. But, no...my strategy seemed sound enough. I’d taken every precaution and planned for every eventuality, including the one I’d just been informed of. I’d even brought a few special items along with me to work on to pass the time, and had actually completed both of them.

There simply comes a time when the planning is done, and decisive action is called for. As the pilot signaled me with a warning light, I realized that time was now. Making my way to the back of the plane, I stared out into the morning sky over Cyprus, and at the beautiful Greek coastline. And as the light flashed green, I jumped, leaping out of the transport, a perfect HALO jump, heading down, down, towards my fate.

“SIR!”

A nameless drone dressed in the military garb of Duncan’s personal guard entered the office. MacDonald glanced up, irritation showing on his face. “Yes, yes, what is it?”

“Sir, I need to report an intermittent signal traversing our airspace moments ago,” the man reported nervously. “It was faint, and only there for a moment, but it was definitely a signal.”

“Wait a second,” MacDonald replied, scowling deeper. “Do you mean to tell me you’ve come down here to bother me about a weak intermittent signal that was there for a second, then gone again, something that you can’t track or even confirm...something that, for all you know, might be a computer glitch?” He rose to his feet then, glaring at the poor man, who merely cowered in place. “And what do you expect me to do about it? I suppose you want me to go and interrupt Dr. Frasier in the middle of his experiment to inform him that his brother MIGHT be here, or might not, we don’t know for sure? Is THAT what you’re suggesting I do?”

“Um,..I...sir, I was...just told to notify you...um, if we had ANY readings—”

“Then let me clarify things for you,” MacDonald growled, grabbing the man by his collar. “Report back to me when you have something DEFINITE to report. Unless, of course, you’d like to enter the Master’s lab yourself to deliver your current message to him?”

The pale man went even paler at that suggestion. “Ah, um, no, S-sir! Thank you, Sir!” he replied, snapping a sharp salute, and backing quickly away, out the door. MacDonald allowed himself a small smile before returning back to his work.

Flying in at mach three, about fifty feet above the edge of the water, I was coming in hot and heavy. I’d deployed thrusters at the last possible second, breaking my fall, and launching me towards the shore like a cannonball. Satellite surveillance feeds were giving me real-time info on Duncan’s defenses, a hodgepodge of systems obtained from Braxton, GrimTech, and Draupnir Industries...but nothing of mine. Huh. Smart move, since I memorized the override codes for every high tech weapon I’ve ever developed. Guess I won’t be simply waltzing in to this battle. Activating my automatic targeting system, I activated my suit’s iPod function and began playing Sinatra’s Somewhere Beyond the Sea as my helmet’s heads-up display lit up like a Christmas tree. Firing off a barrage of micro Stinger missiles, I noted idly the speeds at which each system managed to lock in on me before they were destroyed.

Hmmm...so far Draupnir is leading the pack with a point zero zero two one second response time, with Nigel’s company’s systems lagging with a distant point zero zero five two seconds, and Braxton pulling up the rear with point zero one seven three seconds, Not a lot of time, merely an eye blink in the grand scheme of things, but in computer processing time, it was like comparing a snail, a turtle, and a rabbit. Luckily, my armor’s systems gave ME the relative speed of a cheetah.

Weaving my way effortless through a barrage of high caliber gunfire, cannons, pulse weapons, and missile attacks, I turned up the music, singing along as I systematically eliminated every turret, gun, launcher, and platform within range.

“Somewhere...beyond the sea...somewhere, waiting for me...”

“My lover stands...on golden sands...”

“And watches the ships...that go sailing...”

I smiled slightly as I swept past the ruined wrecks of Duncan’s automated security, officially encroaching on his territory. This part was child’s play, but I wasn’t fooled. THIS wasn’t even the opening volley. This was merely the warm up, a way for him to gauge my new armor’s specifications without risking anything more than a few automated drones. Verra well. You learned from that encounter virtually nothing you dinnae already ken. If ye want a look at what this new X-O variant armor can do, ye’re gonna have to come forward and see up close and personal. Passing through the final outer barrier, I lifted off, heading inland.

“Sir, we have confirmation,” MacDonald stated, stepping into Duncan’s lab once more. He glanced around, slightly concerned that his Master had not immediately rushed over at his intrusion, or at least made some sort of comment. The dried remains of the first and only man to enter Duncan’s private sanctum unbidden still remained on the floor near where the doctor currently stood. “It’s...your brother,” MacDonald continued, stepping further into the room, glancing around towards the main computer console. “He’s reached the outer barrier, and is attacking the automated defenses.”

“Obliterating them, you mean,” Duncan replied from far across the room, at his storage vault. He stood there, staring intently at two small glass enclosed vials of fluid. “My brother is a fool, and a moron,” he continued after a moment, “but he does know his technology. I was under no illusions that those paltry few defenses would even slow him down let alone serve an a deterrent. Their sole purpose was to serve as an early warning system, to tell me when Eugene had begun his assault.” He frowned. I had half assumed he would choose stealth over a direct approach. Perhaps I’ve given him more credit than he deserves after all.

Joining his Master at the vault, MacDonald glanced over at what occupied Duncan’s attention. “Wondering what I have here?” Duncan asked without prompting. “What I hold here in my hand is both a key and a lock, an answer and a riddle. What I have here, dear Doctor, is nothing short of ultimate power.”

“Is that it, then?” MacDonald asked, peering at the vials in his hands. “Omega Girl’s DNA?”

“Omega Girl?” Duncan laughed, shaking his head. “No, no...her genetic code is truly superior to all others, yes...but what I hold here is the essence of TRUE power. These are the genetic samples obtained from her offspring, my niece and nephew.” He sighed softly. “It is the very nature of biology after all...the point of progeny is to improve upon the genetic code of the progenitors—for the offspring to become better than the parents that birthed them. Neither child has reached his or her peak yet...it’s doubtful that anyone, even they themselves, are aware of the sheer scope of the power they both truly possess!”

“Both?” Duncan said with a frown. “Not to disparage you, Sir...I mean. the boy IS rather formidable, of course, being nearly as strong and resilient as his mother. But the girl? She’s barely a Rank C is power, certainly a far cry from Omega Girl—”

“And that is why I am in charge of this project, and you are a lowly incompetent lackey,” Duncan stated with a shake of his head. “You see only the obvious, what’s on the surface. No...this girl’s true power lies in what she foolishly refers to as her ‘good luck’. You’re a scientist, MacDonald. You should know that there is no such thing as luck or random chance! There IS, however...probability, and the ability to influence it.“

MacDonald nodded, allowing that to sink in. “I see. I suppose that does change things, then. And will you be infusing their genetic sequences as well?”

“Alas, no,” he said with an edge, closing the vault door, turning away from it. “The means to incorporate their unique genetic signatures currently...elude me. Not even the stabilizing effect of Wyldcard’s DNA is enough to allow me to bond their codes to my own. It will take more time, more research to unlock the secrets of they possess...but I am confident that I can solve this little puzzle. All I need is time.”

“Speaking of time,” MacDonald began, following his Master back towards the main computer console, “Your brother is on his way here now. We should raise the compound’s defense systems immediately, and prepare to face him—”

“Relax, Doctor,” Duncan stated calmly, scrolling through the various diagrams and biological sample results stored. “Steps have already been taken. This country’s President is my loyal servant, and even now, his forces are mobilized and heading out to meet my dear brother.” He laughed evilly. “You said he ripped through our automated defenses like paper? Let us see how well he fares with live targets in his crosshairs!”

Oh shite.

Well, I did expect that my brother would eventually start throwing live bodies at me to make me flinch. I did not, however, expect him to send the entire Cypriot Air National Guard! As my long range sensors locked on to the several thousand aircraft, and land-based targets coming into view, I paused to consider my options. On the one hand, they were merely doing their job and following their orders. I was, for all intents and purposes, an enemy invader, crossing their border and attacking one of their citizens. It was hard to blame them or find fault with them for fulfilling their duty.

On the other hand, they stood between me and Duncan. They were approaching me with hostile intent, their only goal to prevent me from making it past their defenses. And while I intended to do everything in my power to prevent unnecessary bloodshed and loss of life, they were under no such restraints. My display turned red, signaling a missile launch, and just like that, the second round of combat has begun.

Locking on with a high energy photonic discharge, I destroyed the missile in-flight, then turned, firing and incinerating a second and third projectile as I decreased the distance between me and the advancing army. At my query, my suit’s Ai informed me that the complete armament of the air force overshot my own by slightly less than a hundred. Meaning, that I would run out of missiles, projectiles, and power for my blasters before I’d destroyed all the weapons they were capable of launching at me. Which meant I needed to be a bit more creative.

Nearing the front lines, coming into visual range of the first wave of aircraft, I began transmitting on a wide band microwave frequency, as I deactivated my suit’s automatic defensive countermeasures. As I’d hoped, every craft fired their missiles, locking in on my position as I neared. My scanner however, caught each tracker signal as it locked in, and with a little reprogramming magic, reversed the missiles guidance system, sending them back the aircraft that launched them as their targets. I could almost imagine the looks on the pilots’ faces as the weapons they’d fired came back full circle. But no...there was too much going on, and too many enemies about to become complacent. I still had work to do.

“Arrrnnnghhh!” I cried aloud as sharp impact struck my left shoulder, nearly knocking me out of the air. High caliber machine gun fire. Low tech projectiles, but effective nonetheless, with my defensive countermeasures turned off. Locking into the source, I turned, heading towards the guns, not away. Multiple guns locked into me, and my Ai screamed continuous recommendations for me to ‘do a barrel roll’ as if I were some animated video game vulpine piloting a space ship! Reaching the bunker housing the guns, I fought low tech with low tech, launching several of what a developer in my former weapons division call ‘goo packs’. Machinery and soldier alike were frozen in place as the packs exploding, filling the entire area with thick viscous green fluid with the consistency of hot tar.

After that...things became less fun. The Air Force, having a better feel for who and what they were facing now, began changing up their tactics, foregoing the more accurate more advanced targeting systems and simply filling the air with so many missiles, laser blasts, and bullets that it was simply impossible to dodge them all. And while the blasts of their 50 MM cannon shells couldn’t even begin to scratch my armor, each hard impact took its toll on the flesh and blood person being housed inside. Add in the fact that I am old, and physically speaking, more fragile than I once was, and this battle of attrition was beginning to wear on me. I needed some kind of plan to eliminate as many of the threats as possible...

At which point, my entire plan and strategy went completely out the window as my suit’s AI began screaming at me once more, showing a lock on from a distant source far beyond my range. I’d just began to question what THAT meant when the ground beneath me began to shudder slightly growing brighter and brighter. Realizing the source of the target lock, I reactivated my defensive countermeasures and had just enough time to activate my strongest electromagnetically enforced energy shields before an immensely powerful blast of light and heat slammed into me from above.

Satellite weapon? Huh. I guess this would qualify as Duncan bringing out the ‘big guns’. But...Shite...he just took out about a third of his own military forces with this blast! All the people I managed to save...all the troops disabled but not killed were still in the blast radius! Damn you Duncan...you bloody murdering bastard!

Planted into the ground by the worst of the blast, the rock and stone beginning to melt around my boots, I had maybe seconds left before my systems overheated from the onslaught and cooked me inside the suit like a slab of meat in a microwave. I tried pumping an override signal up at the satellite, to turn it off, to change the target, to do something—but the software protections were being particularly difficult, and hacking them would take more time than I had.

Options...need options here...have to stop that blasted satellite from firing...ugh...

And then, trying to tune into the floating weapon of death, the answer presented itself. I almost laughed as a simple sensor sweep locked in on its ancient control frequency and took over, maneuvering it into position. Seconds later, a bright light lit up the skies, and the energy beam pouring down on me dissipated, leaving me singed, scorched, but otherwise okay.

Sarah, guess I owe you one, I thought wearily as my suit’s thermal exhaust ports continued to cycle, releasing all of the built up excess heat. Or your evil twin, anyway. If the Domina Argenti hadn’t left that floating hunk of junk, her platform array, floating up there after she abandoned her Argentum Project, I’d literally be toast right about now. System diagnostics check showed my power at fifty-seven percent after that last attack, and the remaining enemy forces were regrouping, preparing to make another strike.

Satellites. Huh. Maybe I can make use of that somehow. Verra well. No more playing around. Time to end this here and now.

Taking to the sky once more, I began diverting all non-vital system energy into my main cannon, re-established the safety protocols, and took aim for the center of the advancing force. Ach...this will drain my suit’s power reserves by another thirty percent...makes me wish I’d done this at the beginning of the battle. Well, hindsight is always twenty-twenty... Reaching the power threshold I needed, girding up my loins, I took aim and fired with my most powerful weapon. My Omega Cannon.

A much bigger blast than the miniature bomb I’d used at MacDonald’s research facility, or the prototype I’d given to Grimalde, my cannon fired a focused, compressed wave of Omega Beam particles into their midst, sweeping through, disabling man and machine alike. As the entirety of the Cypriot Air Force contained no high altitude fixed wing craft, I had no qualms about letting their helicopters descend and crash safely down the few hundred feet above ground that the hovered. A quick scan confirmed it: several thousand life signs, banged up, bruised, bleeding, but no serious wounds or fatalities.

All things considered, they’re a lot better off than I am, I thought drily, feeling sweat running down the side of my face. Might need to take a moment to assess my own injuries. I doubt anything’s broken, but I’ve definitely taken my share of damage. Dropping back down to earth for a moment to catch my breath, my AI system informed me that I was receiving an incoming communiqué from the compound ahead of me. Ah, well, it’s one of two people. The former wouldn’t be calling me this way, and the latter shouldn’t be. Connecting to the call, I grimaced as the face of my older brother filled my view.

“Congratulations, little brother,” he said, clapping softly. “You managed to survive the gauntlet and make it to my front door. Impressive. I’ve always maintained that our bloodline ran a bit thin in your case, but it seems you proved me wrong. How are you faring, brother? You seem to be a bit...fatigued. I thought my little ‘surprise from the skies’ would have been a bit too much for you.”

“Aye, a bit...brother,” I spat back at him. “But have no fear, I have more than enough fight left in me to kick yer sorry arse. Why don’t you come out now and greet me, and get this over with?“

“Ah, yes,” he said, chuckling drily. “My dear brother. So eager, so impetuous. Not like the cautious, careful, introverted little man I used to know at all! It’s actually...refreshing. But perhaps you should have kept a bit of your old personality intact for facing me. Caution is the key word here, brother. You’ve done well even to track me down to this location...better still, to actually make it to my door. But you are still not quite ready to face me.”

“Oh?” I said archly, a small smirk curving my lips. “I’m not ready? Or perhaps it’s YOU that is not quite ready to face me? Did I arrive sooner than expected, Duncan? Upset your carefully crafted timetable?” To my joy, I saw him scowl in response, noting that my verbal jab had scored a hit. “At any rate, I’m more than ready for anything ye have to throw at me.”

“Do tell,” Duncan replied ominously, eyes hooded. “Verra well, then. Let’s test that little theory shall me?” Across the way, the main doors to the compound opened, and a blonde haired woman wearing little more than a small black leotard stepped out, walking towards me. My smirk faded away into confusion, then horror as she drew close enough for me to recognize her features. I even ran a bioscan to confirm what my eyes were telling me. Facial features, bone structure, height, weight, and DNA were all a perfect match.

“Omega Girl?” I asked, stunned. “What are you doing here?”