City of Heroes

Birth of the Brotherhood

Disclaimer: I don't own City of Heroes. Though I do own a few of the characters in this fic.

Author's Note: I'm accepting ideas for heroes as long as they're along the City of Heroes lines. Just give me their real name, hero name, primary and secondary powers.. height.. and the way they act in general.

New Age: 1 of 4

Paragon City, a massive urban settlement that had seen thousands of amazing sights in it's time. Though on this day the city was in complete turmoil. In Atlas Park all hell was breaking loose as a car went soaring by overhead, tossed as lightly as a shoe would have been. A collosal robot, humanoid in shape save for the wrecking ball for a left hand and standing twelve feet tall, watched carefully as it's target flew back in to deliver another series of punches that would normally rock a building to it's foundations. Against this mechanical enemy however, even Statesman was starting to get pushed to his limits.

This machination was made specifically to stand up against his raw strength, and was doing so well beyond it's maker's expectations. Statesman was among the strongest of Paragon City's heroes and right now the near legendary man's uniform was tattered, smeared with his own blood. It was looking very grim. What had been a routine patrol day turned into a full scale battle with this.. thing.

At the center of it's torso there must have been a containment unit, for the team Statesman had arrived with, composed of himself, Ms. Liberty, and The Patriot had been diminished down to only himself as it had devoured his team mates.

Just as Statesman had gotten within range the robot suddenly displayed a lightning fast speed as it brought it's wreckingball hand down onto the hero, slamming him into the street with earth shattering authority. Though it didn't actually hurt, the attack had sapped more stamina from Statesman as he struggled to get up. He couldn't fail against this machine monster, for this wasn't just a sudden attack that was picked out of the proverbial hat. Over the course of the last two months all of Paragon's strongest heroes had mysteriously turned up missing. Statesman and the others of the Surviving Eight had plenty of warning.

However these near epic heroes, mortal gods among their fellows had fallen to that time old human flaw. They had believed themselves to be above being defeated by this unseen force that was methodically moving it's way through Paragon's heroes. So their guard had been all but non-existant from such a powerful enemy such as this robot, which was called the Razaar. Who built it was still up in the air, but it's intentions were clear.

Statesman got to his feet, just in time to thrust his hands upward to bring another overhead smash from the thing's weapon hand to a screeching halt. The resulting impact still sent Statesman's feet an inch into the crumbled ground and he strained to keep the ball from completing it's downward journey. He clenched his teeth, stifling a whispered curse as with even his strength the wreckingball wa slowly but surely making his arms give in. With a yell he summoned up a burst of strength and suceeded in throwing the Razaar's arm back before rocketing upward to delivering a powerful haymaker that caused the robot to take two staggering steps back.

Statesman landed on his knees, gulping air as much as his lungs would allow. The Razaar came forward again and made to attack again with it's wreckingball. He knew there was nothing he could do. Statesman had nothing left in his stamina reserves. So he just closed his eyes and clenched his fists.

The defeat of Paragon's most recognized hero team, The Surviving Eight, lead by Statesman was all over the news. People were panicking, the heroes that had been left over from the Razaar's path of destruction were strong, but certainly not a match for any of the city's most powerful villians. Yet, it appeared that none of these afore mentioned arch-villians had a hand in the fall of Statesman and appeared to be reluctant to make the move to take over Paragon City. For who knew, the mastermind behind the monstrously powerful robot could just send the Razaar after them next.

However this was the perfect opportunity for the city's less supernatural crime syndicates such as the Hellions or the Skulls to take more territory. This of course did not improve their relationships with one another as each gang found territories they wanted, but the other arrived to take it for themselves just to not let the first have it.

It was on one such occasion three weeks after the fall of the Surviving Eight that another turf war was going in full swing. The alley was alight with gunfire as eight Skulls reigned metal slugs against the Hellion's van. Two Hellions were laying on the ground, whether they were dead or dying was impossible to tell right now as their bretheren returned fire from around the vehicle. The Hellions only had seven in number from their original nine now as the two on the ground had been hit by a Skulls sniper somewhere on the rooftops above.

Suddenly a crackle of electricity went through the air above one roof and a Skulls member with a sniper rifle was thrown clear, landing with a crash on top of the Skulls gang car. The sniper groaned as he fell into unconsciousness, prompting gang members on both sides to come to a dead halt as they looked up to see what had done it.

"Wow.. my first day in town and I get to make an impression!" There standing on the ledge was a man in a purple full bodysuit that covered his entire body with silver bracers and a silver mirrored helm that curved down into a dull point. On his chest there was a black 'T' that stretched from shoulder to shoulder and stopped at his waist.

The rival gangs looked warily at one another for a moment, then as if an unspoken agreement was reached all guns pointed upwards.

"YIPE!" The mystery hero exclaimed as he dove back onto the roof for cover as a storm of gunfire fragmented the ledge. Soon as he was clear however, he stood up and shook his head. "Alright.. that didn't work.. guess I either need a more intimidating suit or should have just gone in guns ablazing.." A pregnant pause as he thought, then reached a decision. "Damn you poverty!" He said before turning around and dashing for the edge of the roof and leaping off.

His move suprised the thugs. What really did the trick was when the bracers on his fore arms suddenly extended a swept forward wing, crafted to perfectly look as if it had metallic feathers. Electricity sparked around the wings and the hero came to a halt in the air, just before he raised his hands above his head.. and soon an orb of electricity was forming and growing as power surged into it. Then with a yell he threw it down dead center between the two vehicles.

A massive explosion let loose, stunning both sets of gang members just from the concussive blast alone as that specialized attack was meant to. After all, he'd been practicing for a week straight to get the energy just right for a stunner attack.

The hero landed, wings sparking against the pavement and making him wince as he reminded himself to watch his landings from then on. As he stood, sirens were heard coming closer. Several police cars came into view, screeching to a halt upon seeing the reported gunfight had come to an abrupt end. Officers got out, reaching for their handcuffs and hurrying to restrain the gangsters while they were still stunned. One or two cast a wary gaze at the purple clad hero, but otherwise ignored him. All except for one officer that is.

Captain Mark Johnson, a man in his early forties who held a bit of a stomach, approached the hero. His eyes held a curious glint in them while he stopped at a respectable distance and cleared his throat, making sure the hero was listening. With that mirrored helm it was difficult to tell. "I'm assuming you're the one that knocked these punks out. Well, thanks on behalf of my department."

The hero, apparently looked over in Mark's direction and nodded. "Not a problem. Just doing the heroic thing and all.." He said with just a bit of showmanship.

Johnson winced inwardly. He could tell this was a new hero to the Paragon City scene and he didn't sound all that old to begin with. "Now before you... whatever it is you do to travel.. can I ask who you are kid?"

For a moment the hero seemed a little offended at being referred to as a kid but let it go with a careless shrug. "The name's Tempest. When I heard what happened here to the Surviving Eight I knew the city was going to need all the help it could get.."

The cheif nodded and relaxed a bit. At least the kid's intentions were good, and any help to keep the streets clean in the aftermath was greatly appreciated. "Alright. Good luck and be careful out there Tempest."

With a nod the newest addition to Paragon City's list of heroes flew off into the sky, electricity faintly trailing after him. Paragon City may have been in dire straits, but Mark Johnson knew that one hero might just make all the difference in the world.

To Be Continued in New Age: 2 of 4