[[This work is based in the setting of the online Massive Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game Champions Online. All characters and (most) locations are fictional. Similarities in real-life names, abilities, locales, organizations, vague references, etc. are entirely coincidental. Or intended. Special thanks goes to fellow role-player and author modus669 for special endorsement on this piece of work.]]

PROLOGUE.

The sky in the quiet neighborhood was calm, with few, barely visible clouds rolling through the vast, open air high above the earth. It was dusk, the warm life-giving sun already having set to bring a new day to the other side of the planet. Around the block of the neighborhood in a town in the middle of the area known as Central Texas, there stood a church on the side of a road not unlike any other in many parts of the United States. The area was low-income, if those who visit would guess via the various states of condition each of the houses were. The church, which sat in its lot, surrounded by empty fields which used to have houses flanking each side of the modest building of worship, stood tall amid the test of time with its basic white wood paneling, sloping rooftop with a small steeple at the end of the front of the building, rising up into a sculpture of a cross. It was January 31, 1983.

The pastor, Peter Cosgrove, a Baptist preacher, sat in his workroom: a worn dusty office sparsely decorated in cheap religious memorabilia, save for a small library of books of various subjects about the Christian religion and similar such words of wisdom. The middle-aged man reclined back in his cushioned chair, his mind seemingly elsewhere instead of the task of managing bills ahead of him lay scatted on his desk. A small radio adorns the corner of his desk, the station blaring out the news for the evening in the local area of the town. The weatherman on the radio then pops up, taking the time to introduce himself and reaffirm the forecast for the evening: Clear skies and light winds into the morning, with high temperatures going no more than seventy-five degrees.

The Pastor (known as Pastor Peter to his congregation) nods in approval at what he hears. Monday was uneventful, especially after the heated sermons on family and stability the day before. The African-American man's eyes close for a bit, relaxing in the chair that stood the test of time and various bodies that have sat and relaxed in it before (it was quite old). His thoughts were serene, thinking about the simple pleasures of what the next day might bring. The radio station switches to playing a quiet tune while the pastor slowly starts to drift to sleep.

The outside had other plans, with a loud clap of thunder shattering the peace in the church and Peter's office. The pastor is startled awake by that noise, gathering his thoughts as he looks around him. That could not have been thunder that he heard just now, could it? The weatherman on both the television and radio said it would be clear tonight-

POW!

Peter frowns, his war-weary face wrinkling. That second thunder clap was louder than the first, and sounded quite close. Quickly, he gathered himself, grabbing his trusted crutches he had leaned against his old desk before straining himself up out of the chair. He silently cursed to himself when Peter at first did not get a good grip, before correcting himself and stands himself up on his good leg. The other leg was not helping very much, due to being absent at above the knee. There are some things that during the war in Vietnam that the battlefield likes to take as a souvenir. He was one of the lucky ones, however, that the battlefield only took his leg. The pastor was due for a prosthetic in the next year or so, but with the Army health services being the way they are, there was no telling. Still, Peter was tough, as he deftly hobbled out of the office and into the main area of the church.

He looks over to the left and right out of the ornate glass-stained windows as another few large claps of thunder are heard, loud and clear. The lightning accompanied the noise, illuminating the outside in brief, white-hot moments, giving the dimmed interior of the church a haunted feel with the flashes of light going through the windows. Pater hobbled across the open walkway alongside the pews. Another few claps of thunder and more lightning flash through the sky. Not even a few seconds after that last violent outburst from the heavens does it seem like God himself turned on the water faucet in full force, the rain coming down fast and hard, angrily pelting the roof of the church and making it hard to even think with all the noise. Peter goes into the tiny lobby, laying eyes outside of the glass double-doors.

"Oh heavens to mercy it is coming down," Peter speaks to himself as he watches the torrents of rain come down in a blinding fury. "I can't even see more than halfway down the street."

"Of course not, the weatherman lied! You can't predict what God's going to do!" A heavyset African-American woman stands near the doorway that leads to the kitchen, towel in hand, watching her husband and the outside. "Dear Lord almighty, just look at all of that rain coming down outside."

"Ruby," Peter starts, going toward the woman he married two years before. "Were the car windows rolled-up before all of this started? Would hate to have to clean up the mess again like last time when it was really bad outside."

Ruby frowns and shrugs before heading back to the kitchen: "Maybe not the back window. I don't remember right now, I'm trying to clean up for the potluck that's coming up in the next couple of days. You know where that one bowl was at? That large one with the metal-"

Peter nods and waves her off. Ruby's a sweet woman, though a little bit on-edge at times. "Yeah, it should be in the cupboard near the sink. Underneath it, I think." He scoots himself into the kitchen, moving quite fast on the crutches. The thunder and lightning storm pound relentlessly over the church and neighborhood as yet another, this time even louder, clap of thunder echo, causing the lights within the church building to flicker.

"Whoa!" Ruby exclaims as she drops the object she was looking for. The metallic bowl clatters on the ground with a piercing metallic impact. Peter scoots himself toward his wife, setting one of his crutches aside to lean down, quite impressive of him, to help out.

"Hey, I got this."

"Shoot, we need to get out of here, don't we?"

Peter shakes his head: "Not in terrible storm like this! We'll need to wait it out until it's safe to go outside. Don't want to get struck by lightning out here." Peter winces once as he blinks slowly, raising up and picking up his other crutch to hobble out of the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" Ruby calls out as Peter hobble-dashes back into the main area, through the pews.

"I'll need to check the radio! Maybe something on there is talking about this freak storm! Could be a tornado, for all we know."

"Oh, Lord, please keep us safe!"

Peter makes it to his office, and quickly looks over at his radio, just as another huge clap of thunder and a bright flash of lightning cause the lights to blink out for a moment. After a moment, everything returns on, though the radio was now off. Peter sniffs once as he examines the old device, pulling back slowly and shaking his head as the smell of burnt circuitry entered his nostrils.

"Just great," he mutters to himself. "We may have to huddle up until it passes over."

Even as the pastor mentions this, the weather only increases in ferocity as the winds howl uncontrollably through the air, creating a sense of dread in Peter. Perhaps this was an impending tornado? He would have thought this to himself as he rummages through his desk, grabbing a flashlight. Deciding to go on a single crutch, he hobbles back out into the main area of the church again past the set of pews nearest the pulpit, until the lights go out once again.

"Just what we need, indeed. Thank you, Lord for this flashlight," the pastor chuckles to himself as he turns it on, illuminating the pathway before him. The lightning continues to flash outside in an angry manner, in synch with the explosive claps of thunder that shake the walls and windows of the simple construction of the building. Peter takes a few more hobbled steps, keeping quite steady, when he stops for a moment upon hearing an unusual sound amid the storm. Stopping in place, he quiets his breathing as he strains to listen. The loud thunder makes it very hard to notice, but there was a pounding sound on the glass doors. Not that of hail, but frantic-paced slaps against the glass.

"Ruby! You over there?" Peter calls out, shining the light near the lobby area as he makes his way closer to that part of the church.

"Yeah I'm here!" a voice is heard deeper in the kitchen.

"You alright? I thought I heard some kind of noise or something!"

Ruby's voice is a bit distant-sounding as she responds: "I can't hear much of anything with that loud racket of a storm going on! Shoot, the stupid lights went out, you got the flashlight?!"

"Just a second!" Peter calls out as another huge clap of thunder punctuates the comment, followed by another series of loud pounding noises against the glass doors. For a few breaths, there was silence, aside from the constant downpour of rain hitting the roof and the silent flashes of lightning. Peter goes forth, hobbling into the lobby and looking towards the doors. He raises his flashlight to shine through the double-doors, squinting through the reflected light off of the glass.

Peter's eyes widen as he catches glimpse to something on the other side of the doors. About a foot away from the doors, at the top of the steps and barely covered from the blinding rain making it way through the awning, was what looked to be a mass of blankets of varying dark colors, partially soaked in the rain. The pastor moves against the door, leaning against it, until another bright flash of lighting streaks across the sky, causing the man to squint his eyes, but his head looks toward the street and sees a car peeling away. The vehicle looked to be an old sedan, but it was too dark and the light was inconsistent for Peter to tell of any other markings or even the license plate. He looks further out into the sky, and gives a curious tilt of his head, both in awe and with a bit of fear in him, as he notices most of the lightning was concentrated in one far-off spot in the sky, the majority of the lightning bolts coming down to the center of that particular spot. Thunder explodes through the sky, startling the pastor, along with another peculiar sound coming from the blankets.

Stooping down as best he can with the doors partially open, Peter peers at the blankets and notices the sounds were coming from the blanket, as well as the sound of crying, that of a baby!

His eyes wide with complete shock, and taking one good glance at the violent weather happening around them, Peter wastes little time second-guessing himself as he deftly takes the bundled infant under his arm, grabbing the crutch and heads inside just as another crash of thunder is heard. The poor infant in his arms screams and wails in panic, the little arms stretching out of the blankets, begging for attention and safety. Peter says a few prayers to himself as he goes into the main area of the church, setting down on the soft cushion of the pew, holding the infant as best he can, a mixture of sweat and mist from the rain dotting his face. The baby cries in his arms, though gradually starts to quiet down now that child is out of the elements.

The lights come back on in the church, just as Ruby barges into the auditorium, glancing around until her eyes focus on her husband.

"Peter!" she calls out, stepping around to his side. "What on earth is…" Ruby's words trail off as she looks down at the baby, a newborn with light-brown skin, cries in Peter's arms, legs and arms up and outstretched as the pastor cradles the infant, rocking steadily side-to-side to calm the baby down.

"I… there was a pounding on the front door during the blackout," Peter starts to explain. "I ran up there and, right under that awning under the front door, was this little thing here. I saw a car drive off, but didn't get a good look at it or the driver. Was going mighty fast, I tell you. But this storm…"

"Never mind that!" Ruby snaps. "We need to call someone about this. And get that child out of those blankets, they're wet! I'll run to the kitchen and find some dry towels!"

Peter nods as his wife dashes into the kitchen. What are the odds of this happening to us? He thinks to himself as he quickly removes most of the blankets from the crying baby. As he unwraps the brown-skinned infant, Peter notices quickly that it's a girl. Two things immediately stood out as he got most of the blankets out of the way: She had a small fuzz of hair on her head, jet-black. Her ears had an odd point to them on the top, but nothing unusual. What was unusual were the eyes. Black people usually did not have bright eye color, but instead of anything under the normal human spectrum of eye-color was that this baby girl's eyes were a bright, vivid purple. This gave Peter a bit of a mild shock, but he settles himself down, until he glances lower near the baby's lower back, close to her bottom, where a two-inch nub of what looks to be a thin tail sways about, sharing the same skin-tone as the girl.

Ruby enters with a fresh set of towels intended for the baby, as she sees the still-seated pastor holding up the baby, now completely visible to her as well. The heavyset woman drops the towels, mouth wide as she sees that little tail from the baby. The infant girl gurgles a few times, making all manner of the usual baby noises, until a series of intense claps of thunder and bright, piercing flashes of lighting echo and reflect around inside of the church, causing the baby to react and scream and cry from the noise. The lights flicker on and off and settle for off, as Ruby goes right up against Peter, huddled near her husband and the baby as the storm roars in intensity, the wind, rain and thunder growing louder, hitting harder, as if threatening to blow over their structure. Peter does his best to hold the infant against him, patting her back and keeping his voice calm, doing his best to coo and calm the baby.

"Shh, don't worry, I have you. Nothing's going to get you in here. Oh Lord, please look after this child, please." Peter continues to pat the baby, being mindful of the small tail of the girl's. Ruby is just staring at the tail, though she looks around and both adults see from the outside windows that there's a bright light showing through. Ruby gets up and goes into the lobby, quite easy to see around due to the brightness of whatever is causing that lightshow.

"What do you see out there?" Peter calls from the pew. He proceeds to keep busy with trying to calm the scared and crying infant girl.

"That's… Peter! There's some large bolt of lightning way ahead over there!"

"What do you mean?"

Ruby's voice stammers a bit, as if she's trying to process what she sees, as she does her best to relate what is going on to Peter. "It's like, a huge, big giant bolt or something is going down a funnel! Like a tornado, but all of it is lightning!"

Peter's eyes widen as he turns his head towards the lobby area: "Say that again?" He cradles the baby as he gathers his crutch, and slowly hobbles towards the lobby to stand alongside Ruby, with the baby in tow, sobbing but no longer making as loud of a fuss.

The couple stare outside at the unnatural lightshow, a mass of lightning bolts swirling off in the distance and down in a bright column, looking as if from a trippy science-fiction show. The scene was quite surreal, though just as Peter and Ruby were making heads-or-tails of what they were looking at, one final gigantic clap of thunder that sounded closer to an explosion is heard, coming from that distance. Peter nearly stumbles, losing his crutch as Ruby takes up the slack, holding her husband up as well as holding the infant between them. Some of the glass in the church crack and break, as well as the thick glass of the entrance doors, though they do not shatter. The baby screams against the adults as the wind howls outside. But just as suddenly as the freak storm appeared, the wind ceases blowing. The rain slows to an immediate trickle and then stops entirely. The thunder and lightning cease all activity. Peter glances up through the cracked doors as he sees the dark clouds immediate break up and part, exposing the night sky to the earth again.

Both of the couple stood in place, dumbfounded at what just happened. The only thing that breaks the silence is the cries of the baby, her little tail moving about. Ruby then takes her turn in holding the baby while Peter regains himself to stand back up with his crutch. She goes back into the main area of the church to pick up the towels she dropped and sets about to wrap up the crying infant with them, doing her best to coo and calm the baby all the while. Peter hobbles beside her, looking over everything in the church and at his wife and the child.

"My God, my God..." is all Peter can say as he surveys some of the glass that broke and some of the pieces now on the carpet. He looks over Ruby, who also has an equally confused expression on her face, as she looks back at the cute baby, who now has stopped crying and looks to slowly be falling asleep. Peter finally smiles at the sight, before glancing down in the pew where he unwrapped the infant of her wet towels, and notices a strange, very ornate-looking bracelet rolled up in the heap.

"What's that?" Ruby asks, cradling the now semi-swaddled infant in her arms, looking at the object Peter picked up.

"No idea… I don't know what any of this is, to be, honestly," The pastor frowns, looking over the expensive-looking jewelry. "It just fell out of the blankets she was wrapped up in."

Peter and Ruby then look at the now-sleeping infant girl in Ruby's arms. Both of them stood in silence for quite a while, puzzled at the turn of events neither of them expected for the night, or for the rest of their lives.

The bracelet that Peter is holding onto starts to fade, losing most of it color as it becomes more muted, just as everything returns to what it was not thirty minutes ago: Quiet and serene.

The next day, news reports were feisty and actively talking about the storm from that night, causing a decent amount of property damage. The authorities were stumped as to the cause of the storm, as were the meteorologist. Even more confusing was the fact that in a field about a couple of miles from Peter's church were huge craters, a few of them smoldering. In the center of the general area was one pitch-black crater of scorched earth, seven-feet deep and dangerous for anyone to accidentally step into without slipping and falling in. Most peculiar was that, due to the freak events, out-of-state authorities, as well as strange, spandex-clad men and women, referred to as superheroes, combed the scene and around it, looking for clues as to what transpired. Finding no other evidence, the super-powered individuals went about their business elsewhere. This and the sudden interest of the government in that town sparked loads of speculation about what may have happened: Aliens? Mutants? Bad guys causing trouble? All manner of explanations were being tossed around, but nothing was concrete.

As for Peter and Ruby, the both of them took the infant girl to a nearby clinic, which whisked everyone away to a hospital to check on the child. Tests quickly confirm she is a meta-human, a human with extra-normal traits or characteristics. The couple debated on what to do, though don't get much in words or edge-wise when the state authorities stop by to talk with the couple, informed by the hospital of a new meta-human infant. Some back-and-forth happen, and after some screaming and tears, one of the important-looking men in the suits walk out of the hospital carrying the infant girl in store-bought baby basket, with a nametag attached to it, courtesy of a hard-fought Ruby and Peter: Laura Forrest.