In the infirmary, the patients were becoming restless. "Look, we'll stay close by, I swear. But we are going outside."
Red Beth was waiting for Dr. Science to respond, but when she looked around, she saw he was busy with the radio. Oh, well… "You can't go out there," she said. "I know you can all take care of yourselves, but these aren't some adoscolent saboteurs, or some of Nemesis' clockwork goons; these are supervillains. You could be killed!"
The patients looked amused about something. "Missy," said Gravedigger, "'Ave you ever seen friends die, just feet away from you, riddled with bullets?" Waiting for her response, he stood there, while behind him, the patients began picking up clothes and sorting out personal effects. When she said nothing, he continued, "Because we 'ave. Mostly," he said, darkly, with a sidelong glance at Zeitgeist. "But all of us are used to risking our lives anyway. I think we can 'andle these thugs. And if we do go, who exactly is going to try and stop us? You?"
"No. Us." Beth looked over her shoulder, and saw Mel standing in the doorway, with his arms folded, and Rodge standing beside him, sword hefted. Mel was an amateur boxer, so his forearms were impressive, especially in his yeti-form. It looked like the patients would back down, when suddenly, Joe yelled, "Incoming!" and ran away from the window. There was a crash, and when the dust settled, they saw that the hole in the wall had become larger. And crawling from the wreckage was the Praetorian known as Hadrian. He picked himself up, and was about to go back to the fight, when the Huntsman said, "Regardless of how you feel, laddie, we are still going. Now step aside." At that, he swung around to face them, and he said, "Why can't they leave?"
"Orders," said Mel, with as stern a face as he could muster when faced with a man who outweighed him by a ton.
"Ahhh," said Hadrian, with an evil little grin. "Well now, ladies and gentlemen, if you cannot leave freely, I can certainly take you away as hostages." As he moved forward, he walked into Mel's arm. "I said, they're going nowhere."
"Stand aside, whelp."
"No dice."
And then the fight began. Mel knew he was the only Remedial who stood a chance against Hadrian: Hadrian was almost as tall as Mel, with skin of rock. Mel knew he was the alternate universe double of a man called 'Stonewall' Jackson, who'd died during the Rikti War, defending Freedom Mansion from being demolished by aliens, and incidentally saving the refugees who'd taken shelter there. But Stonewall had been a boxer, while this guy showed no signs of that.
But Mel was still outclassed. After he'd thrown a couple of punches, he caught a knee to the chest. He went down, and he didn't get up. As he went down he reverted from yeti-form.
"Now," said Hadrian, turning to face the patients, "you will come with me."
Beth, Joe, and Rodge all feared the worst, but then Gravedigger said, "So what? We were gonna beat him anyway. And don't try that staring-contest malarkey on us, mate," he said, as Hadrian glared at him, "You're not facin' uppity kids or jack-dandies here; you're facin' professionals. You're facin' Senex Abiecta."
Hadrian laughed. "Well, you are certainly old," he said, looking at Mortarman, "and you are certainly contemptible. Now, you are coming with me. Or do I have to fight you?"
"Yes."
In his defence, Hadrian was a veteran. But he was a veteran of a specialised kind of war, one that pitted man against man, with fists or miscellaneous abilities, on the ground or in the sky. The patients, on the other hand, had heard nothing of this style of fighting. They had grown up long before it's inception. They were veterans of another kind of war, one that revolved around when it was acceptable to fight fair – that is, in fair circumstances – and when not to. This, to them, was one of those times.
Barraged by fists, explosions, blasts, and shovel-blows, Hadrian stayed off-balance long enough for Sergeant Wade to find his service revolver, and shoot him in the eye. He went down, howling and cupping his face.
Rodge was the first to speak. "That wasn't fair," he said. He knew it was a stupid thing to say, but he said it anyway.
Le Fantome turned to face them. "Fair, as in a circumstance where a group of ordinary people are pitted against a stone giant? Now, allons. Before he comes to."
When they got to the hole, Olympienne went first, carrying Lord Winter and Mel. She caught all the people who came out the hole after her. They made it to the edge of the square, mostly because the Praetorians thought they were ordinary citizens, and the Phalanxers were all too busy to notice. But at the edge of the square, the wall of the infirmary exploded, and out ran Hadrian. There was anger in his scream, and pain, and revenge. This drew the attention of most of the square, and Beth gave a little moan, as if she couldn't believe their bad luck. As she pointed at a figure reaching the apex of a flight-path, she said, "That's Roma. I saw her on the news. She's preparing for her finishing move, what she calls the Pax Romana."
This drew chuckles from the patients. "'If you fight, we will destroy you.' I like it, I like it," said Lord Winter. He slipped from Olympienne's grasp, and stood there, flexing his fingers, while looking from Roma to Hadrian, as if he was calculating something.
Mortarman was the first to work it out, whatever it was. "No, Paul," the finality in his voice palpable. "Between the 'flu, and whatever Zeitgeist did to you, you're not strong enough to do it.
But Winter would not be moved. "You've got to let me stand on my own feet, Henry." He gazed back at the two approaching foes. "Get going, all of you; I'll hold them off."
As the group walked off, Winter called on the deep calm he needed. Then he intoned the weather spells he'd learned all those years ago, in the backwaters of the Ottoman Empire. He set up a wind-trap and hoped for the best.
It worked. Half a mile above the ground, travelling at ten metres per second per second, Roma suddenly discovered that she could no longer steer. She was suddenly turned ninety degrees, directly into the path of the oncoming Hadrian. She crashed into him, and they both went flying. Now both of them were caught in the wind-trap, and they were bearing down on Diocletian. The horror on Diocletian's face was evident as he created a wall to catch his two friends. But Winter had seen this trick before: he concentrated on the water vapour and the dust in the air. The water vapour coalesced around the dust, and suddenly hailstones the size of eggs were smashing into Diocletian's wall. The wall took a heavy pounding, and it dissolved when Hadrian and Roma hit it. Now the three of them were caught in the wind-trap, but now the only thing that could break their fall was the statue of Andromedon.
As the three of them cannoned into it, screaming, Winter collapsed. Now he could rest. Now he – and then a man stood over him blocking out the sun. It was the wizard that had so frightened the people in the infirmary.
"I would curse you, Paul Alban Winter, were you not so cursed already. Poxed by the flu. Asked to serve your country, and where your brother went off to war, became a hero, you became a spy, and a –what did your father call you? A warlock? Now look at you. Cut of from your peers, in this dystopia. They wouldn't even let you leave the hospital. I do not hate you, Paul Alban Winter. So I shall not curse you. In fact, I give you my blessing," he said as he raised his hand, and began to intone what Winter recognised as a death spell. Winter fumbled round his neck, looking for a particular chain. This earned him a laugh from Asmodeus. "Your trinkets shall avail you naught, child. I have moved beyond such frippery."
But Winter was not reaching for a trinket. As Asmodeus continued his spell, Winter's fingers closed on the penknife that hung around his neck. He pulled it out, flicked the blade open, and drove it into Asmodeus' ankle. The spell broke off in a scream, as Asmodeus fell over. As further foes came over, Winter closed his eyes, and prepared to meet his maker.
Suddenly, he found himself surrounded by warm light. As he rose through the air, he became aware of winged figure in a robe, flying towards him. He smiled, and raised his arms to greet the angel.
"Now, unholy ones, face the wrath of the living God!" Winter watched, bewildered, as the angel flew past him, and began beating up the thugs. Coming in fast behind him, Winter saw a mechanical giant, two men in outlandish apparel, and a woman in a multicoloured raincoat.
The proximity sensors alerted Iron Eagle. He cheered up, as he saw Abijah flying into the square, followed by Bumblebee, Flare, Badger, and Borealis. Meanwhile, coming from the other side was Firewing, Magenta, Appotomax, Sahel, and Iridium.
Faced with these new foes, and with the loss of their four most powerful members, the Praetorians began falling back. They started to retreat back through the hole, making the Phalanxers pay for the ground. Still, they took injuries, and they couldn't save all their members.