Disclaimer: I don't own any of the League, Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson, or the villain; they all belong to their respective creators, and I'm just borrowing the characters for a bit

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The Adventure of the Seven Legends

Around half an hour later, Agent Sawyer was walking with Holmes and myself through the streets of London, one of Agent Sawyer's hands always hovering over his pistols under his long coat while I kept a tight grip on my stick. Holmes' only weaponry, however, was the simple weighted scarf that he had used while we hunted Jack the Ripper all those years ago; it was an undeniably effective means of fighting others in close quarters, but I doubted if it would be effective if we were heavily outnumbered.

Nevertheless, Agent Sawyer appeared quietly confident in his ability to neutralise any adversaries we may encounter before they could escape. When asked, he had merely smiled an enigmatic, almost sad smile, and informed me that he had received lessons in marksmanship from a man who had known a great deal about aiming and firing guns, and left it at that.

As we walked through the streets, however, I was more than slightly disappointed at the apparent lack of activity we had encountered to date. While I acknowledged that this lack of criminal activity could only be a good thing for the common citizen of this great city, I still wished that there would be an attack so that we could, perhaps, have a better chance at tracking the culprits behind these recent robberies. As it was, we had little to no chance of finding those people responsible for the robberies unless another robbery occurred, and so far, this was proving unlikely.

"So," Sherlock Holmes said, as he turned to look at our new acquaintance inquiringly, "as long as we are here, may I inquire as to how you found yourself on this team? From everything we have heard of the team, you do not sound as though you are quite in the same category as the other six members- no offence intended."

"Not a bit of it taken in the first place, I can assure you," the young spy said, shrugging dismissively as the three of us continued to walk down the streets. "It was really a fluke more than anything else; I helped them deal with an attempt by the Fantom to 'ambush' them in Gray's house- of course, it was probably all staged so they could have escaped anyway, but given that Gray would have probably been the 'hero' if that had happened I don't really think about that- and Quartermain let me stick around after that."

He sighed slightly as he glanced around at his surroundings once again, his fingers briefly flying towards his guns before he stopped himself; evidently, whatever he had seen was not the threat he believed it to be.

"I still don't really know why they keep me around at times, to be honest; I mean, I do my best, but there's nothing I can really do that somebody else couldn't pull off with a bit of time and training," the American sighed, sighing slightly as he glanced around the streets while they continued walking.

My friend shook his head.

"You should not put yourself down, Agent Sawyer; from what I have seen of your friends, they all value you highly, regardless of whether or not you have any specific 'extraordinary' abilities," he said, giving the young agent the closest thing that my friend could ever manage to a reassuring smile. "As Watson himself told you during our meeting with your League as a whole, it is men like you that can make all the difference in a military campaign; men who will not give up regardless of the odds against him."

Then his expression became more serious, although his voice retained its reassuring tone as he looked at the young American. "On that topic, Mrs Harker appears to value you particularly highly; tell me, how long have you two been involved with each other?"

"Oh… since about Christmas, really," the young American said, a small smile on his face as his mind went back to the time in question. "We'd been travelling around with the League for a bit before then, seeing the world and all, but Christmas Day, we got to talking after we'd exchanged gifts in the evening, one thing led to another, and, well…"

He shrugged. "Here we are."

"I see," Holmes said, nodding thoughtfully for a moment before looking back at Agent Sawyer. "Tell me, I presume you are aware of the nature of Edward Hyde with regards to what aspect of Henry Jekyll's personality he represents?"

"What, that he was originally created as a physical representation of the evil in Jekyll's soul?" Sawyer replied, a slight smile on his face as he looked over at Holmes. "Yeah, we know, but for me, it's kinda like the ambush at Gray's house; I generally don't think about it that much. Nobody else has really thought about it either, as far as I know; generally we just leave him alone about it."

"'Leave him alone about it'?" I repeated incredulously.

"Well, in all the times Hyde's been active, the guy's never struck me as being that bad, to be honest," Sawyer explained, as he turned to look at me. "I mean, there's been several times when he could've just run off and left us to handle the situation on our own, but he's stuck with us despite that. Hell, the guy even went up against a being with the powers of at least half of us when he could have just run off and helped the guy to kill people…"

He shrugged slightly, as though the matter didn't really concern him that much. "Look, when you get down to it, Hyde's never given us a reason not to trust him, even if he gets a bit vicious against our opponents at times. Personally, I think that they've kinda exaggerated how bad-"

But what Agent Sawyer had been about to say regarding his opinion of Edward Hyde was never to be revealed, as the faint but nevertheless distinct sound of a large window breaking some way down the street came to our ears. The three of us only needed to exchange the briefest of looks to confirm that we were all of one mind in this matter, and then we were running towards the source of the scream. As we ran, Agent Sawyer and I drew our pistols, briefly checking them for ammunition before placing them in our hands, ready for use if the need arose, as Holmes removed the weighted scarf from his shoulders, clasping it in his hands as he prepared to use it against our upcoming opponents.

As we ran around a corner, we saw the thieves in question, and my eyes widened in surprise at the sight of them.

It was not the manner of the thieves that surprised me; they appeared to be the typically brutish personage who normally resorted to simple strong-arm tactics in order to get along in life. In that regard, at least, they conformed to our current theories about these robberies being overseen by one man who had hired various thieves to commit the crimes; these people appeared as though they would do anything for money.

What shocked me the most about them was the fact that they appeared significantly stronger than, given their likely upbringing in less-than-healthy conditions, they should have been. Indeed, they almost resembled that curious member of the League, Mr Terrance Nator, except that the League member's clothes managed to fit him. These men looked like their clothing was so tightly stretched over their shoulders that it was about to tear at any moment.

Agent Sawyer opened his mouth as though to say something- probably to demand their surrender- but he never got the chance to even begin his sentence. As soon as the initial shock had passed, our opponents charged towards us, roaring in a manner that reminded me uncannily of the Hound of the Baskervilles all those years ago.

None of us were prepared to give them the chance to reach us; aiming our guns, Agent Sawyer and I fired at them, attempting to at least put them down for the moment, while Holmes drew his scarf and thrust the weighted end at his opponent's head.

The blows struck our adversaries, but appeared to do minimal damage; Holmes' foe was sent staggering back, blinking rapidly as though confused, but the beings whom Sawyer and I had targeted merely winced slightly before continuing to charge forward. Fortunately, the two of us were able to neatly sidestep our foes- their significantly greater-than-normal mass apparently came at the cost of reduced manoeuvrability at greater speeds- but, as they halted their charge and turned to glare at the three of us, it was clear that we were in trouble.

"Oh boy…" Agent Sawyer said, as he reached into his pocket. For a moment, I thought he was going to pull another weapon out that he could use, but when he withdrew his hand it was empty. I was about to ask why he had done that, but then the creatures lunged back at us and we were forced to go back on the defensive.

Apparently more used to this kind of situation than either Holmes or myself, Agent Sawyer reacted first; as the 'creatures' lunged towards us, he grabbed us both by the coats and pushed us both down to the ground. Before Holmes or I could react, the American had spun around to face an oncoming creature and, grabbing its arm, almost fell back to the ground as he planted a foot on his opponent's chest and literally seemed to kick it backwards. Evidently he had somehow managed to use his opponent's momentum against him without experiencing any of the negative effects such a charge would normally have had on his person; the creature was sent crashing into the pavement a couple of feet away, while its companion (A part of me was shocked at how easily I had stopped thinking of our foes as men and was already thinking of them as things) turned to look at the slightly shaken form of Sawyer in surprise.

"Now then," the young man said, glaring at the creature as though it were a bad dog as he drew his pistol, showing no sign of the fear he must have felt, "if you're what I think you are, you can probably understand what I'm saying, right?" Not waiting for an answer or response of some kind, the spy continued to speak. "Because if you can understand me, you have two options; you can either luxuriate in a half-decent prison cell while we ask you a couple of questions, or you can answer them in the hospital, because I swear, if you make a move, I will shoot you."

For a moment, there was a stalemate, as the creature attempted to work out what its next move should be as it glared at the American before it, flexing its fingers in a manner that clearly demonstrated its eagerness for blood fighting with its survival instinct…

Then someone- or something, because it had some kind of air about it that did not strike me as being fully human- walked out of the shop, glaring in our direction under the shadow of a wide-brimmed hat and high-collar coat, and the situation automatically felt like it had taken a turn for the worse.

Unlike his associates, this man did not in himself appear very dangerous, being only of average size in terms of musculature and only a few inches below average height; he could almost have been called a dwarf. He gave off an air that evidently suggested danger to all three of us- Agent Sawyer appeared decidedly ill-at-ease, and even Holmes appeared slightly unnerved- but there was nothing about what we could see of this man that should normally prompt such a response.

Looking at Agent Sawyer, the man just smiled casually up at us, apparently unfazed by the presence of the guns in the young American's hands, and only giving a brief nod to show that he had even registered the presence of Holmes and myself.

"Ah, you and your associates finally got my note, I perceive, Agent Tom Sawyer?" he asked, the faint gleam of light on his almost animal-like teeth showing that he was smiling. "I have to admit, I'm almost surprised it took the Nautilus this long to get here; did Mycroft Holmes take a while to bother to contact you?"

"What?" Agent Sawyer said, trying to keep his guns trained on his opponents even as he glared in the man's direction, confusion evident on his face. "How do you know about the Nautilus?"

The man smiled in a casual manner, as though he was almost surprised Agent Sawyer didn't realise the answer to that question instantly and was humouring him as though he were a small child.

"I know a truly remarkable amount about the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, my good sir," he said, the smirk on his face giving the impression that he was enjoying a joke at our expense.

"After all, if I was ignorant of you and your associates, how would I be able to acquire associates such as these?" he continued, indicating the three men/creatures lying around us, who had by now regained their footing, even if they still looked uncertain about what to do next. Indeed, I noticed them edging slightly towards the new arrival, almost as though they were dogs seeking the protection of their master from a threat they could not fully understand.

"Wait a minute… the Hyde serum?" Agent Sawyer asked, raising an eyebrow as he studied the creatures before he looked back at our opponent. "You didn't do a very good job; Hyde's a lot bigger than these guys."

"Well, modifications had to be made to the drug, naturally; I didn't want them to retain their human minds in this form," the man chuckled, as he ruffled the hair on one of the creatures as though it were a dog of some kind. "I mean, something this strong with a will of its own? It's hardly on the same level of physical power as the good doctor's alter-ego, but it could still be a significant problem for me if it ever decided to fight me."

"And how did you come by this information?" Holmes asked, looking inquiringly at the man. "The mud on your coat seems to indicate that you have been in this part of the world for several months, at least since the League itself became active. The immediate assumption would be that you were in the employment of the Fantom, but according to my sources he only developed a means to create the Hyde serum in his Mongolian fortress, and you were clearly in London at the time he was at work. Since the fortress was destroyed, you could hardly have gone there to acquire the files at a later date, and if the headquarters of British Intelligence had been infiltrated in the last few months, I feel sure that Mycroft would have requested my assistance in investigating the matter."

The man nodded slightly as my friend spoke.

"Indeed, Mr Holmes," he said, as he looked at the detective in a casual manner. "Your talents are as impressive as I remember them to be. It is almost a shame that you never turned your mind to crime rather than detection; you could have been a truly worthy adversary if you lacked your foolish concepts of morality."

Holmes shrugged his shoulders in a nonchalant manner.

"I have been given that offer before, and, as ever, I must decline it," he said, looking critically at our new opponent. "Now then, as we are all here, would you care to tell us who you are?"

The man opened his mouth to reply, but was suddenly interrupted as a sudden loud pounding noise, as though something heavy, was running towards us. Despite the still-present danger posed by our opponent, Holmes, Agent Sawyer and myself turned to peer over our shoulders in the direction of the noise, and saw Captain Nemo and Professor Hartdegen coming around the corner, a sword in Nemo's hand and a gun in Professor Hartdegen's.

However, neither of these men were the source of the rumbling we had heard; that came from the third figure, who rounded the corner a few seconds after the other two men. For a moment, I thought that the two men had, for reasons unknown, freed a gorilla from London Zoo to help us in this struggle, but then I realised that this creature was far larger than any monkey, and seemed to be dressed in a torn dinner suit. It almost seemed as though the creature had suddenly gained a significant amount of muscle in very little time, and its clothing had subsequently been nearly torn apart in the process.

I am sure that Holmes and I, for once, realised what this creature was at the same time; he had changed a great deal since our last fatal encounter with him, but there was no other who could look like this and would travel with the League.

"Mr Edward Hyde!" the man smiled, from where he was standing behind us. "So good to see you again!"

The creature that Mr Hyde seemed to have become simply grunted as he stared at our adversary.

"And you are?" he asked, critically. "Your soldiers look a bit like me, but that's all I can think of that you and I have both experienced."

"Oh, come come, you're going to be like that?" the man said, looking scathingly at Hyde. "After all I had to go through to ensure that Henry could transform into you instead, and you don't even remember me?"

Looking back at Hyde, it was apparent that, while the meaning behind that sentence was lost on us, it was apparent to our brutish companion; he had become visibly paler, and was staring at the man as though he'd just encountered the very Devil.

"No…" he said, staring at the man in terror. "It can't be… you can't be…"

The man chuckled.

"I would have thought that, with your new associates, you would have learned that nothing is impossible," he said, smiling casually at Mr Hyde as he raised his head slightly. As he did so, the shadow that had concealed his face was finally lifted…

And my eyes widened in horror at the sight before us.

The face before us nearly defied description. I can see it to this day, yet words are insufficient to describe the expression- indeed, the very aura- of pure, unmitigated evil about it, as it stared casually at us all.

However, none of this terror could compare to the horror I felt as I saw the face.

It was a face that could not be there, because the person it had once belonged to was talking to the man right now.

The face of the Mr Edward Hyde who had murdered Sir Danvers Carew all those years ago, and who had been shot by Holmes as Doctor Jekyll began to transform that fatal night.