Chapter One: Spirited Away

Part Four

Russia, 1999

The train started to pick up speed as it chugged along the track, its wheels churning. One of the sidecar doors clattered in the wind, its latch loose.

To this particular door a chalk-white hand flew, grasping the handle and wrenching it open. The owner of the hand flung himself inside, and once he had gained his balance, he stuck his head out the door again.

"Come, Effie!" he shouted over the roaring clatter of the train. He held tightly to the boxcar's side and stretched out a hand.

A young woman, dressed in a red spike-textured dress and large boots ran along side the car, reaching for his hand.

"Come on!" With a lunge and firm grasp, he grabbed her hand.

She was lifted easily from the ground and hauled into the boxcar, just in time. The train turned sharply, and she fell against her comrade.

But he was strong and did not budge as the train careened around the curve. She blushed slightly. "Sorry," she mumbled.

He shook his bald head and smiled at her, then sat down among some crates in the boxcar.

Effie joined him, drawing her knees to her chin and running her fingers through her golden pig-tailed hair. "How long do we have to keep running, Illia?" she asked, glancing him.

Illia, alias Necro, sat at ease among the crates, his powerful legs stretched before him; one long, muscled arm rested on one of the wooden crates. He was all-over a ghastly chalk-white, though there were various red tattoos on his shoulder and face; on in the shape of an arrow ran over his left eye. At her question, he turned towards Effie, his pupiless, irisless yellow eyes staring over his large beak-like nose. The glow in his eyes dimmed sadly. "I don't know," he said quietly in a rather high, raspy voice. "Twelve is still out there…and Gill." His expression drooped lower, and he turned his face from her. "I'm sorry you're involved in this, Effie. I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

Effie scooted closer to him and leaned against his side. "It's not your fault, Illia. And whatever happens…" She took one of his long-fingered hands and curled hers around it— "I know you'll be there to protect me."

He brushed his fingers along the side of her face and smiled. "Effie—"

A blinding white light struck them.

Though unable to see, Necro jumped to his feet, and grabbing Effie, shoved her behind him.

As the light began to dim, Necro distinctly saw the silhouettes of three men—three armed men.

"Stay behind me, Effie!" Necro hissed, and reared back one of his arms, balling his hand into a fist. Before he could let his blow fly, three or more sharp darts whistled through the air and buried themselves deep in the bare part of his chest.

"ILLIA!" Effie screamed behind him.

He swung his arm, but it was sluggish and slow; the man nearest him dodged it easily.

He gasped as he fell to his knees and darkness came rushing in. "Get…back, Effie…" he panted. He was going numb; he could no longer feel his legs, and he could barely see -- everything was dimming.

He felt his head hit the floor of the boxcar, and faintly heard Effie scream.

The last thing he was aware of was the feeling of someone dragging him away.

"Necro…hey, Necro…wake up."

He could hear again. His feeling was also back…someone was tentatively shaking his shoulder.

"Necro?"

With a savage yell, he opened his eyes and jumped to his feet. He stumbled for a moment; his feet were linked together by some kind of energy bond; his hands were tied likewise behind him, at the elbow and wrist.

Before him, now in a grappling stance, stood a familiar young man. Behind him was a crowd of people whom Necro did not know.

The young man – who could be no older than twenty-five – stood warily eyeing Necro with his cobalt-blue eyes. A thick red bandana covered his forehead and eyebrows; though it matched the tattoos under his eyes, it contrasted sharply with his wavy blond hair, thick locks of which hung on either side of his face -- the rest hung down his back in a long ponytail.

Necro's mind raced. The man before him looked familiar – who was he?

Names, faces flicked through his mind like channels on the television. He studied the youth's army-green overalls, the way the straps and front hung at his sides, leaving him bare-chested, his green fingerless gloves, his lace-up combat boots.

Suddenly the name came to him. "Alex," he said questioningly.

The young man's stance slackened. "Yes," he confirmed. "You are Necro, aren't you?"

Necro nodded.

Alex fell out of his grappling stance completely and watched as Necro did the same, straightening to almost six-and-a-half feet tall. Alex marveled at his height; you'd never know he was so tall, the way he hunched over. But then again, he wasn't as tall as the two marines behind him, who stood a even taller than Necro.

Necro nodded his head at the crowd behind Alex. "And them?"

Alex glanced over his shoulder briefly. "They were all brought here too, just like you and me. But they're…." he paused for a moment and his bandana wrinkled as his forehead creased in thought. "They said they're from different universes. Most of them are from Earth…but different Earths from ours. Some others are from different planets….I'm still not clear on it all. They were explaining when you started to wake up."

Necro could almost feel his head spinning. Different universes? Different planets? It can't be possible!

"I told them I knew you…sort of. I thought you'd remember me." Alex laughed shortly. "You were a tough fighter."

That brought Necro's mind back to the present, and his eyes narrowed involuntarily. "Not tough enough," he said ruefully. He had been beaten by Alex in a street fighter tournament a little over a year ago.

"I'm sure you've gotten a lot stronger since then," Alex said, a slight smile on his face.

"So ya both fight for a livin' or what?"

Necro searched for the source of the voice; it was a short man, strangely bound.

"Pretty much," Alex answered, turning to face him. "Well, at least that's what I do." He glanced back at Necro, who had returned to his normal hunched position, his glowing yellow eyes narrowed.

"Enough small talk," he said angrily, his Russian accent suddenly more apparent. "Where are we? Why am I tied up like this?"

"We don't know…Necro, is it?" Superman asked, coming forward. "We don't know any more than you do…besides each other's names and a little background. Goku, Trunks and Carin have been here the longest…about eight or nine hours?"

Goku nodded. "That's about right." He surveyed the chalk-white fighter with a raised eyebrow. "Why are you tied like that?"

Batman watched the newcomer, took note of the way his head swiveled slightly to look at each of them. This was a man who had been betrayed several times over, a man who, unlike Alex, found it extremely hard to put immediate trust in someone. Batman couldn't blame him; he barely knew those around him, but from their actions thus far, he was willing to give them a shot. They were strong, seemed honest, and like Superman and himself, seemed like they just to wanted to get home.

"What has happened to Effie?" Necro screamed suddenly, ignoring Goku completely. He looked around wildly.

"Who's Effie?" Samus asked, coming up beside Alex.

Alex shook his head. "Not sure. I don't…oh wait! His friend…girlfriend maybe. That's right, she was at the tournament."

"We don't know where she is! Only you were brought here!" Carin said as she watched him run around to the different areas of the room. As he neared the door, she stood in his way. He didn't know the door was guarded by electric current.

Necro took on his fighting stance as best he could, eyes blazing. "Get outta my way or I'll tear you limb from limb," he snarled.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Goku said, stepping in front of Carin.

"I warned you—"

"Necro, stop! This isn't getting us anywhere. They don't know any more than we do!" Alex yelled at him. "They—"

The room went dark.

The only light now came from the hallway and the small bathroom at the opposite end of the room.

"It will benefit you to take some rest," a voice came. They could not pinpoint where it came from, for it did not come from one area as if from a speaker, but all around them.

Carin immediately recognized it as the voice of the young man who had defended her against Johnny Cage. "Who are you?" she called.

"In due time, Mrs. Darkstar," the voice replied, and seemed to fade away.

"Hey!" Goku yelled. "Come back here!"

"Who are you?" Samus asked.

"Where are you?" The Marine asked, quieter.

"Please rest," the voice came again. "You will find blankets and pillows to your right."

Sure enough, when they looked in that direction several pillows and neatly-folded blankets were lined against the wall.

"We ain't doin' nothin' until you give us some answers, bub!" Logan growled at the ceiling.

"Please!" Captain America yelled. "What do you want? Why are we here? Who are you?"

"Please rest." The voice repeated, but despite their protests, did not speak again.

"If he thinks we're going to rest, he has another thing coming," Ripley said irritably.

"Maybe it's not such a bad idea," Carin said.

"What?!" Several of the others shouted and turned her way in surprise.

"Not all of us at the same time of course," she said calmly.

"That's right," Captain America said, nodding. "We could post sentries. Watch in shifts."

"Sounds like a good idea to me," Superman agreed. "You guys could probably use some rest," he added, nodding at Goku, Trunks and Carin. "Let's put it to a vote. Who's up for watching in shifts and getting some rest?"

Everyone raised their hands except Necro, who merely grit his teeth and turned his head away, and Logan, who was unable to do so.

"Okay…so how are we going to break up the shifts?" Alex asked.

"I think that those who have been here the longest should rest first." John Connor suggested.

Samus nodded. "I think that's fair. I'll volunteer for first shift."

"I will too," Alex offered. "I don't think I could sleep if I tried anyway."

"Logan and I will stay up with you. Maybe we can fill in some details."

Necro stayed up with them as well, his yellow eyes glowing faintly in the darkness.

The Master Chief and the Marine did not sleep. They sat beside each other, silent, near those who rested.

The Chief's senses were tuned to his surroundings, ever vigilant, ever listening to the soft whispers and snores around him. His fingers itched to hold a weapon – a SMG, a magnum, anything. He felt ridiculously helpless without his armour or a weapon. He could still defend himself without either – and God help the person who tried to attack him – but if the Covenant attacked…if anyone attacked and they were armed….He didn't want to think about it.

And despite the thirteen others in the room, he felt strangely alone without the constant hum of Cortana in his head.

The Marine felt equally helpless without his own armour and weapons, but would never say so, and never let on such emotions. He was just as stolid as the Chief, just as silent, just as still. He constantly surveyed the room, his ears catching every sound, no matter how quiet. Every so often, he caught snatches of the conversation of the sentries by the doorway.

Captain America and Logan explained everything to Samus, Alex and Necro to the best of their ability. Logan related his adventure with the ninjas, and Batman, who apparently preferred the dark, told them what had occurred before Logan and the captain's arrival and after Logan had been rendered unconscious.

"So…these men. Boys, I guess you'd call them, from what you've said. Are they ninjas too?" Captain America asked.

Batman shook his head. "They look like teenagers. The first more so than the second. The second was older somehow…something about his eyes and demeanor. No, they were definitely not ninjas. They could both perform magic."

"Psh, come on." Alex grinned, but the smile dissolved as Batman fixed him with a dead-serious stare. "You're not kidding?" He turned to the others seated around him. "You don't believe that, do you?"

"I'd believe it," Logan answered.

"You would? But magic's—"

"Impossible?" Logan cut him off. "Look, hot shot. With the things I've seen, there's not much I'd say's impossible."

Alex looked around at them again, then turned back to Batman. "Okay, fine. Let's just say they can do magic then. What kind of magic did they perform?"

"The first boy walked through walls—" Batman started.

"So what? I know a girl who can do the same thing." Logan interrupted, settling his back against the wall. He didn't seem to notice the look of mild aggravation on Batman's face.

"You do?" Samus asked.

"Yeah. She's…" he hesitated for a moment. "She's a mutant, like me."

Samus nodded in a way as if to say 'oh.' "So…do you know a lot of uh…mutants?"

"Yeah." Logan said shortly, and his steely eyes glinted in the light of the hallway.

Samus waited for him to say more, but he did not. He was a strange one, Logan. He'd talk freely enough, but when the subject of mutants came up, he closed himself off; he became defensive and guarded. Like an animal, Samus thought. Ignoring his cold stare, she turned back to the Dark Knight. "You were saying?"

Batman continued, "Alright. Maybe the first kid's a mutant. But the second did perform magic. He had some sort of magic deck of cards. He placed a card on the ground, said something, and a creature came out of the card."

"A creature came out of the card?" Alex echoed. "What do you mean? What kind of creature?"

"The card…fluttered. It glowed, and a creature came out of the card. There was a picture on the front—it was like the picture became living. Truth be told, the creature looked like a mermaid."

"A mermaid." Necro repeated. "Walking through walls…magic cards…." He let out a scoffing laugh. "Chepooka."

"Nonsense or not," Batman said, picking up on the Russian word, "It's obvious that those boys are in positions of power. The ninjas are outranked by them, and that's for certain."

"Batman?"

The Dark Knight looked up as Superman neared them. "Shift's up, if you want to rest."

"You wanted to see me, my lord?"

"Yes. Close the door. Your men are not within the vicinity?"

"No, sir."

"And the nemeses? Have they all arrived?"

"Yes, my lord."

"And they remain ignorant of my presence?"

"Yes, sir."

"And are all the warriors present?"

"Not…not yet, my lord."

"How many more are left?"

"Only six. Five, after Scorpion and Goro return."

"Tell your men to hurry. I am growing impatient."

"Yes, my lord—"

"And when will they begin?"

"My lord?"

"The warriors."

"They will begin as soon as everything is explained to them."

"Good….good."

Carin, Goku, Trunks, Batman and Superman made up the second shift. While the others rested, Logan dozed with his back against the wall; the Marines continued their silent watch.

"You've been really quiet, Trunks. Are you okay?" Goku asked.

Trunks threw his friend a half-hearted smile and nodded. But the nod paused and turned into a shake of the head as he said, "No." He let the back of his head fall against the wall behind him. "I'm really worried about Mom. You have Gohan, Piccolo and my father to protect your world, Goku. Mom's my whole world, and if I'm not there to protect her…."

"Hey, she'll be fine, Trunks." Goku said comfortingly. "Bulma's a tough lady. She can handle herself."

"Yeah….You're right." But the worried feeling in the pit of Trunks' stomach didn't dissolve.

"So…." Goku began, trying to think of something to say to break the gloom, "Carin."

She glanced at the Saiyan. "Goku?"

"Where were you when you got captured?"

"I was on a mission with my team."

"A mission?" Goku leaned forward. "Are you a secret agent or something?"

"Of a sort." She smiled briefly. "I hunt Ihreakin."

"What are Ihreakin?" Trunks asked, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Greater demons."

"You must be a tough woman. I've fought demons before. They're powerful things."

She looked over her knee at Batman. "Have you? I hope they weren't Ihreakin. I'd hate the idea of them being on Earth. I thought we'd eradicated them there."

"It wasn't an Ihreakin. Besides, we live in different universes."

"Ah, yes."

"What do they look like?" Goku asked.

"The Ihreakin? Well, there isn't one type…they're classified into roughly ten groups, based on appearance and abilities. The most common is the – what is it?" She asked, her voice dropping to a whisper, for Superman had turned his head suddenly. In the other corner of the room, the Marines slowly stood.

As Superman walked forward a few paces, there was the sound of several metallic somethings scraping against the floor. He looked down as one of them rolled to a stop at his booted feet.

His eyes widened.

It was a canister.

Just as he was about to yell, the canister hissed, and its contents were released.

"Gas!" the Man of Steel cried, covering his mouth. As the cloud from the canister quickly spread, they tried to escape it, huddling together.

"Not gas!" The Master Chief's voice cut through the haze. "Smoke!"

And so it was. Soon, the entire room was filled with it, so thick that Superman could barely see his hand in front of his face.

As the others were roused from their sleep, they yelled, stumbling around, trying to locate one another.

There were others moving around in the cloudy greyness – strangers, possibly the ninjas. There was a loud thudding sound at one point, as if something heavy were being set down, then a pattering of quiet, retreating footsteps.

"Is everyone still here?" Ripley shouted.

"Sound off!" Captain America ordered, and one by one they called out their names.

Carin counted them as they shouted, as she knew others in the room were doing.

John Connor waved his manacled hands in front of him, trying to clear the smoke. He heard Alex sound off near him, and opened his mouth to do the same. "Connor present—OW!"

"Connor?" Captain America's voice came. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, Captain," he returned, rubbing his shoulder as far as he could reach with his bound hands, "But I walked into something solid!"

"Walked into something?"

"Yes," John said, and felt into the fog directly in front of him. Definitely solid. Felt like… "Stone?"

"Connor?"

"It feels like stone!"

"Stone? Alright, Connor. Stay where you are, we're coming to you."

Although as a colonel John technically outranked the Captain's position, he didn't argue. Who could argue with a superhero? So he continued to try and figure out what the mysterious stone thing in front of him was. As he ran his fingers over it, he found that it was warm – it held the same kind of warmth a stone did after being in the sun for hours.

The smoke was slowly dissolving, and he could just see the outlines of his comrades coming near.

In a minute they reached him, and as the haze faded around them, they received their first look at the stone thing before them.

It was a statue. And not any statue –

"It's a gargoyle!" Captain America said wonderingly. "Looks like it came right off Notre Dame's roof."

"Notre Dame?"

"A cathedral in France." Superman told Carin.

"Besides being used as water spouts, architects used to place gargoyles atop buildings in the medieval ages to ward away evil spirits." Batman said quietly.

"But what is it doing here?" Alex asked. "I don't understand."

"Neither do I."

The Marine and Master Chief surveyed the statue. While both had learned or least heard of Notre Dame, neither had heard of gargoyles, much less seen one.

It, or rather he, for it was obviously a male figure, held a crouched position, one leg bent and the other stretched out, along which a long tail ran. One hand was on the ground, the other was reared back in a grabbing position, claws outstretched. Its limbs and chest were very well muscled; if he was alive he would certainly be a force to be reckoned with. His wings would have been colossal had they not been mostly folded along the creature's shoulder blades; they were great bat-like things that would have held a wingspan of a good seven feet or more.

What struck them about the statue was the face. Disregarding the fangs, pointed ears and horn-crested forehead, it was a very Human face. It wasn't unnaturally grotesque or horrible like a monster's; its features didn't hold an expression of wickedness or anger, but rather one of fierce protection.

The Marine's study of the statue was broken by a sort of disgusted sigh. His eyes flicked to Logan, who stood near him in the darkness.

"I want answers, but it looks like all we're gettin' is more questions!" he said gruffly.

"Complaining isn't going to—" Ripley started agitatedly.

"I am sorry for the interruption, please go back to sleep."

The voice was back.

"Go back to sleep?" Necro hissed at the ceiling. "You expect us to—"

"The gargoyle was not supposed to be brought into the room in such a way as to cause commotion. We apologize for waking you. Please rest."

Necro's lips curled back over his pointed teeth as the voice fell silent, causing his strange face to become even more freakish.

"Necro," Alex said, jogging over to him. "Calm down. I know everything is—"

Necro whirled on him, eyes flashing. "Don't you dare tell me to calm down. If I wasn't chained, I'd beat your sorry—"

"Enough!"

The voice was so strong and so commanding that Necro took an involuntary step away from Captain America, who had spoken. The Captain's face was hardened, his eyes narrowed, his mouth in a tight line.

Logan felt a smirk tug at the corner of his mouth. The Captain was taking charge.

"Now you listen to me! On second thought, ALL of you listen. Where I come from, one of the biggest wars in world history is happening. I've been fighting in it for almost two years. It's a living hell. Now….Logan tells me that we win this war." He paused, looking at them all, finally staring Necro down. "I can tell you one thing – we're not going to win this war, and we didn't win other wars by tearing each others throats out! An army is team! We live, eat, sleep and fight as a team! Same thing goes here, where ever we are. We're in this together. If we're going to make any progress, if we're going to figure out anything, we have to work together. " In a stride, he was inches away from Necro. "In other words: we work together, or you stay out of the way. That clear, son?" He said quietly.

For one of the first times in his life, Necro was intimidated. And not only did he feel intimidated, but he felt ashamed. He nodded slightly. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Now I suggest all those who were sleeping go back to sleep. I have a feeling we're gonna need all the rest we can get."

Without any argument, those who had been resting went back to the pillows and blankets at the far side of the room, and those who had been on sentry duty went back to their place by the hallway door.

"Carin, wake up! Wake up!"

Her eyes flew open, and she jumped to her feet. Trunks' hand was on her shoulder, Goku was on her other side, standing. She blinked a few times and nearly cursed; she couldn't believe she'd fallen asleep! "What's going—"

"Shh!" Several voices whispered urgently.

Superman was near her, and he bent and whispered, "I just heard a cracking noise. I don't know where it's coming from."

Carin's eyes narrowed in the darkness, scanning the room. And suddenly she heard it. A sharp, crackling, crunching, breaking sound. It grew more frequent, and her eyes fixed on the statue in the middle of the room. As she silently pointed, she moved forward. Superman, Batman, Captain America, Logan, and the Saiyans behind her moved towards the statue.

The Marines quickly and quietly woke the others, telling them not to make a sound, and they all watched the statue.

Cracks and fissures ran across the statue, spreading in spider web patterns on the stonework. Nearly everyone in the room jumped as the statue began to tremble, sending bits of stone and rubble to the floor. A sudden glowing purple light from the cracks shone brightly in the dark, and a moment later, the statue was no more.

A howling, guttural roar and pieces of stone flew in all directions as the gargoyle stood on his powerful legs, reaching his arms as far as they would go upwards, hands balling into clawed fists. His skin was all over a light purple colour; the loincloth he wore, the same dark brown colour as his long thick hair, was held by thick belt. His wings, as presumed, were indeed colossal, extending even further than they initially imagined. The eyes, once blank stone, now glowed a brilliant white, illuminating the gargoyle's face and fangs as he stretched his impressive body.

But all at once, the gargoyle's eyes were not the only thing lighting up his features; two manacles which the Marines and the others had not seen on the gargoyle's wrists now connected together by a glowing energy bond. The gargoyle stopped in his stretching as he felt the restraints. The white glow of his eyes subsided momentarily, revealing black irises, but soon flared an even angrier white. As he moved forward, similar manacles on his feet activated, binding together.

"What is all this?" The gargoyle roared, and his voice seemed to shake the room. He snarled and strained at the energy bonds, but to no avail.

Someone in the resting area took a step backwards, a movement which attracted the gargoyle's attention. He suddenly realized that he was not alone, surveyed the two groups, and backed away a step, his wings flaring. "Who are you?" he demanded. His voice was clear and strong – and angry. "Where am I? Where is my clan?"

"He was captured too?" Trunks whispered.

Carin nodded. "I guess so."

Their whispers caused the gargoyle to look their way. Though they had trouble seeing him, he was used to such darkness and could see everyone in the room perfectly. There were thirteen of them, and all seemed to be handcuffed, as he was. Two of them were bound strangely.

Goku walked forward slowly, raising manacled hands. "My name is Son Goku," he said. He gestured to the others in the room. "We're friends."

"Where am I?" the gargoyle repeated.

"We…we don't really know."

"We were taken from our homes and brought here. Like you," Captain America said calmly.

After a moment, the gargoyle's fists unclenched, his wings lowered slightly, and his eyes lost their white glow, reverting back to their normal black irises. "Then we are all captives."

"Yes."

"Where is my clan? Who has done this?"

"Your clan?" Captain America quickly glanced at Logan. "We don't know anything about your clan…you were the only one who was brought here. And we don't know who's behind all this. Some of us have been here nearly an entire day."

The gargoyle looked around at them all, then breathed in deeply. As he exhaled heavily through his nose, his wings folded themselves down; the talons that topped the wings hooked onto his shoulders, and the wings hung down his back like a cape. His tail writhed behind him. "My name is Goliath," he said. "Who are you?"

"My name is Captain America. Goku you've met, but this is Carin Darkstar, Trunks Briefs, Superman and Batman." He paused at each of them in turn, and then gestured to the group on his other side. "Over here, is Logan, Samus Aran, Master Chief, the Marine, Alex, Necro, Colonel John Connor, and Lieutenant Ellen Ripley."

Goliath's gaze lingered on Necro a second longer than the others. "Where are you from?"

"This might come as a bit of a shock. It's pretty hard to believe – it's still difficult for me to accept."

Goliath's mouth twitched in a momentary smirk. "Try me."

Goliath was indeed a Gargoyle, as they'd assumed. He, like all other Gargoyles, turned to stone during the day and awoke from the rocky shell at dusk. Goliath and his clan were originally from Scotland, but a magic spell had been cast on them, causing them to sleep in stone for one thousand years on the top of the castle they lived in. The spell was said to break when the castle rose above the clouds, and a man named Xanatos had taken the castle from Scotland and had it rebuilt atop a skyscraper in New York. Goliath and his clan had protected the streets of Manhattan along with the help of a detective, Elisa Maza and her partner. Goliath had been sleeping when he had been taken from his clan.

Upon hearing Goliath was from Manhattan, the true reality of alternate universes finally struck Alex. He was from Manhattan…and if they had been from the same Manhattan, Alex surely would have known about Goliath and his clan of Gargoyles.

After Goliath had shared his story, Alex could not go back to sleep. Indeed none of them could find sleep and sat together in the darkness.

The Marine broke minutes of long silence by saying what they were all thinking: "I don't get it."

"Fifteen." The Master Chief said, his pale face nearly glowing in the dark, "Fifteen of us and so far I don't see any connection."

"We are not of one race or organization, we do not come from the same place or time and we share no common enemy," Carin stated, drawing her legs underneath her.

"Some of us are from similar worlds and have similar enemies," John Connor said, glancing at Trunks, "But you're right. No common ground at all."

"You're wrong." Captain America's comment caused the colonel and the others to stare. "We're all defenders."

"What do you mean?" Alex asked.

The Captain straightened and nodded at Carin. "Mrs. Darkstar, you defend your worlds from those demons. Batman, Superman, Goku, Trunks, you defend the people of Earth. All of you in military positions – Ripley, Connor, you marines – have nations or planets to protect. Goliath defends New York. Samus, you said you've fought against pirates. Alex and Necro, you defend those you hold dear."

Many heads nodded as the Captain spoke. What he said was true.

"Alright. We've finally found a connection," Batman said, leaning forward. He paused for a moment, then continued. "Sorry to rain on your parade, but that doesn't help us much. What about our captors?"

"Right. We need to find out as much as we can about them. Right now, we know next to nothing." Trunks said moodily.

"We know that they're ninjas and that two of 'em can do magic," Logan said. "But why do they—" He stopped in mid-sentence as the lights suddenly flicked back on.

Goliath shielded his eyes with the tip of his wing and stood. The others followed his lead, looking towards the hallway.

"Hey!" Goku cried. "The pillows are gone! The blankets too!"

A few of them turned back around to face the corner where they had left the pillows and blankets and saw it was so.

"But who—" Samus wondered, but was cut off by a small click.

Simultaneously, all fifteen pairs of arms were snapped upwards and all were dragged backwards by the magnetic force that connected the energy bonds to the walls.

"Don't struggle! You can't get down!" Trunks shouted at Necro and Goliath, who hadn't undergone the linking before.

The hallway door opened and Subzero walked in. Although all were astonished, Cairn was the only one that let out an audible gasp.

In his arms was a young girl.

Subzero laid her down. She was dressed in a school uniform, and looked Japanese. Her hair, oddly, was a reddish-pink colour and what wasn't hanging over her forehead in fluffy bangs was done up in a long braid. She was a thin, long-legged girl and could be no older than fifteen years old.

With a wary glance at Logan, Subzero turned to leave.

"Wait! Stop! You cannot—come back here!" Carin's shouts took those bound next to her by surprise. "She is a child!"

Subzero neared the door, and Carin's shouts turned to screams, which finally melded from English to a language they could not understand. "Come back! You cannot kidnap a child! Yein! Aia eb lingis sil djat! Veldizu! Leizu! WIKTONGUE!"

They were released as the door closed, and unthinking, Carin raced towards the entrance.

"Carin!" Goku yelled, and dove for her ankle. He caught it in his strong grasp, and she fell just short of the door to collide solidly with the floor.

"Carin! Calm down!"

She was breathing heavily and it was several minutes before she regained the composure to stand up again. Goku lingered near her in case she tried to bolt again, ignoring the wide-eyed looks turned in Carin's direction.

"Carin?" he asked gently.

"She's…only a little one…" came her voice, angry, quiet and aching.