17990/Removing A Threat to Mutant Kind

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Removing A Threat to Mutant Kind
Date of Scene: 31 May 2024
Location: Jungles of Nicaragua
Synopsis: The strike team assaults the Friend of Humanity's secret stolen Brainiac factory, taking out the guards and two working Sentinels before the entire location is blown to kingdom come.
Cast of Characters: Raven Darkholme, Monet St. Croix, Martinique Wyngarde, Paris Bennet, Jaxon Blain, Talia Wagner, Mary Seward, Neena Thurman, Erik Lensherr, Fred Dukes, Lorna Dane, Cain Marko, Spiral, Azazel, Victor Creed
Tinyplot: Ending a Threat to Mutantkind


Raven Darkholme has posed:
The Landing Bay on Asteroid M is usually bustling with activity, people and supplies coming and going from earth. On this night however, it is empty of everyone save for Mystique and the aqua and black haired Ritz Javernick, a known member of the Brotherhood with teleportation abilities. Equipment racks and tables have been set out for everyone to choose their armor and gear from, as well as ensuring that every person intending to head for the jungles of Nicaragua has a communication ear piece.

At the center of the first landing bay rests a large holo-table, offering a view of the facility that was mentioned in the call to arms. A massive three story building, taking up the space of two city blocks among the trees. The only windows are on the top most floor and don't appear to be able to be opened. A single small metal door sits next to a massive set of double doors appear to be the only way into the building. There are patrols moving around the building and through the trees, marked on the map by red spots that are in motion, with very few blind spots between them. If counted out there were over thirty individuals outside the building making the rounds on the patrols, thirty little red dots moving in an obvious pattern.

Mystique stands at the table. She is dressed in full black tactical body armor, complete with a helmet that is presently sitting on the edge of the table. Her flaming red hair is pulled back into a french braid, tied with a black rubber band. She has a a sniper rifle slung by its strap over her back, on each hip her favored auto pistols, and around her waist is a tactical belt with pouches. Strapped across her chest a bandoleer with extra clips for her pistols. On the floor by her feet are two large black duffle bags that the keen eyes would see are filled with C4. Her body language is as tense as the situation, her expression serious as she looks over the hologram. She programmed it, she'd seen it first hand, but she was still looking to ensure it was all correct.

"Take your time looking over the holo-map," she states as each person arrives. She offers each nod as well, acknowledging their presence, grateful for them being there. "When you're all ready, I will switch it to the inner map. Make sure to armor yourselves up, take extra weapons, this is going to be a war in and of itself."

True to her word, when everyone has indicated they've looked the map over, she taps the console and a map of insides shimmers into place. The building is three stories in height, but inside was one massive room. The main floor is comprised of machinery, huge devices that are each manned by six people to ensure that the individual pieces of the sentinels are constructed completely. At the center of the floor is a small building, the command center for the machinery that, even at this hour, are fully functioning. There are people at each machine station, working into the night on the construction of the next sentinel.

At the back of the warehouse the single completed sentinel stands, on either side of it is another that look as if they are still having the final touches put in place. From all activity it is evident that this factory is constructing more sentinels, and they are close to having two more fully completed.

For those who were there on G-Day, when the Wild Sentinels attacked Genosha, they will know that these are slightly smaller, more compact, but just as deadly. "The Starport was the testing grounds for the one in the middle," Mystique states, speaking more than loud enough to be heard. "The other two are scheduled to be sent out for testing next week, their target... Genosha."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique's yellow eyes scan the faces of those present before she continues speaking, her voice clear and filled with conviction, "The humans who are running this facility have a new type of armor they are wearing, it appears to absorb mutant based attacks of fire, water and energy, as well as being bullet proof. You'll need to look for weak spots, such as under the arms, backs of the legs, etc." A darkness fills her eyes, her voice filling with venom now. "I witnessed them dragging mutants out to fight for their lives against those in the armor, testing its abilities before they killed them. One or two against ten to twelve of the bastards."

Using her finger she traces a line through the hologram, from the entry doors to command center, "Through this door there is a flight of stairs down to the living quarters below the factory, this is also where they are keeping the mutants. One team will go in with the sole purpose of getting to the lower level, securing the mutants and then signal Ritz to teleport them out. Their second task, once the mutants are clear, find entrance to the power station below the living quarters, and set explosives."

Once more she looks from person to person, "The rest of us will be in the jungles, and on the main floor, ensuring that the only conflict the first team has are the guards already down there, and setting explosives on the machinery. Every human in this location is a member of the Friends of Humanity, every one of them has been a part of the death of mutants at the hands of their creations and their new armor and weapons. So while the first team is getting the mutant prisoners out and taking care of the power plant, the rest of us will kill every single human at this facility. Not one single human is to be left alive... do I make that clear?"

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix would nod thoughtfully over and purse her lips. She's already memorized the displays and layouts of the area, and is looking over the Sentinels that have been put on display. "Do we have any idea of how enhanced they are?" If they were on the level of the ones that carried out the Genoshan Genocide, thene ven all of them together had no real chance of winning.

"Or are they only more standard models?" She would analyse the displays, looking them over and tapping at her cheek.

"If they're more standard models then we can deal with them quickly and move on towards the main fortifications. If they're enhanced ones it would be better to stay at long range and barrage them and attempt to isolate them so they can be bypassed so the primary mission can be carried out." EIther they had sufficient firepower to deal with the Sentinels quickly or they didn't even have enough to scratch the paint. There probably wasn't any room in between that. She would glance up and down the screens, eyes narrowd and in consideration.

"There are too many of us here for me to be able to guarantee to be able to keep up a constant mental link with all of us. WE'll need at least three separate communications lines for redundancy. One should be analogue in nature."

Martinique Wyngarde has posed:
Martinique Wyngarde certainly doesn't need to be told twice to armor up. She will prepare a reinforced, hunter green jumpsuit, and sturdy black boots. After studying the map, she points to a hilltop on the map. "Drop me here, I'll provide cover fire."

Walking over to where she put her equipment, she gestures to a duffel bag of.. supplies, and a very long rifle. "The range should not be a problem, and they'll never know what's hitting them. An excellent distraction to soften them up."

No problem guns won't solve.

Paris Bennet has posed:
Exodus studies the holographic map with quiet intensity. His resolve was shaken last time he met armored anti-mutant adversaries and he is the type to keep grudges. This time he will be more methodical, and crush them. No prisoners? That makes everything easier.

Monet words draw his attention. "I can handle the mental link no matter the numbers," he states calmly, folding his arms across his chest. "I will be in the field, since someone else is handling teleportation duty."

Jaxon Blain has posed:
This is Jaxon's first planned 'official' mission. Over the past week, he's been involved in several surprise attack involving both Sentinels and Purifiers wearing some jacked up form of 'sentinel-like armor. He's also no stranger to the hide and seek side of anything. It's what he does best.

He's opted for something a little less tactical in the way of protection. Black shirt, black pants tucked into lighter weight black boots and simple hood ready to be pulled down - all designed to take a bullet or deflect a blade, but not much more. Moving quickly and efficiently is more his style - not being seen is his 'armor'.

Standing in the back, watching the holograms from behind at the beginning, he finally steps forward to study things more closely. His interest is in the inner workings of the building. "I can get in, possibly without alerting anyone or anything. I can take down guards around the area the mutants are being held. Probably find the entrance to the power station. Be nice to not be alone in there, but I'll go it alone if necessary."

Most of the time, the shadows are the only allies he needs.

Talia Wagner has posed:
Talia Wagner swallows a little hard. She doesn't dispute the truths in Mystique's words, but full-on intentional killing and murder was something she once considered over the line. Before she became worldlost, before she was Exiled. Before she found her way here. On the way, she saw plenty of darkness, enough to know they can't let the threats the Friends or the Sentinels represent get out of hand.

She had Magneto's and Mystique's blood in her veins. When push came to shove, she was Brotherhood at her core.

And so she has her sword strapped tonight. Still, her own talents might serve better in terms of infiltration.

"I want to be on the rescue. I might be able to use some of the enemy against themselves, especially if we need their passcards or eyescans to get through barriers."

Mary Seward has posed:
Mary Seward is mostly paying attention to the plan. Really, it's hard to focus on the details and intricate strategies on an empty stomach. A stomach she was motivated to fill. She also just wasn't as used to not being the one calling the shots. Still...she was here in the name of allyship after all. Allies cooperate.

"Oh, a kill all humans in sight team? Count me in on that." Her fanged grin shows itself. Her black overcoat sways as she does, seeming to hide something underneath. Normally not one to wear much, really, let alone body armor.

"...I'm here as a supporter of the Brotherhood's cause...and a woman who felt like eating out tonight...Slaughtering the hell out of these 'Friends of Humanity' falls within both of those interests. Set me loose."

Neena Thurman has posed:
Armed, armored, and ready for the coming apocalypse, Domino doesn't say much to start while the situation is laid out and plans are made. Going big is no concern for this killer, all she needs to decide is whether to go all out or reach for the suppressors.

Martinique calls out plans to be their guardian angel behind a rifle and gets a nod from the albino, appreciative to have the role covered.

"Had a bad run-in with the direct approach the last time so I'll put my luck toward getting the others out in one piece."

Suppressors and sliiightly smaller gun it is.

Erik Lensherr has posed:
As Mystique begins the briefing, a man who's already been over the intel... then over it again... then over it again floats up to join her. Few in this crowd could fail to recognize the Master of Magnetism, clad head to toe in form-fitted battle armor, resplendent in black and crimson, magenta and silver. Bolted across chest and shoulders, a flowing cape hangs heedless of his motion as Magneto descends to stand before the gathering-- or rather hover before them, some short span aloft.

The Corinthian helm is stripped from his head and tucked gracefully under one muscular arm. His grief-beard has been clean shaven, hewn features set in grim, stalwart focus. "Brothers-- Sisters!!" The Master of Magnetism clenches a fist before him as his voice reverberates throughout the chamber without benefit of conventional aid.

"I have said that there is no such thing as a holy war, and indeed-- it is an abomination of hate and hubris that the ignorant among the flatscans array against us. No matter the cost, it is our duty, our destiny, our singular mandate as free-willed beings to fight such oppression; such overt and relentless, mechanized genocide. Each of these weapons must be destroyed. Those who would build them, enhance them, deploy them must be torn asunder." There is no hyperbole there.

"And we must root out every collaborator who deigns this despicable villainy tolerable. Those of you inside-- root it out of their minds, strip it from their computer systems, bring me every name, accounting for every dollar spent on this unforgivable crime. We will give you the most glorious of distractions, an onslaught from all sides that even the most advanced of their arms would struggle to resist-- beginning with a superlative first strike weapon."

A dark, menacing smile creeps across Magnus' face, glimmers in steel-set eyes. "-- The Juggernaut." Prepared to be launched from space, or perhaps high altitude, in a reinforced rig of interlocking metal and explosives. They turned Cain into a railgun round. The maniacs!

Fred Dukes has posed:
Fred Dukes, alias Blob, crosses a pair of massive arms and listens to Mystique and Magneto enter an overcomplicating contest. The only real surprise is that they let some X-Twerps on the Asteroid, but he supposes all that good will had to go somewhere. Otherwise all of the pertinant questions are going to be raised after they get the information.

Namely, how much damage are they going to do with it.

Blob is a little sullen, because they're using Juggernaut as the halo missile instead of him. He has also made a subtle change to his costume tonight, having.

Somehow, I'm not sure how, I'm just writing this down, somehow he's stuffed one of those 'DADDY WAS RIGHT' shirts going around the internet, the ones with Magneto's leering face on them, over his chest. The warping effect Blob's size has on the shirt's print is going to be politely called considerable. Fred has not mentioned the shirt, acting as if he is in his usual uniform.

"Kidnap anyone in a lab coat, kill the rest." Blob finally says, moving to the launch site. "Y'all don't gotta write a novel about it. We been doing this since Reagan was alive."

Lorna Dane has posed:
"The Lagoon," a rotating commune of Genoshan psychics in constant contact with one another, utilized as a more volatile alternative to the Cerebro psychoamplification system to enable detection and mass-scale psionics, "is on stand-by to provide a back-up comm-link, but it won't hold up to any meaningful countermeasures under these conditions."

Despite the office she holds, and the critical existential importance that this mission holds, Polaris has chosen a position near the rear of the contingent and mostly remained quiet throughout the debriefing.

Disinterested? Contemplative? Focused--?

It's hard to say: the Queen's face is hidden behind a meticulously rendered skull mask. Where the eyes should be are deep, abyssmally black chasms that sometimes glimmer with searing green flames. The mouth - each tooth lovingly carved - is set in a permanent frown, and the space where the nasal cavity should be is smooth. A crown of spikes rings her head; a deep violet cloak composed of countless shards shrouds it and gently billows around the rest of her body. The rest of her's armored in the same quicksilver tungsten alloy as the mask, wrought into seamless, elegant curves. The main segments are deep shades of purple, while the insets and highlights are midnight black. Shimmering, viridian cords wind around her right bicep and waist; some of the ends ripple persistently on the same magnetic currents that keep her cloak billowing. The longest among them hang all the way down to her heavily armored soles like shattered bindings. Spikes of wildly varying thickness and length stud her limbs; most point backwards, with the cloak fluidly slipping aside to allow them to jut through as necessary.

"They accept the risks," she adds, low, and flat.

Dull, and tight.

Small. Compressed.

Constrained.

Incandescent, like a pearl dipped into the heart of a volcano.

"Genosha is the homeland of all Mutantkind-- physically, spiritually. Genosha is the womb from which the future will one day be born," emanates from behind the mask, multiplying the words she's spoken thus far several times over. "And the Enemies of Humanity - because that's what their steadfast denial of Tomorrow marks them as, the enemies of all those who who've sprung from the hominid well - want to strangle that future in its basinet." Lifting her her chin, she visibly sets her eyeline on Magneto and his cataclysmic works for a moment, two, three--

-- as if judging; appraising--

"Let today be a lesson on the efficacy of mindless, greedborne hatred," she then declares before lowing her head once more.

"We'll scrawl a warning to the rest of them in blood."

Cain Marko has posed:
"Ready when you are ol'buddy ol'pal o'mine who is absolutely not gonna miss or accidentally skip me off the top' of the atmosphere and send me flyin' off into deep space."

Juggernaut's deep voice chimes in over the comm systems, managing to vibrate through the room with its ominous heaviness and dense rumble despite the fact he's simply speaking over the communication systems.

His tone is cheerful sounding at least, despite the dire situation being discussed and the potential scope of the stunt that the two world shaking beings are about to perform.

Monitors would indeed reveal him, gripping hold of a specially prepared harness and rig forged for him with Magneto's special care and brand of attention to detail.

"Let's fire it up so we can get this over with! You all do a good job and I might even host a catered after party at my digs and even have enough foor for ol'Blob."

There's a pause and he then adds, as if affirming h's posh full scale luxury apartment.

"I have a concierge."

Spiral has posed:
Spiral stalks into the room and settles in, rubbing elbows with the others. Sets of arms fold above and under her chest and the free pair settle her iconic helmet and chastise hair up underneath the brim.

What sounds like permission for no hold's barred, has her quirk her lip until there's a glint of her teeth. "Good, sounds like this one gets the type of ratings that count."

With the plans on display, the options scrolled through like streaming options, she tries to set herself on narrowing her assistance to a vector that'll be most edutaining for herself. "I'll help Uber where it needs it, bunny hop agents at a time or flash mobs, but remember...it doesn't come with an in-flight movie or snacks."

Azazel has posed:
The deposed ruler of the underworld arrived in black tactical armor that bore a remarkably similarity to other armor worn here, a disorganized mass of eddies in flame and smoke.

"How beautiful is death when earned by virtue. Who would not be that youth? What pity is it that we can die but once to serve our country." he said, offering the presumptive last words of Nathan Hale.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique has spent weeks gathering intel, first in finding the facility, then in infiltrating it to obtain what information she could. It is likely that she could have blown the place up on her own, but the risk of being discovered was too great to take. Instead she opted for obtaining details and calling for a mission.

Indicating the communication ear pieces on the table near the equipment she says, "These are available to everyone, take one and use it as a back up. Exodus can see to the mental link, but as we are all well aware, I am difficult to link with and Magneto's helm blocks all telepathy."

"There Sentinels actually require a human inside of them to operate them," she states next, in answer to Monet's thoughts. "They have long range weaponry, but it seems more standard military than anything used in Genosha. I can tell you that the Sentinel's themselves have some sort of mutant dampening effect, but you have to be right up by them, with in five feet of them, for it to effect you, and even then the effects appear minor. I don't think the humans managed to get the full effect they were looking for with them, and clearly the fact that they require a human operator tells us they aren't nearly as powerful as the real thing. I should note that this information is as of two days ago, and they do not stop working."

Looking over at Juggernaut, one brow lifts to her hairline before she looks back to Erik. It was difficult to one up the master of magnetism, or even really try to. She would never have thought of launching Cain like a weapon, but then again that wasn't in her power set to do.

"Azazel, would you be so kind as to see to the teleportation of the group sneaking inside?" She then asks as she looks to him. "You, Jaxon, Domino, Talia, Lorna and myself. I will see to setting the explosives."

"Ritz will get those who aren't traveling with Juggernaut and Magneto, including putting Martinique in the location she requested," comes her next report. "Monet, Martinique, Exodus, Mary, Magneto, Blob, Juggernaut, and Spiral will devastate anything and everything they can in the jungles and main floor. Remember to plant the explosives from your duffle bags," here she indicates the two at her feet. "Every piece of machinery gets one."

Monet St. Croix has posed:
That's interesting. Piloted Sentinels? That seems to be a waste. "That makes our jobs hopefully simpler. A pilot will have slower reaction times and data processing. And large humanoids are more inefficient and ungainly to operate. If we hit them from multiple angles at the same time they will have a much harder time reacting than a purely artificial intelligence." The human mind could only multi-task so well when it came to three dimensional space. They had to understand what was going on, then react to it and control the robot to do so.

"They should have major balance issues. Attempt to strike in ways to offset their center of gravity and they should fall." She ponders while looking over at the designs then for possible structural weak points. At least up front that makes things hopefully a bit simpler. Of course now that she's said that they'll find that the pilots are technoorganic cyborgs and the Sentinels are made out of secondary adamantium and vibranium with power cores from Brainiac.

She really should learn to shut her mouth before she gets alled on it as they're teleported.

Martinique Wyngarde has posed:
Martinique Wyngarde is armored, armed, and ready to go. She has enough .50 for her TAC 50 to wreak havoc, and then in place of explosives... she gets a bazooka. "I'll take the shot after a house falls on them."

And that is the equipment she goes with, getting herself nicely teleported a mile away, to get on her stomach, camped out on the hill top, and start lining up shots.

Paris Bennet has posed:
Paris looks at the explosives with some distaste. Plant them? Yes, he knows the theory, but he wasn't planning to leave anything machinery-like functioning anyway. Still, orders are orders, and he is a dutiful knight.

"Men of conviction will always be more dangerous than machines," he replies to Monet long speech about what to do. It is the only piece of advice he will give before the strike team vanishes from the room.

Jaxon Blain has posed:
Jaxon wrinkles his nose just a bit at the thought of everyone being teleported in as one 'here we are' sized group, but he keeps his mouth shut. He's the new kid on the block, not his place. Maybe he figured it wrong anyway and it's going to be different drop points.

He reaches out to take one of the ear pieces and places it quickly - and efficiently - it's just his style. Quick, efficient and deadly.

Nowing only a few here and preparing to go into battle with them has his nerves a little jingle-jangling. But at least two tagged in his group are people he knows - and people he trusts. But is that a blessing or otherwise? Friends are not something he's used to having and he's finding himself a little torn - what if something happens to one of them? Mental note, Jax - don't let that happen.

Ear piece in place, he pulls down the black hood to cover his face. Head to toe in black, right down to black gloves, he almost doesn't even need a shadow form to disappear into them. A simple nod is all he offers in way of 'let's do this then'.

Talia Wagner has posed:
Talia Wagner wears custom-fitted body armor, black with Kevlar, although she may have paid a little extra to have a custom flair, a little bit of swashbuckling swagger to the look. Shoulderpads, a bit of a collar, a bandolier full of explosives and a saber in her left hand.

"Ready to raid, brothers and sisters," she grins, showing a bit of fang as she flicks her blade through a few blustery slashing motions. So she's feeling a little dramatic tonight - rage tended to do that to her. She'd seen enough to know she wouldn't regret the blood spilled tonight.

Neena Thurman has posed:
Domino nods to Monet here with her assessment. "That's the kind of advantage I can get behind. Dollars to donuts they haven't had many opportunities for training runs in 'em, either. People likely would have noticed. Let's hope we can catch 'em completely flat-footed. If we're lucky maybe we can use one or two of those murder machines against the bastards."

Explosives are offered and by gods she is going to help herself. By now the team's palest lady is bristling with weapons like a glossy black polycarbonate-wrapped porcupine.

Being part of the more Infernal-inclined team earns a couple of the Stealthers a brief looking over, including being given teleportation services by a dude who totally looks like a devil of some sort. "Welp" she thinks aloud. "I'm down to raise some Hell."

Mary Seward has posed:
Mary Seward chuckles to herself. "Don't give a damn about their conviction, just their blood." Finally, no more standing around and talking. Now for what she came here for. Killing humans, the thing that gave her purpose in unlife.

"Beam us up, Scottie!" Time to show just why it is she's called the Queen of Blood.

Erik Lensherr has posed:
The arsenal on offer is not a thing that interests the Master of Magnetism, per se. The myriad technologies, armaments, defenses may often be his inventions, refinements, or revisions... but the power he wishes to bring to bear against this adversary resides in Magneto's own two hands.

As Mystique finishes prepping the teams for the mission, Magnus drifts upwards and surveys those gathered with a lingering, pensive, nigh-unreadably stoic look. A panoramic consideration of those arrayed before him, as if committing it to memory. Flying outwards through the bay's shielding, Magnus is surrounded by the seemingly infinite void of outer space-- and a crackling, blue-white sphere of energy shielding himself therefrom.

It would be an exaggeration to sell the array designed explicitly for Cain-- or perhaps similarly powered individuals-- as 'man-sized' or 'portable', but the framework of parallel-aligned, enigmatically alloyed bars connect to a harness array, which connects to a similar armored rig of steel and shrapnel is scarcely larger than its inhabitant; who is, admittedly, quite large. This suit is carefully tailored to the Juggernaut's massive, armored form. Energy surges within Magneto's armored grasp as the capacitors connected to this weapon take on power from the Asteroid's potent solar collectors and magneto (lower case) generators.

"Remember." Magneto intones to the Juggernaut, once they are side by side, within the same energy field, severed by the Master of Magnetism's powers from even their own comms. "Keep them safe. Every single one." His people. The real priority mission within the mission falls to Cain Marco.

"Whenever you are ready." Another flourish of the opposite gauntlet, and the railgun emplacement charges up, audibly thrumming with power. In theory, launching the Juggernaut at relativistic velocities from far orbit could perhaps penetrate the Earth entirely. That seems overkill in this instance, but no one tell Mystique this is theoretically on the table, alright? In this case: The Master of Magnetism and his avatar payload descend through the upper atmosphere, into the clouds, far above the jungle.

From there the Juggernaut-loaded railgun would launch with a surge of Magneto's incalcuable mutant gift, straining against the harness' restraints for a steadily building instant before /launching/ the Marko missile for the center of their target, timed to precede their teleporters by mere instants. Magneto, at nearly as high a velocity, soars in right behind.

Fred Dukes has posed:
Blob lands.

Well he was teleported but Fred makes a kind of 'woosh' noise like he's doing an Iron Man style impact land. "Psshhh" Blob acts out putting on armor, ripping his cool new shirt, and shrugging his satchel full of bombs.

The Blob looks over the stretch of jungle leading towards one of the outer layers of the area. "Typical." Fred says, checking the weird new communicator Mystique handed out. Something about the thing seems.

Wrong.

Blob shakes his head and waddles forward, simply ignoring any fire.

Lorna Dane has posed:
"Polaris," emanates from the skull-faced woman as she approaches Mystique and seizes her hand. In stark contrast to the subtle electromagnetic heat that tends to accompany her, the gauntlet's cold; stiff. The armor as a whole's bigger than she is: half an inch taller and substantially wider, heavier; the gauntlet's no exception as it engulfs the shapeshifter's hand.

"It's Polaris right now."

Engulfs, and squeezes-- not to crush, but to hang on for dear life.

"Be safe," she then says, looking up and casting brisk glances around the room; for a moment, there's tenderness in her voice. Love; concern.

Just for a moment, though.

"And be decisive," follows, falling from her lips like molten steel.

Cain Marko has posed:
Ah, poor Fred. Juggernaut himself might have picked up on that slightly sullen tone in his voice over the comm systems via his patched in link to the meeting.

He shrugs.

"Gotta learn t'handle the vacuum of space buddy." he muses to himself. Maybe next time. ..Maybe he can suggest a workout regime for him.

"Believe it or not...I'm walkin' on air...." he sings to himself absently, still waiting for the mission to begin.

But he stills his tribute song as Magneto approaches and the charge up begins. It's go time.

His mood, however, becomes more muted as Magneto speaks to him...reminding him of words that were passed between them. Juggernaut is silent for a few seconds before he cuts his gaze to the troubled figurehead and after another heavy beat he says, "I will. I keep my word..."

There's another pause and then he shakes his head, the gesture clear within the depths of his helmet as he adds to his equally aged living WMD...

"IBut I can't promise I can keep 'em safe from themselves ...."

Seems like he also heard some things stated that didn't sit well over those comm channels.

But then...he's off.

The power of Cyttorak boils within him, urged up by both the Avatar and the being that dwells within and without. Crimson energy crackles to life around him, mingling with the raging surge of power enveloping his cage and turning him into a bright burning star that rips violently into the atmosphere, searing a brief gaping wound into the atmosphere from the force of his passing, sending an explosive shockwave encircling the globe. From his vantage point time seems to slow and the world distorts around him. Instinct alone gives him enough time to crank a massive arm back, movements bending, breaking and ripping through the bindings of his containment field like so much twine as he readies to add the force of a punch only he can muster alongside the actual impact itself. There is a quick thought:

o O (Man - it must be a pain to be The Flash...)

And an instant later earthquake warning systems are triggered countries away as The Juggernaut, The Exemplar of Physical Power, The Avatar of Destruction, strikes the targeted landing zone with something akin to a localized apocalyptic event.

Spiral has posed:
Spiral stretches all her arms, bending at the waist while she does a slow rotation. Like a radar dish doing a full 360 degree sweep. It might come off like some sort of dancing spider who sees themselves in a mirror. She's limber, and there's nary a popping of a joint from her spinal column. The sounds come when she cracks her knuckles of each hand. Bubble wrap popping sounds better.

A wringling of fingers and a hip shimmy and she's ready to get her fur-lined boots in motion. She drawls, as an aside, "If it goes cosmic cube-shaped for you, and you need a Hail Mary...say my name and mean it. I'll hear it no matter what. And I'll probably respond."

A small sigh as the anticipation is putting Antmen in her pants. "I love the smell of devastation in the morning."

Spiral hums in her throat and starts to move in every growing rotations of limbs and body, pirouetting in place as she coaxes the magic to do as she Wills. Magic nimbus' of energy encircle her wrists like bracelets for a cosmic rave. An echo mirrors this over the heads over those of her team that require transport. They're almost like angelic halos, though these expand in circumference to hula-hoops. Replicate, oscillate and hang like hoops of Damocles over each individuals heads. "Smoke 'em if you've got 'em!" And she drops the portals over each individuals with each swipe of her arms. Concentrating on timing just right, so they don't get pancaked, but rather fashionably late(r).

She tries to add a little flair to each exit portal, because it's hard to resist showmanship after arranging Entrances for Mojo's excessive demands.

Azazel has posed:
Azazel stepped forward toward his group, he turned to regard Mystique and said something to her in an abyssal tongue. "Dask veyas be da meeyanoon. Dask beyan seeah dae, vrix cal a mathan."

He looked across his team and nodded. Azazel held out red hands with black lacquered nails.

"When you are ready, form a circle with me."

The group vanishes in eddies of flame and smoke.

The group appears in free fall and hurtling toward the Earth at terminal velocity!

Its black.

Its cold.

Its hard to breath, and the rushing air is deafening.

Each teammate screams toward the Earth like a bullet until the demon ensnarls them abruptly in arms, legs and tail and they vanish from view.

Individually they are placed in an optimal tactical location according to their abilities.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
There is chaos, and then there is the pandemonium that arrival of the Juggernaut /in/ the warehouse causes. The land shakes forever, ripples spreading out from the impact sight, both across the land and down into it.

Immediately an alarm sounds, loud enough to echo through the jungle and scare the birds out of the trees. Those not trapped by the collapse of the roof or fallen machinery begin picking themselves up and going for their weapons. The workers manning the machines aren't armored, but they go for weapons all the same, ready to defend the place if they have to... well most do, a few just scream and start running into the jungle.

Two of the three Sentinel's at the back of the room come to life, lights igniting the room and damage, as they both start moving toward whatever it was that just came through the roof. They seem to move just fine, no balance troubles, no hesitation, starting out at a walk, and them moving into a run. One leaps into the air and out of the warehouse, the other continues on a trajectory toward Juggernaut. The third remains where it was, no signs of movement or life from it.

In the jungle the guards that had been patrolling hear the alarm sound (the deaf can hear the alarm sound) and swing into action. With minimal effort, the individual groups spread out in the trees move to join up, forming ten man groups. Several of these groups head toward the factory, a few others begin a broad sweep of the trees, looking for signs of life that shouldn't be there.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Alas, first impressions do not necessarily hold true. The things are moving smoothly, which means that the pilots are trained or there are enough support systems inside to make the transition to pilotingthe giant humanoid easier. But if they have the normal weapon layout of most Sentinels.. Weapons will be turret based, but primarily operating along the forward arc, and require direct positioning to target. Monet has fought the full 'size' Sentinels a few times, so she goes for a normal tactic.

A quick loop up and over parallel to the heavy unit at high speed, which would be intended to have it's turrets going to target her. Whatever they were - missiles, popop blasters, fist cannons, eyebeams.. The intent was to get them focused at her coming in from one angle of attack.

Then, takinga dvantage of the psionically enhanced flight that she had, she would spin over on a dime and launch herself in a completely opposite direction, intent on going in an arc to slide along towards the back of the unit, intending to flank it. This would hopefully result in all the blasters being out of position to target her..

And hopefully if the weapons were tracking her, leavin git open to the others to strike at without being shot at.

Martinique Wyngarde has posed:
Martinique Wyngarde starts shooting. Once people are coming out, either fleeing the chaos and destruction, or coming out to meet it head-on. She starts leveling and shooting. Bam. Splat. Bam. Splat. Headshots, center of mass shots. A few near misses. But that's what the Bazooka is for.

What would be fear and nerves at the unnatural disaster of Juggernaut's impact, turns into sheer panic as they're being shot down from an invisible assassin.

Mary Seward has posed:
Those who were sent to scope out the trees would find one woman waiting for them. They could hear the rustling movements in the trees, though no figure making themselves visible. Just eerie sounds and a strange chill in the air. One might be able to catch a bat flapping it's wings.

Suddenly, she strikes, picking off men one by one, grabbing and snatching them off from behind. She moves too fast for their guns, and their eyes to follow.

But, eventually, she makes herself present among them.

"Hey, boys..." Her mouth spews fresh red blood. It runs from her smiling snarl.



Her body shifts and cracks, before taking on a massive beastial form. Some kind of werewolf-looking thing.

" Thus, the beast lunges forward and attacks, slaughter on it's mind.

Erik Lensherr has posed:
The Juggernaut busts the proverbial bunker wide open for both teams, and Magneto is moments behind with another wildcard for the Brotherhood's shock and awe assault and rescue. Rather than descending like a metahuman cruise missile himself, the Master of Magnetism announces his arrival in the form of the long, low, bone-vibrating whistle of perhaps a dozen keenly forged, densely tempered rods of alloyed iron and carbon lattice.

Superheated by the upper atmosphere, accelerated to a velocity as carefully calculated yet intuitive as the Juggernaut's impact was, one by one in quick succession the bolts from the celestial beyond careen inexorably downward on alarmingly precise, one might even say uncanny, target. Power cells, reinforced doorways that still stand in the lower floor of the stronghold, several of those paramilitant groups responding in the jungles.

Where they hit the first, or the last, the explosion is akin to a satchel of grenades, a churning of earth and rock; the utter vaporization of a comrade who's suddenly little more than a liquid shower. The sentinels? Nothing about those beasts' outer hull is liable to be penetrated, and perhaps that is to their woe; the superheated rods flatten, transferring all that kinetic energy in the impact against the ascending sentinel and the one Monet targets. Strikes that could make a militant Kryptonian proud, simultaneously making vulnerabilities for each teammate on the assault and cutting down numbers and coordination... considerably

All throughout the complex, on every encrypted enemy comm, chatter cuts out in overwhelming static. Attempts to raise one another are met instead with inhuman, cybernetic crackles; with the gutteral roars of a demon, birthed somewhere deep within the radio waves and given breath. Shock and Awe in its purest application.

Victor Creed has posed:
Somewhere, quietly in the back, Victor Creed listens. He isn't much of a talker, so what do you expect?

Victor Creed has posed:
The image of the Juggernaut hurtling down towards the ground is one of the most brilliant things that Victor Creed has ever beheld. "The crazy bastard is pulling it off," he mutters to himself, spraying the blood of the last human on patrol that he found on his skirt along the exterior of the perimeter. It was fun. Hunting, stalking, finding them before they knew what was happening. There would be no mistaking what is going on now, of course. Not when the unstoppable force comes down from the heavens.

Victor crouches down and wraps his fingers to brace himself for the shockwave he knows is about to wash over him. The only difference between him and the flatscans is that he knows it is coming.

And he can do something about it.

Fred Dukes has posed:
Dudes in masks and body armor shoot at the Blob.

This works just about as well as you expect. "Hello humans!" Blob thunders, grabbing a tree and casually pushing it over. He reaches out to grab one after the whole ass tree falls. "You'll tell me where your computer is, yes? We need it to conquer earth, ha ha!"

Cain Marko has posed:
It could have been much, much worse. On their own, Magneto or Juggernaut could have singularly decimated this entire region with an alpha strike. Working in concert is ...beyond overkill....but also would have been counter productive given the information needed and the mutants that must be freed.

But that doesn't mean that his impact was -not- utterly and completely destructive despite the deliberate near miss. The shockwaves continue rippling outward in all directions disturbing long slumbering fautlines and sending waves of seismic turbulence out into the jungles causing plumes of debris and dust to pile into the air for miles around.

Out of this destruction emerges The Juggernaut, a massive chunk of the earth the size of a building balanced on one upraised hand as if he were simply an oversized waiter arriving with overdue entrees. The debris having been ripped up from the decimated region by the goliath as the parting dust cloud also reveals the enormous canyon he carved into the area after his impact.

The great mass shadows him as he tilts back and takes careful aim for the emerging Sentinels as rocks, soil, trees, and more continue to rain down across the area. A few bodies as well, falling from a high altitude. Soldiers and mercenaries unfortunante enough to have been caught in the initial impact blast.

"Bring me the big boys!" he yells over the comm link after seeing Monet darting here and there in the air. Didn't he just kick her ribs in the other day?

"Between Doombots and mini Sentinels, I got a bone to pick with robots! Them damn Three Laws aint worth jack!!"

He braces his feet against the ground, splintering the earth yet more so as the pressure of his movements roars into the ground....and then he sends the massive pile of debris hurtling through the air like an olympic shot put, aiming for the largest of the Sentinels.

Spiral has posed:
Spiral comes down after everyone else has been sent ahead. The bruisers can soak up the initial repercussions and potential concussions. Emerging from a circular slice of suppurating dimensional magic, each hand drawing forth a different blade.

Whatever she was expecting, her imagination fails to deliver when she witnesses the actual devastation and aftershocks. "Nice."

She doesn't waste much more time rubbernecking, and is dashing along the environment, greedily gobbling up the sensory stimulus. The nearest threats are treated to a double-whammy of stunning spells of force and then mortal wounds and crippling strikes via her many blades. She's going at this like a kid in a candy store. Not necessarily finishing off one snack before leaving the wrappers and wasted bits in favour of the next treat in sight.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
The Sentinel that jumped outside lands with a shake of the ground, but it was nothing compared to Juggernaut's arrival. Several weapons make themselves known, coming from enclosed areas in the shoulders, forearms, and even one on the top of the head.

Arm cannons are aimed at Monet and launch small homing missiles that start their way toward her with a beeping sound that steadily gets louder the closer they get. The shoulder canons aim for Magneto, and manage to fire off just moments before the impact. Oddly, the damage done exposes inner workings, but not nearly as badly as one might have expected.

Once a target is known in the trees, several of the units rush toward Martinique, guns drawn. As they start to drop from head shots, each activates an energy shield that wraps around their bodies from the left forearm of their armor. Still they charge the hill en masse.

Those who run into Mary were not expecting anything like her. Most had trained with the concept of mutants, but none of them had heard anything about mutants to ate people. The screams that ripped from them were loud, but the alarm drown them out. The armor offered some protection, even from the beasts claws, but in the end it was no match. Sure, they tried to shoot at her, they weren't completely lost to insanity and fear, and it's possible they may have actually hit her... but that didn't seem to matter, and that was extremely worrisome.

Really there was no way to react to a creature with a full sized tree as a weapon other than screaming, shooting, hitting, it having no effect and thus trying to run. "WE NEED HEAVY ARTILLARY!" One screams as he attempts to book it toward the warehouse.

Inside as Juggernaut makes himself known, hunk of earth and all, the Sentinel slides to a stop and opens fire on him. Missiles and bullets are rained down on the force of nature like April showers in spring time. His appearance has another effect, it sends a large number of unarmored beings bolting for any escape route out of the room.

Two arms were normal, the guards had expected two armed mutants, and now they were dealing with a six armed monstrosity, a werewolf looking thing, a dude floating around launching metal and waves of energy... this was a bad day, and some were starting to cut their loses and make for the jungles, armor and all.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
The small micro-missiles are launched at her. Monet goes to arc about, and her eyes widen as she feels herself flying just a -bit- slower as she approaches the thing and loops about. That's nearly enough for the missiles to catch up with her before she gets out of the immediate range of the suppressor. The missiles are still after her. But they're micro-missiles - the Sentinel is not going to be firing off mortar rounds at close range in the jungle, after all. They're more of an anti-vehicle scale, likely. The missiles are, however, small enough and fast enough to actually target her specifically rather than indiscriminately spraying about the area. The weapons are however goingto have some safeties - no one wants to blow up one oftheir fellow humans when fighting mutants.

Monet goes to scan the missiles, backing away at roughly their launch speed. They're not railgun rounds so their acceleration and top speed are limited. Their approach to her gives her an idea of how fast they can go and how well they can turn. She goes to rapidly back away from them, letting them keep thier lock on of her.

She evaluates how quickly the suppression field kicked in, and how far away it was and how much she felt it.

Then she's coming to a stop in midair as the missiles close to her, right outside of thier blast range, flying towards the Sentinel at slightly over Mach 3.. The missiles turning and tracking after her as she zooms along. Right past the torso of the thing, arcing downwards as the suppression field kicks in.

Which has her bouncing along the ground hard but surviving on sheer inertia to take her out of the zone..

Hopefully with all the missiles slamming into the 'face' of the Sentinel, the least armored part with all the electronics and sensors.

Martinique Wyngarde has posed:
Martinique Wyngarde curses under her breath when there are COUNTERMEASURES. What is this? Well, the good news is, this is the plan. The more coming after her, the fewer are harassing the inside team. So, she drops the sniper rifle, and picks up the bazooka.

"Back off," she mutters, as the characteristic FWOOSH sends a rocket at the lead unit coming after her. Shields are great against a projectile, but against an explosion, the laws of physics will not be denied!

Sure, it won't stop them, but it'll knock 'em down, and that gives her enough time to get a pop tart into her mouth and break camp. Best case, they're led on a wild goose chase and never do any good until the good guys win.

Victor Creed has posed:
While Martinique is more than capable of evading the suppression fire aimed at her, certainly after her explosive retort, she may find that slowly and steadily, the attacks coming her way begin to thin out. Along a certain trajectory. Occassionally, a grunt or some sort of clatter can be heard over the firing of munitions, until eventually, as she is racing away from the scene, a shape drops down from one of the trees nearby.

"I like your style."

A tongue curls over the blood soaked fangs of Victor Creed. "I can go high, you go low, we meet in the middle?"

Mary Seward has posed:
Mary Seward has just gotten done slaughtering her way through the band of stooges that tried hounding her in the trees. She's covered in blood, fur, and her own sense of boredom. She's on a murder high and she's not quite ready to come down yet. Luckily for her, she can see more sheep to the slaughter come rushing in. "Oh, BOY!" She cheers like a kid in a candy store. Which functionally she was.

Shifting from beast to mist, she soars through the air, finding a crowd of goons heading over. She takes physical form as she floats above them all.

"Heard you apes call yourselves the Friends of Humanity...Well, just so you know..."

She soars down, grabbing two guards with little effort and lifting them up by their collars. "Anyone who'd consider themselves friends to the STINK that is humankind is an ENEMY of mine!" She cackles like the madwoman she is, tossing the two meatbags across the air. She descends on the rest, her speed and strength befitting her on her one-woman massacre.

Erik Lensherr has posed:
To design Sentinel technology without accounting for Magneto would be incompetent madness, atop hubris. So it is that the mutant-tracking missile technology proves quite impressively shielded against the Master of Magnetism's direct control.

Not so shielded, however, is the air through which the missiles travel to seek said mutant Master of Magnetism. Condensation of water molecules within the air yield two molecules of hydrogen per, alongside the natural concentrations that suddenly accumulate towards a very attractive point between Magnus and the missiles.

A crackling, subtle yet brilliant luminescence fills the sky, a new and super-powered cloud over the jungle. The projectiles pass through that point, and are utterly consumed in an eruption of fire that sets off their own payload in a voluminous, resounding shockwave of failed genocide. Through the fire, through the flames, Magneto descends towards the hill where Martinique cuts down the responding patrols.

Those who have organized, buffed, and begun a charge to overwhelm her position suddenly find a new complication: as the RPG round disrupts their formation, Sabretooth plucking the perimeter, and then as the squads try to reorganize to cut off the pair's escape... the Earth beneath their feet churns as the entire breadth of ferrous elements within the rock itself rumble; then shear free.

Soil, rock, and flesh alike are torn in a rising, rolling ring of sundering, harsh-edged rock. Friction and the sheer intensity of the forces used to sever and manipulate the manifestation leave sharp, hewn edges red hot and raging hotter as the jungle itself hungrily devours them in an increasingly expansive sinkhole; into the gaping maw of a wrathful, ravenous Gaea.

Fred Dukes has posed:
"Where are your little robots?" Blob thunders, putting on the show as hard as he can. It's hard to talk over the absolute mess the others are making; he can feel Juggernaut's blows and Magneto's abuse of nature itself causes his fillings to shake and grind painfully.

He follows the guards wailing for artillery, working to make it towards the warehouse. Blob is slow but relentless, deciding that he can at least burn a warehouse down tonight.

Cain Marko has posed:
Soldiers dare to open fire on Juggernaut now, thudding projectiles into his armor and meaty flesh alike. The armor rejects it and pings it off and his flesh repels it even more effortlessly. The armor is just really there for show, identification and other esoteric abilities after all. Juggernaut ignores them though. He's no interest in the small fry regardless of Mystique's orders. This includes the unarmored people running away. Small fry. Let 'em run or others deal with them.

Of more immediate concern is the destruction caused by his projectile attack and the raining down of debris as his attack is blasted by the Sentinel's assault with the missile continuing towards him along with the Sentinels own rounds of artillery.

"Aww..." rumbles Juggernaut in disappointment as his first attack didn't land home as fully as he'd desired.

Anything else he says is lost to the blossoming fire flower and explosion of concrete , dirt and metal as the missiles rain home.

For a half beat after the noise of the aftermath of the assault bears down there is silence....and then The Juggernaut emerges, lumbering forward in steady earth rocking steps as additional fire comes exploding in against him. Missiles land. Rockets explode..and Juggernaut continues advancing, unperturbed, unbowed and unstoppable.

As the attacks continue to rain down he picks up the pace, his footfalls kicking off seismometers far from this location as bears in on the Sentinel faster and faster.. Unfortunantely for the suppression technology --- he is an incarnate force of magic. Kinda hard to be prepared for that.

"You gonna make me say it..aren't you? You gonna make me say the catchphrase??"

He leaps, suddenly springing into the air with the ground exploding into ruin behind him and following in a wide arc from the force of his leap. He draws a huge arm back, flexing and bulging the muscle of the limb up to give the impression of mountainous boulders beneath his ruddy flesh.

"CATCHPHRASE!" he thunders just before he takes the swing, attempting to slam his fist with a strike that'd make Hulk grimace.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Taking it's own missiles to the face, the Sentinel staggers back several steps, arms flailing to help keep it balanced and upright. When it finally manages to keep itself up right, the soft squishy human inside the thing is partly exposed. The weapon on the things head is non-operational, as is one of the shoulder cannons. There are flashing lights and warning alarms sounding from it, but still it turns toward Monet and starts stomping after her. What the pilot didn't expect was for her to swoop in, offer a brief smile, yank him out of the sentinel, and toss him toward the ground. In moments he is on his feet and running, unfortunately right into Mary.

A boozoka?! No, it doesn't stop them, but it does successfully knock several down, and kill several more. The concussion of the rocket landing knocking some of the armor's defenses off line, including the shield, meant some of them ended up in pieces on the ground... a lot of them ended up in pieces on the ground. In the end, only six are left laying on the ground and able to pick themselves back up.

There would have been more had Victor not come to gloriously slash his way through from behind. The armor was primarily designed against weapons and mutant energy based attacks, so though it successfully slowed his claws down, it didn't stop them, and that was a downfall on their part.

The last group of ten that had just emerged at the base of hill were just in time for Magento's attack. How does one dodge the earth beneath their feet? The sharp rocks and earth tearing at their armor and then their flesh, the screams echoing through the jungle as the last warning to any others that now would be a good time to become traitors and run away.

Run away, run from the force of nature! Run... right into a blood covered, murder high vampire with an agenda on her mind. One of the guards has just enough of a mind to fire off his energy weapon at Mary, aiming for her head, just before he is life flashes before his eyes and he is lunch, or is it dinner? Perhaps a Snack?

How long it might have been that these humans were out here in the jungles, training to fight against mutants was unknown... clearly, it had not been long enough. Even as Juggernaut takes everything thrown at him, the second Sentinel is switching tactics. As the force of nature comes in with a punch, the right arm forms a sword of pure energy and the left forms a shield. It takes one swing of the sword at Juggernaut, having expected the dampener to have some kind of effect, and then finds itself flying backwards through the factory like a rag doll tossed into the winds of a hurricane... a massive caved in dented hole in the chest.

Without even trying, Juggernaut manages to send the Sentinel flying /into/ the one that was still standing at the back of the room. The energy sword still humming on the right arm cuts through the lone standing Sentinel like a hot knife through butter, the two halves falling to the ground in a heap with the punched one. Crackling pops of electricity spark repeatedly from both halves, setting off a chain reaction with the one that landed on it. A warning alarm starts whooping, and in a matter of seconds, both sentinels explode sending unfired ordnance launching off in numerous directions at once.

Even as Blob makes his way into the warehouse, there are only a few humans left running toward the exit and find themselves face to face with a large mutant wielding a tree. It really was just not their night. They escaped the falling ceiling, the clash between the Juggernaut and a Sentinel, only to come to an end by tree... life sucked.

Mary Seward has posed:
Mary Seward hears the charge of the weapon, and disperses into mist yet again just as it fires. He immediately finds himself face to face with her once she re-solidifies.

Subsequent screams would be silenced by the alarms. He was dessert.

Having stuffed herself on blood, Mary had simply one thing left to do. Empty that satchel of hers.

Her mist form would make it's entrance in the building, whizzing past Fred and the unfortunate saps stuck with him. From that point on, planting on her bombs willy-nilly was super simple.

Definitely more boring compared to what she'd gotten up to outside.

Erik Lensherr has posed:
A pair of fleeing guards simply collapse into rapidly putrifying goo within their armor as their bodies swiftly oxidize; as if they aged decades in a span of moments. White hot energy burning like torches in his eyes, the armored form of Magneto descends the rest of the way towards the ground, surveying the battlefield less with his eyes as with his mutant sixth-- perhaps even seventh senses.

"Excellent work." The Brotherhood comms are, mysteriously, free of the Master of Magnetism's ongoing interference, jamming nearly every other transmitter or recorder in the area. Spiral, obviously, notwithstanding. "Gather up anything that looks even vaguely pertinent, round up the genocidal stragglers, and let us be gone before anyone even grasps what happened here." Including the squads and giant robots they just took apart.

Energies surging to his fingertips, a pulsing wave distorting the air around him, Magneto then turns his attention from recon to deep, obsessive, wrathful analysis. The Sentinel that fell outside the stronghold? It comes apart at every nut, bolt, weld, and circuit. Not a mindless, raging destruction, no-- the Master of Magnetism deconstructs the thing down to its most minute detail in mere moments, as the duo of cyberpaths hungrily devour every byte of data the process yields for them in turn.

Fred Dukes has posed:
Ah, the warehouse.

Most of the humans are gone, but the equipment's here. That's the problem with Sentinels. It's dead easy to get a factory going. This probably had nothing to do with the Mutant Town attack, huh. Or maybe it did, in some subtle way.

Blob didn't care. Blob walked his way as close to the center of the warehouse as possible. He was supposed to set the charges carefully and set them off out of the building, and here's what else he can do. Because Blob's invincible.

Blob rips the detonator on the charges, simply standing in the middle of the massive, warehouse ruining building.

"Took care of it." Blob said over the coms, his shoulders on fire "We done here? I need a shower."

Cain Marko has posed:
It's not quite a 'superhero' landing ....but Juggernaut rebounds from the force of his own impact and then descends back down towards the rubble strewn ground to land with the force of a tank falling from the top of a five story building.

He crouches, only partially bending the knee at the impact and then straightens back up to his full height, physique creaking and armor groaning as it struggles about his frame and adjusts to fit his modulating immensity.

"Huh..." he muses, looking on at the destruction caused by his strike and then he nods in approval....and then nods again as Magneto's voice flickers to life over the Brotherhood commlink.

There's nothing more to be said or done as far as he's concerned. He turns and begins making his way out of the warehouse so as to be ready to be retrieved with the rest by the mutant teleporters.

"On my way." he rumbles into the comm link, "...Nicely done...and I won't even charge extra for that railgun maneuver because of how fun it was."

He begins to make his way out of the ruined structure - only for his whole world to flash white as Fred detonates the explosions just as he begins to enter the center portion of the warehouse from where he'd struck down the Sentinels.

Hey what the--!!"

His voice is lost to the roaring explosion as it swells up and fills what's left of the building with its ruin..and when all is said and done and the fire and debris blasts away, Juggernaut is left standing there wide eyed and staring at Fred, dumbfounded for a few seconds.

He then growls out, finally, clearly annoyed. "...NIce one.."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Only moments after the facility attack group teleports away, the remainder of the factory and the complex below go up at the same moment, the explosion hungrily eating part of the jungle as the building and complex are sucked into the monolithic crater crated in the earth from the blast. Fire licks up out of the hole, desperately reaching toward the trees, wanting to take their lives before it is sucked back down and lost to the earth.

As the last of the earth settles out of the sky back to the ground, all that remains is the crater itself, and all ready the surrounding earth is trying to fall in and fill it back up. It will be a long time before wild life returns to this area, but long before that the local authorities will arrive and find nothing but a hole in the ground. They might try to dig things up, but all they will find are shards of metal, the corpses of the dead, and a mystery that will likely never be solved.