8.01

The city was in a panic. Thousands surged through the streets, a chaotic tide ignoring emergency protocols. Amidst the frenzy, Tattletale and the narrator, Skitter, navigated toward a designated parahuman rendezvous point. Civilians broke every rule, carrying luggage, pets, and even driving cars despite the strict guidelines.

They reached a police barricade, where an officer recognized them and, after a brief exchange with his colleague, handed them papers marked “Parahuman Response.” These papers directed them to a nondescript six-story building near the coast, where a gathering of capes was already in progress. Dragon, in a massive mechanical suit, stood guard facing the sea, her attention fixed on a distant storm cloud – a harbinger of the approaching threat: Leviathan.

A thunderclap heralded the arrival of Alexandria and her team, followed shortly by a group of teenage heroes. Among them was a striking figure: a metal-skinned boy with intricate details etched into his form, bearing the scars of past battles. He clapped Skitter on the shoulder, a silent acknowledgment of their temporary alliance.

Inside the building, a diverse assembly of capes filled the lobby. Empire Eighty-Eight, the Travelers, and numerous heroes, including the local Wards and New Wave, were present. The Protectorate’s heavy hitters – Armsmaster, Miss Militia, and Legend – conferred quietly. The room buzzed with a mix of tension and forced bravado, the reality of their impending battle hanging heavy in the air.

Skitter observed the crowd, noting familiar faces and rivalries. Eidolon, one of the most powerful capes in the world, stood apart, gazing out the window at the approaching storm. Skitter felt a pang of isolation, ignored by her former teammates, the Undersiders, and facing a cold shoulder from Sundancer.

More capes continued to arrive, including Narwhal of the Guild, whose striking appearance drew stares. Legend and Armsmaster stepped forward, silencing the room. Legend addressed the crowd, thanking Dragon and Armsmaster for their early warning and expressing hope for a “good day.” However, he soberly reminded them of the grim statistics: one in four of them would likely die before the day’s end.

The atmosphere in the room was one of tense anticipation. A collection of powerful individuals, heroes and villains alike, gathered to face a common enemy. The approaching storm, a visible manifestation of Leviathan, loomed large, a constant reminder of the deadly battle that awaited them. Despite the fear and uncertainty, there was a sense of unity, a shared purpose that transcended their usual conflicts. They were all in this together, for better or worse.