The New God Project

 

The PantheonThe New God Project:

By: JBillusion

© JBillusion Writing – JBillusion Writing 2016-2017

Tac,tac,tac a keyboard sounded in a lavish office. Illuminated only by a small desktop and the glow of a computer monitor. Scrawled across the screen were a seemingly endless string of letters and numbers. Graphs dangled apart from them every few pages as the screen flew ever down. Pictures eventually followed. Men and women wearing masks and flashy costumes flitted past the screen. Letters far bigger than the seemingly meaningless fluff indicated names. Lilandra, Everyman, Judoka. Eventually the mad rush of images on the screen stopped. The words “Helios” were spelled out at the very top of the screen, under them sat a picture. A figure floating in mid air next to a building. It was a man wearing white tights, with golden lines cascading from the sides over his muscled chest, down each leg, and up each arm. They ended at knee length golden boots and forearm length gloves. His golden locks were long and flowing freely. A giant robot in the shape a monkey looked back indifferently, seeming more interested in the woman it held within one robotic hand. The page suddenly zoomed in. A little annotation under the picture read “1967” Helios vs. Dr.Ape. For a long time the monitor showed the page of information. The mouse still transfixed into the shape of a magnifying glass. Until the screen faded to black to reflect a very different face. It was old and haggard. Despite his age the strain his shoulders put on the green jacket her wore noted that there was plenty of strength left in the old man. With a heavy sigh he leaned back in his chair with a creak. His right hand reached up and ran his fingers through his grey hair. The other hand briefly glanced the row of badges that adorned his chest. For a second he looked down at them, a weary smile slowly spread across his lips. The phone rang.

“Hello” he said, for a few moments he nodded and then as if he had been struck he leaped up to his feet and began yelling.

“What do you mean Major Frost is out of action!” There was a slight tremble in his voice as he looked behind himself. Hanging on the wall barely illuminated at all was a poster. It had a man whose face was an icy blue, dressed in red, white, and blue tights. A star shaped snowflake adorned his right pectoral. Just above the top of his head in big bold letters it read “Major Frost wants You!” He was then snapped back to the conversation.

“Listen I don’t want any of those attention whores showing up to handle this Larry! I don’t need one of them taking a damn selfie in a restricted area. Not just that but, really? You think the Squadron, or the Rangers could handle this. They can barely stop a bank robbery, let alone something like this.”

Exhausted and slightly red in the face, the man sat back down in his chair as he listened to the possibility of other plans.

“Larry listen to me. I agree they are capable of handling this, but do you want Minerva’s men snooping around our business. Last time we got her people into a restricted area we….Yes I know it wasn’t your fault, but I’ll be damned if I let that bitch get the leg up on us again.” He tilted his head to the side to let the phone rest between his ear and his shoulder. Fingers soon found themselves rubbing his temples furiously.

“We can’t get the wizards”, he said forgoing his temple massage for a stress ball on the desk in front of him.

“I know they’re not ALL wizards. They have a knight and a Druid, but I’m not letting Ireland, England,India, and wherever the hell that rock is from in American business.” He squeezed.

“What about those guys from the previous incident.”

“Not the one with the giants, but the alien invasion.”

“Retired? The hell for? One of em wears a damn armored suit!” He squeezed the ball harder.

“Isn’t there any one? A team that isn’t out for more followers on that damn bird?”

“I know it’s called twitter Larry.” He rolled his eyes while keeping his rhythmic squeezing going.”

“We need real heroes to deal with the situation. Isn’t there anybody!?” For a second the rapid motion of his hand stopped, then dust was sent flying as the remains of the ball scattered into the air.

“THERE’S NO WAY IN HELL! I’m not calling them. Remember back in the day! How they screwed us over?”, he was walking now, quickly as he moved around his desk counting the reasons on his fingers. “The original team hurt us big time Larry. The new one isn’t much better. They have a known felon. Don’t forget about that tech guy of theirs. He’s been slinging guns to the highest bidder ever since he could walk. Their mage would rather sing kumbaya then fight.” He switched fingers. “Their Helios is crap compared to the Original. Lt. Arc is with them, but she’s been spending most of her time at the end of a bo…” He was cut off mid tirade. His motions stopped and his shoulders slumped.

“Yeah Larry they did stop him, but…” the fight seemed to leave the man as he sulked back into his chair.

“Ok I’ll call them, but if it doesn’t work were pulling those old coots out of retirement. “He hung up the phone and then sorrowfully dialed another number. “Paula, patch me through to Maria please.”

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

 Laying alone on top of a coach cloaked in covers a spanish woman watched TV. Her long black hair was tied back in a tight ponytail, that revealed her slightly angular face, but as she watched the program her features grew even sharper.“You’ll never stop us!”, a voice cried out.

“Team. Alpha pattern!”, a stern voice responded back. She became more enthralled in the action playing out in front of her. As the sound of crackling electricity boomed out of the speakers, her interest peaked. Maria went from laying down to sitting position in record time. As she did so the thick layer of covers fell off her right shoulder and exposed her white shirt. It was large and worn, as if she had been wearing it to bed for the last five years. The blue star in the center was faded and barely held any color at all.

“Arc, short circuit the conduits and, ring ring.” Just when her hazel eyes lit up at the show the ringtone of her smart phone dropped her attitude down a few pegs.

“Dammit Steel” she cursed aloud. “If this has anything to do with a tune up…I swear.” She look down at the still ringing device and saw the words emblazoned on the screen next to the image of an old phone ringing back and forth. General Redding. Her right hand immediately shot out and then paused right before it could grab the device. Her face looked pained as she slowly clenched her fingers into a fist. She squeezed tighter and tighter still as her show played in the background.

“Plan Zeta” a voice much like Maria’s spoke. The tell tale sounds of electricity again filled the room, this time accompanied by the sound of screams. They got louder and louder as she looked down at the cell phone as if it was the greatest enigma in the world. Soon the mix of electricity and screaming reached its climax with a colossal boom. Her hand shot out as if spurred on by the explosion and held it up to her ear.

“Hello?”

“What!?” She screamed, getting up from a sitting position her eyes even more focused than during the show.

“How the hell did this happen sir!” One cover still clung to her left side as she quickly moved across the living room towards another part of her home, she paused just in front of the door.

“No you listen to me general!, she roared as her hand began turning the doorknob. “The Pantheon stopped Reign and you knew how dangerous he was. The Box was the wrong place to put him. He should have been in isolation in Antarctica. Hell, you could have given him to the Russians.” Maria flung the door to what was apparently her bedroom. She rushed into the pristine room. Past the wastebasket full of folded clothes. Past the well made bed stopping just short of the closet.

“With all due respect sir I understand your position and that of what you represent, but you calling us means the situation is already fubar. I expect a full briefing before we head into action and a future favor from you.”

The door slid to the slide revealing rows of shoes, clothes, and a few boxes at the top, hurriedly the p the hanging blouses and pants were pushed to the side to reveal a pair dark blue thick denim pants, a set of tights, with a white and blue motif, a lightweight blue metal vest, and a blue mask.

“ Remember. I’m a member of The Pantheon now. I don’t take orders from you anymore.” The woman promptly pressed the red button on her cell to end the call and began frantically tapping her phone. Suddenly the telltale gleam of metal filled her peripherals. Her robotic left hand had shrugged away it’s cover cloak and reached out to grab the vest. For a few moments she just watched her limb move, flexing and wiggling in front of her. Small arcs of electricity made their way from her shoulder all the way up to the metal fingers. Maria’s attention then went back to her phone. A contact list finally popped up. Under the words “The Pantheon” it read Helios, Doc, Grant, and Steel. With a great big red button under their names. Simultaneously she grabbed hold of her gear as she pushed the button.

“God, I hope they’re not asleep.”, she thought to herself as she laid out her costume.

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