Memoirs of a RAFian

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER SIX:
Corporate Takeover

Joel Manson straightened up as he spoke before the camera. All he needed to do was spout some platitudes and subtly empty rhetoric to satisfy these stupid cattle. The Leviathans would eventually subjugate them all. There only purpose was food for them, that was to be their eventual destiny.

Which was why he came down hard on those Leviathans who couldn't control themselves and their hunger. He would not abide by any bad news. He would not suffer any needless setbacks. He would not tolerate repeated failure. Repeated failure meant bibbing to his underlings. What was bibbing, you may ask? It's the act of a Leviathan eating itself, leaving nothing but black goo behind.

But, Joel Mansion tried to avoid this. There was only a hundred and thirteen of them. Probably too many to outmatch these dumb humans, but if he reduced their numbers too much, it would obviously make the final goal all that much more difficult.

Anyway, he was using the real Joel Mansion's resources to launch a ruthless corporate takeover agenda, focusing on the food industry. He kept the true reasoning for this agenda to himself and his Leviathan underlings. Any human stupid enough to stumble onto his scheme gets copied and then eaten. They have the appetites that outshine Taxxons, after all, though they can exercise more control over it.

But, all in all, Joel was pleased. His plan, his scheme, was coming along nicely. There hasn't yet been any major foul ups, as he had Augustus working on a very important project, a very important experiment. If he failed, he would have to bib him.

But then he came upon something that displeased him. He had one rule -- no monsters. And he considered aliens on par with them, as monsters were competition for his food resources. Unneeded competition. He would have to eliminate them along with every alien, unintentionally and unknowingly adopting a Knight of Humanity creed, but with more perverse motives.

He became aware of them, the Knights of Humanity, in part because of the real Joel's vague knowledge of them. And he had access to all of his memories and thoughts before possessing him, before altering his physical body permanent, by "blending" with him. Before Joel was his unwilling permanent vessel. The Knights, as stupid and delicious as these humans may be, might be of advantage to him, if they do, indeed, succeed in their aim. It would be one less problem he would have to worry about.

But Joel didn't know of the Knights absolute incompetence about going about doing this. A lot of it was just empty and idle talk from a bunch of drunken bigots, and those that were serious about it, were just ineffectual at doing anything long-term. Their strict hierarchy and inner politics was also a bit of a problem, but since neither the real Joel nor Castiel knew about any of this, so neither would the Leviathan leader.

But the thing Joel concerned himself with more is the forum. RAF. The original Joel knew of them, because he would listen to Bern Bridges from time to time, though not buying into the propaganda, just using it as a useful tool. Granted, Joel didn't know much about what they could do -- but he was confident that they couldn't stop him or his brethren. They couldn't kill them, he knew -- despite not realizing or knowing that Cloak had knowledge of them. Granted, from another realm, but still.

They could be a threat to his plans -- not him personally, of course, but his schemes and plans? Yes. Even the best laid plans could fall apart with one foul-up. He could allow that, despite waiting millenia for this, he was getting rather impatient. He had already realized that they could prove to be a thorn in his side, and set them back who knows how long?

They would have to be taken care of. Cyrus wasn't doing anything right now. He'd send him. He wouldn't need a contingent of lower Leviathans, he should be able to handle the lot of them himself. That'll keep him busy and happy.

And fed.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER SEVEN:
Knock, Knock!

Cyrus thought this was a waste of his talents, but he hadn't anything better to do than get rid of these possible thorns in the boss's side. He was also given the responsibility of copying at least one of these lowly creatures. To discredit them, of course. But would be the point when they'd all be dead? Filling snacks, hopefully, but dead just same. Why would it be necessary to discredit so-to-be dead RAFians.

Might as well get this over with so he could be used for more worthy missions. Rather than this stupid little errand.

He came up to the forum, disguised as a vagabond-- which he had proceeded to eat with cheese sauce, after copying him. Didn't really make him taste all that better, but it was sustenance. He discovered that he was barred entry -- some sort of invisible barrier prevented him from accessing the forum proper.

He pounded on the force field. He couldn't just muscle his way in he found. Not too surprising, as he was strong but not yellow sun-empowered Kryptonian strong. He wasn't as strong as a To'kustar, but his kind managed. Managed like willful Taxxons.

This had quickly gone from a mere obligation that he didn't like, to irritation. How was he to complete his mission if he couldn't get in the front door? Would he have to be like an uncouth demon and use an alternative entrance. Cyrus considered his options, when projectile of golden-scarlet energy shaped like Guile's sonic boom attack in "Street Fighter" hit him square in the chest.

"Don't waste your time on disguises, Leviathan," a voice said, cold and dark. Cyrus couldn't see the owner from which it issued. Which proved that it was a mistake to do this at night. "Yes, I know what you are."

"That doesn't make things easier for you," he said. "Tonight, I dine on human soup*."

"I am not a human," the voice said, as the cloaked figure was silhouetted in the sparse moonlight. "Nor am I angel or demon."

"Then you're not worth dealing with," Cyrus scoffed dismissively. "I'd eradicate you, whoever you are, and your entire kind, but I'm preoccupied with more important matters."

"It's a wonder that you can stand up," Cloak said, "with bloated ego."

"Stand aside, you bottom-feeding mutation," he said, still with that dismissive air. "I've got business in this place."

Cloak ****ed his head to one side, unsure if this was amusing or just pathetic egotism. "You really don't know who I am, do you?" he said.

"You are a rancid little tidbit unfit for a proper meal," the Leviathan said.

Cloak couldn't help himself, he laughed aloud. "Eat me? You honestly think you can eat me?"

At this, Cyrus expanded his powerful jaws, as his two tongues flopped around, framed by darkness that the scarce moonlight dare not touch in what may have seemed like a terrifying display to most laymen. But Cloak's eyes easily penetrated the gloom and he had been doing this kind of stuff for too long to be easily intimidated. Or impressed.

"Is that all, Leviathan?" Cloak said, tone flat, clearly unamused. "You think some massive set of chompers will be enough to impress me? I know about your Taxxon-like hunger and -- what? What? You don't know what a Taxxon is? Now that's just sad."

Then it charged forward, but it didn't expect Cloak to move as fast and with as much feline finesse as he did. But then the Leviathan realized that he was bound in a long length of golden chains of some sort. He tried to break them, and was startled that he couldn't. He couldn't even extend his jaws.

"Don't bother trying to break them," Cloak said, bluffing very convincingly, "they are able to bind gods. What chance do you have to break them."


* Anyone get this reference?

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER EIGHT:
Project Compliance

Joel spent the day pretending to be this stupid human. It was an inane sort of day, but his resources were useful. And that was really the only useful part of it, as his memory and knowledge weren't anything to write home about.

And he had to bib two underlings for caving into their ravenous hunger and began to feed indiscriminately. This was a clear violation of his decree that they control themselves, lest ruin all his great, well-laid plans. Still, their numbers were limited, but they would make do with 124 Leviathans.

But, in any case, his plan seemed to be running more or less smoothly. The acquisition of businesses in the food industry was going swimmingly, and Joel now owned enough to put the next part of his plan in motion.

He had directed Lysandre to concoct a very specific additive. It was intended to make humans that ate it fatter, more compliant. Rather like cows, which was fitting because that's all the Leviathans, Joel included, saw them as. The additive would be placed on burgers, and delivered to an unsuspecting populace as a "secret sauce". He had placed Giovanni in the Food and Drug Administration to help streamline this process.

Of course, this wasn't the only matter that needed seeing to. Joel wanted their food stock -- humans -- to be free of undesirable qualities, such as diseases, especially the debilitating variety. So another company he -- or at least the original Joel -- owned, Million-Dollar Pharmaceuticals, was working to cure the various diseases like cancer and AIDS to better make sure the strength of their food resource.

But it wasn't enough to just stop there, oh no. Joel knew about vampires and other villainous monsters that used humans as a food source. They were competition -- but Joel didn't see them as equal competition for food, however. It was more like when mice get into the foodstuffs of people, not really competition but vermin. Pests.

And how do people deal with rats and mice? They use rat poison. But Joel wasn't one to set up traps to bait these insignificant creatures to kill them. He had decided to use a concoction that would make the blood and flesh of these humans toxic to anything but Leviathans. They would use that as another additive to the food.

Because humans only destiny was to be the snack food of the Leviathans. That was their only real use, their only real purpose.

"Um, s-sir?" some said, behind Joel. It was one of the lower ranked Leviathans who "blended" with a scrawny teenager, but had soon adopted the personage of a tweedy scientist with a noticeable stutter when afraid.

"What is it Galahad?" he said, in a voice of resounding but quiet authority.

"Um . . . um . . ." he stammered, terrified.

"It's bad news, isn't it?" he said, in a rather disaffected, disinterested tone of voice that recalled Yellow Diamond. The lesser Leviathan stammered some more, but was silenced at Joel's next statement. "Galahad, I trust you know how I feel about bad news."

"I, uh --" he said. He was almost trembling. He was absolutely horrified with bringing this information to Joel. He felt that he would be bibbed for sure.

Joel's patience was rapidly running thin. "Galahad, stop stammering right this moment or I'll eat you, myself!!"

This was a far worse fate than bibbing in many ways. So he quickly managed to regain his composure, and said, "S-sir, there is a problem."

"I gathered that much," he said, not bothering to conceal his scorn. "What exactly is this problem?"

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER NINE:
Intensive Interrogation

"You won't get me to talk," Cyrus said.

"Even when we can kill you?" said a voice, its owner hidden in shadow.

"You can't kill me, cow," he said. Apparently, it was the best insult that he could come up with.

"We've killed four Leviathans before you," the voice said, the swinging overhead lamp not revealing his identity. "Why should you be any different? Any more special?"

"You're lying," he said, dismissively, with a snort.

"Am I?" the voice said. "Would you care for a practical demonstration of the powers of the chains that bind you? You can't break them you know. They were specifically forged to bind beings far stronger than you."

"Empty words," he said, as he struggled against the chains, but they only shifted with a  multitude of clinks, but held him fast. "E-empty words."

"These chains suppress your superhuman strength," the voice said. It was not taunting, it was merely stating fact in a dry, almost bored way. "Now, tell us how many of you there are."

"Go f--"

"There's no need for vulgarities," the voice said, as Cyrus could make out amber eyes somewhere in this gloom. "Just answer the question."

"No," he said.

"Fine, have it your way," said the voice. Cyrus was pretty sure it was the guy who tied him up. His night vision wasn't any better than a humans's, however.

"You can't do anything to me," he scoffed.

"You'd be surprised," said the voice. Yes, it was definitely that cloaked guy. Suddenly, a metal ring floated up, and Cyrus noticed that their was one opening on one side. What he didn't expect was for it to be wrapped around his neck and sealed so it looked like a ring from Sonic only silver.

"A new collar isn't going to get me to talk," he spat.

"This isn't just any collar," Cloak said. "Leviathan, do you have any idea what carbonadium is?"

"What?"

"It's a resilient metal," Cloak said, "slightly radioactive, and malleable, but nearly indestructable. Way stronger than steel."

"So?"

"It can also slow regenerative abilities," Cloak continued, as if he had not been interrupted. "Even burn them out sometimes, in sufficient exposures or amounts."

Suddenly, Cyrus began to see him as more of a threat.

"Of course, it has a more interesting effect in Leviathans," Cloak went on, "instead of burning out their regenerative abilities, it seems to reverse them. Deteriorate their body and powers rather than heal them."

Suddenly, Cyrus felt afraid.

"So, you haven't time to feel complacent or holier-than-thou," Cloak said. "Do you feel like talking now?"

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER TEN:
Ravenous

Joel was not pleased. Not pleased at all. He was just informed that one or both of the additives that were made to make humans poisonous to vermin and weed out undesirable traits in humans (thin builds, smallness, high intelligence, and things like hemophilia) has produced a dangerous mutation in 0.03% that resulted in hyper-adrenalised cannibalism.

A spate of half-eaten animal carcasses had been found in the nearby forests, and even a camper was found half-eaten. This had warranted the attention of even the mainstream media, though inept as they were. He couldn't stop the reporting on it -- it would look too suspect and possibly make Joel Mansion useless to him. He couldn't risk that, as Joel's identity was providing all the necessary funds and resources to implement his plan.

It transformed the man who ate the additive in a sandwich called the Turducken Slammer from two hundred-some pound man into a rail thin creature with a blue tint to his skin and clouded eyes. They gained superhuman strength and agility, but with ravenous appetites to challenge their own.

Then a waiter began to exhibit the same inclinations as this . . .

"Damn it," he muttered to himself, with an irritated sigh. Human journalists were incompetent, but not so much to ignore this kind of thing. This kind of . . . zombification of a small minority of their own. This was bad news. Very bad news. He turned to address Galahad, and was irritated by his trembling. He snapped, "Stop your shaking. Are you a Leviathan or a human?"

Joel considered a bit, before saying, "Stop shaking -- I'm not going to bib you. But fetch Lysandre, please. I need to talk to him . . . about this."

Galahad hastened to comply. Lysandre hid his fear, but Joel knew he felt it. Almost as if he knew what Joel had planned for him, in Joel's anger.

"Galahad," he said, once Lysandre had arrived, "you are dismissed."

Galahad, again, hastened to comply. Lysandre knew, with absolute certainty now, that this did not bode well in his favor. He should have just killed and ate Galahad himself, the traitorous weasel.

"Lysandre," Joel said in a quiet, but commanding voice that nonetheless carried the length of the room. "The additive plan is hereby cancelled."

"C-cancelled, sir?"

"I don't need an echo," Joel snapped, voice still curt. "It is cancelled because your failures got loose and drew media attention. We do not need this kind of attention, as it will set back the plan of human harvesting considerably."

Lysandre didn't say anything in his defense. He knew nothing would sway his boss. Joel was brutally cruel and unforgiving of mistakes, of failures, of setbacks.

"And instead of reporting this to me directly, thereby offering you a chance of leniency," he continued, in icy tones. Of course, this was a lie. Joel was never lenient. "Instead of that, you decide to hide your failures from me. A lesser Leviathan had to report it, when my own general had decided that, perhaps, it was too trivial for my notification."

Lysandre wished it was over all ready, but he realized very quickly that this dressing down was part of the punishment.

"Now," Joel said, still not looking at Lysandre, who knew better than to leave. His boss was ruthless, which was how he managed to consolidate power at the dawn of their species. "I consider myself a reasonable Leviathan. I set certain rules, and I expect those rules to be obeyed. Unconditionally and without question."

Lysandre knew it was coming soon.

"I should eat you myself," Joel said, now looking Lysandre in the eye, noticing his visible recoil. "I really should. But that wouldn't satisfy me as much as --"

Joel placed a lobster bib around Lysandre's neck . . .

[Cloak]

New book ideas.

• Book MCXCV (1,195): "The Twins" -- The RAFians must save superpowered twins from a known enemy.
• Book MCXCVI (1,196): "The Terrigen Wars" -- The world is covered by the Terrigen Mists which prove fatal to RAFians -- even Cloak and Esty feels ill effects. Noncanonical.
• Book MCXCVII (1,197): "Amazo-ing Suit" -- A RAFian gets a very unique and powerful exosuit upgrade.
• Book MCXCVIII (1,198): "Does Not Compute" -- Oceanspray risks having his mind and personality overridden after an accident with his new Copy Chip causes it to malfunction.

There. Don't think I rehashed anything.

New chapter.

CHAPTER ELEVEN:
Mind Probes

"You'd think their minds would be more shielded, more guarded," Yarin said, almost disgusted. "Assuming they're as old as we think they are."

Cyrus had withered away, without saying anything. Same as the four before him. Clearly, the fear of what punishment would befall them if they had somehow escaped and had their leader learn of their failures silenced them. Cloak thought he knew what that punishment was.

"Did you get anything from this one? Anything . . . viable?" Cloak asked.

"Surprisingly, yes," Yarin said. "Apparently, this one adopted the name of Cyrus, and he was one of the higher ranking Leviathans. Higher rank, but not the big boss."

"Who is, then?" Rocky asked.

"Joel Mansion," the Nyac answered at once.

"The millionaire mogul?" Sakki asked, biting back disbelief.

"Yes, that's the identity their leader co-opted," Yarin said, thinking as he spoke.

"They went after a person like that," Rocky said, sounding stressed, "then they must be planning something big."

"If they're anything like the Leviathans in that other realm, and they are," Cloak said, "their end goal is probably consolidation of the world so they can harvest humans."

"You mean hunt humans, right?" Oceanspray said.

"No, harvest," Cloak said. "Not unlike how humans harvest cows or pigs or sheep."

"Cyrus remembered something about a food additive," Yarin said.

"Following the same plan," Cloak said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "If it remains as consistent as that realm, it would be a blue-grey goo upon decomposition. It makes sense, considering the creatures that Parker and Helen had to take care of."

"It's how we found those four Leviathans," Sakki commented, and it was perfectly true.

"Yarin, did he think of their number?"

"No, but I dug -- surprised he never noticed, then again, they are like Taxxons with college degrees -- anyway, I dug and saw that there are a hundred and thirty of them." the Nyac reported.

"And we're gonna have to get rid of the other hundred and twenty-five," Sakki said, firmly. "And if any of them had replaced well-known figures, and idiots like Bern Bridges find out . . ."

"Our PR isn't exactly in the best position right now," Oceanspray noted with a sigh, "our favorability fluctuates more than the friggin' weather at the best of times."

"It'll be an impossible situation," Cloak said. "There's no denying that. But we will do what we must. The alternative is far more undesirable. Especially if that additive works like in that other realm, altering human emotional responses to make them generally apathetic and altering their metabolisms to make them gain weight. Also making it addictive."

"So sinister," Rocky said, quietly. "People don't tend to question what's in their food. If it's not from a shady, roadside diner, that is."

"We have to stop it," Cloak said.

"But how? This is a tall order, no matter how you slice it," Oceanspray said.

"We cut off their head," Cloak said. "We go after Joel Mansion."

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWELVE:
On-the-Fly Contingency Plan

Soon all that was left of Lysandre was a greasy, black stain upon the floor. Joel wanted to say that it gave him satisfaction to execute this failure of an underling in such a way, but it was only for a moment. It didn't last long at all.

This setback just complicated things. Complicated them so unnecessarily.

Though he would either bib or eat anyone would said it, and would not admit it himself, he hadn't devised a contingency plan for this. He was so confident that his initial plan would work flawlessly, he had believed it wholly unnecessary. And now here he was. With his proverbial pants down.

He could not allow any of his underlings to see this moment of weakness -- he would have punished them most severely if they had, as to dissuade them and others from trying to usurp his authority. But he couldn't bib them all or eat them all -- despite refusing to admit it -- he needed them. They came back to Earth in such a limited number. Sure, the human resource was suitably sufficient to sustain them at the moment, but he saw the broader picture.

If they kept things as it were right now, these humans would not sustain them for long. Sure there were like six billion humans inhabiting the planet right now, but how many of them were undesirable meals? How many were too short and small to make suitable meals? How many of them were sickly and malnourished? Too many of them were far too thin, as he knew that was considered attractive by these humans, considering the minds of both Joel and Castiel. How many of them were too smart, smart enough to evade consumption? All these whittled down that number significantly. Sure, these human would suffice to a starving Leviathan, but he had standards, despite the ravenous hunger.

The additive's promise of dulling human mental and physical resistance to such a regime change would have made everything easier, much easier. But then this side effect had to show up, making its viability questionable at best. He may have to accelerate his plans more than he would have liked. Now with no guarantee of it working.

He would have to recall several of the Leviathans to him, and --

"P-please," came a quavering voice, "p-please forgive the interruption, s-sir."

"This had better be good, Galahad," Joel snapped, making his impatience immediately known. It would have been suicidal to beat around the bush -- but then again so was delivering the news that Galahad had hasten, albeit regretfully, to report. He was sure that he was going to be bibbed or eaten alive for it. "I've already had my fill of bad news for the millenia."

"It's Cyrus, s-sir," he said, voice still trembling. Terrified of presenting bad news to his boss, not remotely arrogance because he was let off the hook once.

"What about him, Galahad?" Joel said, secretly hoping that Galahad would say that he accomplished his mission to wipe out the RAFians, who could prove to be a very viable threat to his plans, according to the limited knowledge Joel had of them (Castiel had none), as he saw them as a potential threat to his business enterprises due their "saving people thing". Didn't help some of the buildings he did business in had suffered some collateral damage from some of their battles.

"He's . . . He's d-dead, s-sir."

Joel said nothing for a moment, looking at Galahad as if he was stupid. "No one can kill a Leviathan, other than me."

"But we have ev-vidence, th-that they d-did," Galahad said, hastening to show surveillance pictures of Cloak binding him with the tylee chains and taking him away.

"This does not prove your claim, Galahad," Joel said. But his anger was swiftly ebbing away, as an idea was forming in his head. If this was true . . . if he had talked . . . they'll come after him. He always suspected this might be a possibility, albeit a slim one. He was glad he had prepared for it.

"F-forgive me, s-sir, b-but his screams were heard," Galahad stammered quickly in an overt attempt to save himself, but Joel's mind was working on other things. An idea that could eliminate these thorns in his side.

"No matter," Joel said, with a malicious sort of smile. "Come with me, Galahad."

Galahad was hesitant to comply, but did so immediately.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN:
Taking the Battle to Them

Parker, Sakki, Spectre, Oceanspray, Ghost, Rocky (purely in a supportive and fallback capacity), and Cloak were flying towards Mansion Heights, Joel Mansion's business complex in the dead of the night in the soundless propulsion of Yarin's ship in stealth mode. It was difficult finding RAFians other than Cloak that didn't possess DNA to come. Technically, Parker did, but his armor prevented skin to skin contact, and Parker seemed confident that they wouldn't be able to open it up. He would shove the bit of carbonadium he had down their gullet before that happened.

Cloak would not allow Blaze to come, assuming that Leviathans could take out angels just as easily as they did in the other realm. Blaze complained that he was part djinn too, but Cloak feigned deafness at this.

Cloak refused to allow Demos to join for similar reasons, but he was welcoming staying behind. The Leviathans actually scared him, and Demos isn't scared too easily, no matter how macabre things could get.

He also would not allow Empress Goose to come along. He flat out forbade it. Empress Goose's only real power was his body hopping, and sending him into battle with a Leviathan would be sending him to his death, as Leviathans can kill body hoppers like him when they are possessing the same body.

Anyway, the six dropped down and found cover immediately. This would have to be a stealth mission -- RAF would have to disavow it ever taking place. They were crossing some lines, they knew, and they knew that they wouldn't be believed that there was a supernatural threat bent on consolidating power and relegating them to the niche of cattle. Stupid beasts whose only function in society is to be slain and eaten. They had to do this to save them, and they couldn't go through the legal process.

If the public became aware of this Shenmue would probably be livid with all the legal battles and RAFians would be labelled as criminals and possibly terrorists. And the Leviathans more than likely knew this.

So all six were armed with carbonadium (the radioactivity not affecting them because of the nature of their physiology, or, in Parker's case, his armor blocked it) and a certain length of tylee chains, enough to hogtie any Leviathan that got in their way. Hogtie them, and then use the carbonadium to finish them off. They also carried some borax in case they decided to pull a "Seven Potters" type of scenario on them.

This was intended to be a surgical strike. Cloak was intended to be the one to kill Joel, and the others would have to kill off any Leviathan resistance. Because Cloak felt like Joel would know that he was coming, based of the information gathered from Cyrus's mind. Cloak wanted to be absolutely sure that they covered as many possible bases as they could -- they really couldn't afford any mistakes.

Both Oceanspray and Parker had upgraded their systems to detect the genetic patterns of a scanned individual, linked the with the species database, to determine that individual's true species, no matter the disguise, be it humansuit or exosuit. This was extremely useful in identifying Leviathans, as they transformed their vessels when they "blended" with them.

And both confirmed that there were a lot of Leviathans in the building. Oceanspray calculated at least ninety-one. This struck Cloak as suspicious, but he didn't abort the mission. The more they eradicated the Leviathans, the less likely they'd come back. He hoped.

Anyway, they streaked past the alarms and sensors, Cloak's Earthsight detecting them well in advance, and Parker, Oceanspray, and Ghost able to disarm them in such a way that it made it seem like it was a momentary glitch in the system. This was good, the less evidence created, the less could be used against them.

All the while, in the back of Cloak's head, he was thinking, almost in a chant, Too easy, too easy, too easy . . .

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN:
We're Inside

They had done it. They were inside the compound.

But all six had been on enough missions to know that this wasn't a time for celebration. It would only get harder from here on in. There would be people to avoid, but they would try to kill any Leviathan that they scanned. The more they whittled down their numbers, the less of a threat they'd be.

There were so many, Oceanspray indicated nonverbally.

They would have to strike hard and fast, Sakki answered nonverbally. Hard and fast, like a ninja.

And, yet, something about this caused Cloak discomfort. Something about this seemed too easy. Something about this seemed like . . . like a . . . trap. He was probably just being paranoid, but . . . still . . . he couldn't shake the feeling . . .

There was a console. From there, the technically-minded trio could work their magic while the other three stood guard. And, yet, Cloak's unease would not go away, would not dissipate.

They waited until Parker, Ghost, and Oceanspray deactivated the cameras and other security. Until Ghost got the idea of putting the cameras on an infinite loop, instead of deactivating them completely. But it would not be undiscovered, but it would by them some time . . .

The fist Leviathan drew close to their hiding place. And it was . . . Joel Mansion. No, it couldn't have been the one they were looking for. It would be too easy, the trappings too simplistic to be borderline insulting. Clearly, Joel knew that they were coming after him, and had instituted the "Seven Potters" scenario that Cloak foresaw, and prepared the others for.

It caused Cloak's unease to settle a bit, as it wasn't so easy now. The Joel in front of them seemed utterly oblivious to their presence. Definitely not a ruthless leader that they believed the real (so to speak) Joel was.

The six quickly boraxed him, revealing him not only to be a Leviathan, but a lower level one as he didn't regenerate as quickly from the borax as the big boss would have. And the carbonadium worked surprisingly quick on him. One down, and over ninety more to go.

One more Joel, then two more. Then three. Then five.

This is extreme overkill, Cloak thought. Did he recall all Leviathans here just so they could take on the appearance of Joel Mansion?

Eight more fell. That was twenty-one total. Which meant there was like a hundred and four total Leviathans left, total. And one was the big boss.

He couldn't really be so stupid, Cloak thought, as they fought some more Joels, bringing all the Leviathans here? He must know that it would be a slaughterfest.

They continued to tear their way through the Joels, as they no longer hid their monstrous appearances, and expanded their fearsome jaws. But, even then, carbonadium made short work of them all. And, yet, Cloak's unease spiked once more.

Is he really that complacent in his immortality? Does he really believe that we don't have a means with which to exterminate him and the rest of his monstrous kind? Cloak thought, flummoxed. No one creature is immune from death. Even the Olympians and such -- they substain on being known and not forgotten, and if they were forgotten, their existence would be jeopardized. Even my own species, we are long-lived in comparison to species like humans, yes, but we die and move on, same as any species.

More and more, they tore through until it seemed as if none were left. The tylee chinked at their side in the flurry of movement -- the carbonadium and borax was doing fine on its own -- the chains weren't really needed anymore.

Why? Cloak thought.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN:
All Gone

"Is that all of them?" Cloak said, breaking their silence.

"I can confirm one hundred and twenty-three Leviathans slain," Oceanspray said. "We're safe to speak here -- no audio-recording devices of any sort here."

"In any case," Rocky said. Cloak had almost forget he was here to help prevent RAF being connected with this incursion. "In any case, we are all behind a hologram of an empty room. No one can hear us, anyway."

"That's all of them, right?" Sakki asked. "All but the big boss one? Assuming we didn't borax and wither him already."

"It wouldn't have been so easy if it was him," Cloak said. "He became leader of these creatures for a reason. He is probably the strongest, smartest, most ruthless, most merciless, and toughest of the lot."

"Makes sense," Parker said. "My scans are detecting only one Leviathan left in the building, anyway."

"Mine, too," Oceanspray concurred, "the floor above."

"It has to be him, then," Ghost said.

A thought occurred to Cloak, "Leviathans are shapeshifters. Maybe he forced all these Leviathan underlings to mimic Joel Mansion while he took on another form, as a way to deceive us."

A brief silence met this pronouncement.

"There is . . . logic, in that," Rocky said, thoughtfully.

"It wouldn't matter either way," Parker said, bracingly confident. "Our scanning software puts Gleet Biofilters to shame. We would be able to suss out who he is, no matter what form he took."

"Yes," Sakki said, an impish smile crawling onto her face. "Yes, but he doesn't know about your scanning software, does he? There has to be some way this can give us the edge in the element of surprise."

"True," Spectre said, speaking for the first time in a while, "they do seem like an arrogant, overconfident bunch. The constant look of surprise when they realized they were dying . . ."

Sakki looked uncomfortable, and asked something that bothered her, "Are we committing genocide?"

That sparked an uncomfortable silence. It was broken by Cloak, who assumed that he must have sounded ruthless.

"We do what we must," he said, tone dry, voice quiet. "A world ruled by Leviathans is no world for humans. They would also slaughter any one who wasn't a human or a Leviathan, for they see us as filth. You saw the condescending, smug faces before we slayed them. They're like the Knights, only far more competent and far more effective."

"But we don't kill the Knights," Sakki countered.

"They've never really given us any real legitimate cause to," Spectre said, pragmatically. "The Leviathans have."

Sakki looked somewhat unconvinced, and Rocky seemed to have qualms. He looked at Cloak, and the Realm Walker knew he was thinking about what Cloak did to the siren.

"We will do what we must," Cloak said, despite knowing that it was hardly reassuring.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN:
Mimic Con

"Scanners alive," Cloak said, as he took his team upstairs. "We can't expect him to still be impersonating Joel Mansion."

"Or maybe we can," Parker said, sounding frankly unimpressed.

Cloak couldn't believe it -- it would have been rather cunning, and ruthless, to have everyone else take the shape of Joe Mansion whilst he adopted the shape of something more mundane, something more benign, that would not attract attention. Something that he could easily ambush them once their guard had been let down.

But he didn't. He stood before them in an empty boardroom, with an expensive-looking wooden table lacquered a darker hue surrounded by no less than nine or ten black leather swivel chairs, all neatly tucked under the table. He had his back to them.

"It took you long enough," he said, addressing them, without deigning to face them. "It was beginning to get hot."

"You're the head honcho," Sakki said, and Parker and Oceanspray's nods confirmed it.

"Do not speak unless given permission," Joel said, with a snap in his voice akin to a teacher smacking her ruler sharply upon her desk. He still would not face them, as if he was so utterly confident that they could do no harm to him, though he must have assuredly known that they had already done away with every other Leviathan present who tried to pull the same schtick. "Lower beings need to know their place -- and yours is under my heel."

"And I thought Realm Walkers were arrogant," Cloak said, defiantly, with his arms folded and his head held at an angle, as if this Leviathan was a puzzle he had yet figured out. This creature that can be as edacious, as esurient, as a Taxxon, and yet was able to exercise restraint. And very well may be the last of his kind on Earth.

"Silence, bottom-feeding mutation," he snarled. Still he wouldn't deign to look at them. He clearly believed that he would be setting the rules for the discourse, that this whole scenario would be on his terms, and his terms only. He was wrong, of course. "You only speak when I allow it."

"You really think highly of yourself, dontcha?" Sakki said.

"Silence, worm. You haven't been given --"

"Can we just kill this guy and get it over with?" Parker sighed, tinged with frustration.

To this, Joel snorted contemptuously. And he still did not deign to turn around and address them face to face. "You can't kill a Leviathan."

"Really? Because there are over a hundred stains downstairs that say otherwise," Oceanspray countered.

"You lie," he said, turning to face them. His contempt was etched in every line of his face. He seemingly also forgot to admonish them from, in his view, speaking out of turn. "You cannot kill me or my kind."

"We kind of did the latter," Spectre said. Then he realized what he said, and then added, "I really hope no one takes that out of context."

"Impossible. Leviathans can't be killed," Joel said, dismissively. "Especially by the likes of your inferior kind."

"'Inferior --'" Cloak echoed, frustration turning into irritation now. Then he growled, "Now listen here, you old prick,we've killed the rest of the Leviathans in this building -- I'M NOT THROUGH, MANSION -- we did, and that's empirically true. Denying that we did, refusing to believe what is true, just makes you pathetic. Just as pathetic as the loser you chose to pretend to be."

"You think that this human is pathetic? There is a reason why a chose to inhabit him, you know." Joel said, still with that irritating condescending tone to his voice, as if there wasn't a thing they could do that would hurt him, much less kill him. "Other than the resources it provided me and the rest of my fellows -- oh, please, stop acting like you killed them when we all know you didn't -- Joel Mansion has a neat little ability."

Silence.

"Oh, did you not realize just how Joel made his fortune?" he said, still in that annoying conceited tone.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:
Joel's Secret

"He was born to a rich business tycoon and a socialite with teased hair and too much makeup, no other siblings (documented siblings, anyway)," Oceanspray said, at once. "He was literally born rich, and inherited his wealth from his absentee parents. Wealth that, during his youth, he whiled away with the usual trappings of an affluent adolescent -- hot women and fast cars -- until he became serious (if you can call it that) about inheriting his father's businesses. He always claimed himself to be a better businessman than he actually was, considering his sum of four or five bankruptcies. Frankly, the fact that he retained any semblance of wealth, respectability, and resources is, in all honestly, surprising to the point of ridiculousness. All his success was handed to him, instead of being the end result of legitimate hard work."

"It's a wonder that he hasn't run for office yet," Cloak replied, dryly. Then he caught the look in Joel's eye and immediately facepalmed. "He was going to, wasn't he? How many more buffoons do humans need in government?"

Of course, this criticism could apply to Realm Walkers just as easily. Any system of government, no matter the species, is vulnerable to the gangrenous cancer that is corruption and rapaciousness.

"You prove your inferiority with your lack of intelligence," Joel said. Amazing how Leviathans could look and sound so haughty. It was not an enjoyable moment to watch.

Then he did something odd, his eyes seemed to bulge ever so slightly, as he held his hands a fair distance from his body. This pose . . . with this stance . . . the way he was shifting into the techniques . . .

"You expect us to believe," he said, unable to suppress his indifference, "that Joel was.a bloodbender of all things?"

Joel wore a look of crazed triumph on his face. Cloak actually felt disappointed. He was lead to believe that Leviathans were smart, and they apparently got stuck with hundred and thirty that remedial at best.

"Yes, Joel is a bloodbender, and one that doesn't require a full moon," Joel the Leviathan said. "He had reached a level that he could actually puppeteer people so finely that it would look as if they were moving of their own accord, and he could even make them say whatever he wanted. You are royally --"

""There are a myriad of problems with that plan," Cloak said, as Joel seemed to finally realize bloodbending wasn't working. Also Rocky hid Parker away with a hologram -- of all seven of them, Parker was the only one with actual blood, thereby he was the one in potentially the most danger of being controlled, as his armor wouldn't protect him from such a thing like bloodbending. "First, none of use has actual blood for you you bend, or any other liquid for your to hydrokinetically control. Second, Leviathans, if my information is still correct, Leviathans are unable to use such skills to their fullest, no matter if Joel was the most powerful bloodbender on Earth. Third, if he was a bloodbender, why did none of your lackeys try it before we killed them all -- yes, we did, Mansion, stop your denial. Fourth . . . this is just a pitiful display for supposedly the most powerful Leviathan, for their supposed leader."

"Don't you dare derogate or deride me, lesser being!"

"Dude, just . . . just stop," Sakki said. She started to see this as pathetic. Cloak was, admittingly disappointed. These Leviathans seemed like so much more of a threat in that other realm . . . then again the people who were fighting against them were not like the RAFians. They didn't have the versatility of superhuman powers or sheer numbers like the RAFians do, those Winchesters.

"Why are we dragging this out?" Spectre said, finding Joel's attempted bloodbending as pathetic and lame as the others. "Let's just finish it."

[Cloak]

New book ideas:

• Book MCXCIX (1,199): "The New Gods" -- RAFians become literal gods. Noncanon.
• Book MCC (1,200): "The Wooden Warriors" -- The RAFians must battle some strange,
  archaic warriors.

And Year 13, the year that Dino'll never read.

• Book MCCI (1,201): "Ink Dwell" -- The RAFians must face ink demons.
• Book MCCII (1,202): "Colorful Ink, I Think" -- The RAFians must face chromatomelanomorph demons.
• Book MCCIII (1,203): "Weaponized Parasites" -- The RAFians discover seven very strange and very dangerous creatures.
• Book MCCIV (1,204): "United Despairlines" -- The RAFians must stop the creatures from making a superweapon.
• Book MCCV (1,205): "The Skrull - Lenopan War" -- The RAFians are called on to mediate the Skrulls and the Lenopans, to prevent an all-out war.
• Book MCCVI (1,206): "The Extremists" -- The RAFians must deal with an off-world incursion who claim to save this world from freedom.
• Book MCCVII (1,207): "The Dragonborne" -- The RAFians must rein in several adolescent human/dragon hybrids that can eat elements.

There. Don't think I rehashed anything.

New chapter.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:
Aftermath

And so it went, not with a roar but a whimper. It did take longer for the carbonadium to wither this Leviathan. A great deal more than his underlings. But it did its job, and he withered away into nothingness, leaving nothing but a black stain upon the boardroom carpet.

It was over. As it turned out, these Leviathans didn't stand a chance. They were decidedly different from the Leviathans of that other realm. These were profoundly smarter and more tactically cunning than these bottom-of-the-barrel wannabes. It was disappointing, but Cloak said nothing. The rules of reality were decidedly different in that realm. They hadn't anything like him, like any other alien being in this realm. They made up for it with dangerous creatures that were strictly . . . supernatural.

But a victory is a victory, he guessed. Not all missions could be impressive and badass, he supposed. Some had to be mediocre, benign, and . . . blasé, like the ones revolving around Demos's fiends, many of which weren't too threatening. Not all threats had to be Garrotik Lite, he continued to think as he mulled it over while Oceanspray, Parker, Rocky, and Ghost eliminated any evidence tying them to this.

But, still, of the potential threat that they could have caused, Cloak didn't expect that it would end in.such a lackluster conclusion. As he struggled to keep his equanimous expression, part of him worried about something that never occurred to him before now, and he thought might be concerning. They might be getting desensitized towards this sort of thing, and that could prove dangerous, with disastrous results.

Cloak was not the most sanguine person in existence, far from it, but he hope that this wasn't the case. Once people are desensitized towards something such as this, it becomes easier to hardened your heart against it. Some might consider that a good thing, but Cloak considered it a step to stop caring about others around you, and that in turn, can lead to fascism.

Cloak shook his head as the seven of them left the estate, left it to the befuddled law enforcement to figure out what happened here. He may have just been blowing this all out of proportion -- as he has before -- they did what they must, and saved the human race yet again.

He would just ameliorate these concerns later, when he inevitably starts dwelling on them again.

***

Bern Bridges had been one of those people affected by the additive, just not one of the people who turned into those "additive zombies". It increased his already round frame to morbidly obese levels, and he became completely apathetic in all areas. He only wanted the sandwich which had the additive in it.

He didn't realize that it was dulling what little.intelligence he had left. And the apathy that this additive generated made him sound sluggish and disinterested in everything. Which was because he was.

His broadcasts were more incoherent than usual, and his logic was even more indefensible. And yet the three people who listen to his show still remained loyal. Conveniently, he didn't lambast or harangue the RAFians -- he just sounded as if he'd rather be doing other things, which was the design of the additive.

It would take a few days before the populace metabolized the additive out of their systems, and, without it, they should return to normal mental faculties within that time. The weight gained, however, would remain unless they worked to get rid of it. Then again, weight gain was always a hazard with consuming greasy food.

But everything returned to the norm, but Cloak's mind was still full.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER NINETEEN:
To Be A Master

"Go! Go! Whoo!"

It was Shadow, setting off on her Poekmon journey with a Chimchar and Oshawott.

"So you want to be a Pokémon Master?" her uncle said, holding a PokéBall, containing his ace Pokémon.

"I got to be the one, the only one who can
Withstand the test 'n' be the best.
I got to strive, keep up the drive,
Be a Master.
It takes a different kind of skill
And I won't stop until
Eight-oh-two Pokémon are mine.
I must define the art of capture (of all Pokémon).
To be a Master . . . Pokémon Master!
I will be writin' a brand new chapter!
Poké Ball Go . . . go . . . (all my Pokémon sing).
Na na na na na na na na.
Na na na na na na na na.
It's all about the evolution of Pokémon
Na na na na na na na na.
Na na na na na na na na.
Poké Ball Go . . . go . . . Pokémon!
Got my badges and my PokéBall.
Got my buddy, Ozzie, to help me try
To catch 'em all! (Gotta catch 'em all!)."

She high-fived her Dewott, Ozzie, as the two continued to travel, with Ozzie outside his PokéBall, alongside her now Infernape.

"It's all about the evolution of the Pokémon
The training attaining and bein'
Part of the phenomenon.
Be a Poké Master icon . . . ha!
Team Banned will B long gone
But first you gotta know about the different types:
Grass, Fire, Ground, Flame, Electric,
Water, Rock, Flying, Ice, Normal, Bug,
Steel, Dark,Ghost, Fighting, Dragon, and Fairy --
Don't forget about Psychic!
To be a Master . . . Pokémon Master!
I will be writin' a brand new chapter!
To be a Master . . . Pokémon Master!
I will be strivin' to be the greatest Master!
PokéBall, go . . . go . . . ! (All my Pokemon sing!)
Na na na na na na na na.
Na na na na na na na na.
Like I said before, it's all about the evolution of Pokémon
Na na na na na na na na.
Na na na na na na na na.
Na na na na na na na na.
Na na na na na na na na.
Greatest master of Pokémon!"

Then she arrived at the summit of RAF Plateau, where she saw GH sitting next to an ornery-looking Galvantula. Behind him and standing a little to his left was her uncle wearing a Mega Ring on his right arm, and a Lucario stood on his left with a leather glove holding a Lucarionite secured around the spike on his right paw -- his uncles Lucario named Anubis. Behind him, and a little to his right, stood Blue with his shiny Feraligatr. Behind him and a little to his left stood Phoenix, who also wore a Mega Ring with a Charizard standing behind him, who wore Charizardite X in a brass collar.

The RAFian Elite Four.

Her uncle then addressed her, speaking rhythmically:

"Mmmm . . . somewhat impressive.
Now you've reached the RAF Plateau,
But not yet a hero.
Are you ready to meet and defeat . . . the RAFian Elite?
Can I expect survival against your rival?
And remember . . . gotta catch 'em all!
Show us what you've got!"

Then she commenced with battling the four of them. And as she did so, the song concluded in voice-over.

PokéBall Go . . . go . . . PokéBall Go!
To be a Master . . . Pokémon Master.
I will be writin' a brand new chapter.
To be a Master . . . Pokémon Master
I will be strivin' to be the greatest Master.
Pokémon Master, the greatest Master
Pokémon Master, I will be writin'
The greatest chapter!
Na na na na na na na na . . .
Greatest Master of Pokémon.

Then Shadow lifted the trophy up, emblazoned with the RAFian "R" on it, and then . . .

Cloak woke up.


SOURCE SONG: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=jfEz8hkyTHc

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWENTY:
She Wants Her Mummy

Helen always had wanted to visit the pyramids. But she didn't expect it would be a mission to eliminate one of Demos's fiends. She wondered just how many that the demon decided to create -- she herself had lost count.

"For hearts long lost and full of fright," she found herself muttering. She often did this on occasions when she felt afraid, when she was fighting fear, or, as in here, when she was just plain bored.

"For those alone in blackest night," she muttered, as she headed to a small pyramid, wondering idly how one of Demos's fiends managed to get this far without outside help.

"Accept our ring and join our fight," she muttered, as she entered the pyramid. It was claustrophobically tight. Nothing like in the movies where there was plenty of wiggle room. Fortunately, her ring was fully charged, and she had no fear of enclosed spaces.

"Love conquers all -- with violet light!" she muttered as she lit her ring to act as a flashlight as there was, quite literally, no light in here other than the light that came from her ring.

It was then when this narrow corridor ended and opened into a vast room, like an underground cavern. In this darkness, she saw the fiend, in a manner like a horror movie.

The creature looked like a Cofagrius with deliberate mistakes in design. It had the head like a mummy with human-like eyes with pale blue sclera and dark red irises, and it wore a headdress akin to that of a pharaoh. It had golden shoulder pads and arms completely wrapped in yellowed gauze with golden grieves. Its legs seemed nonexistent as its lower body was that of the lower proportion of a sarcophagus, which was gold with black highlights. It moved by levitation, and wasn't the most agile or maneuverable of beasts. But it contained quite a lot of power from the few curses it managed to absorb.

"You must be the fiend, right?" Helen asked, knowing full well that she wouldn't be receiving a spoken answer. Its face, aside from its eyes, were much too tightly bound with gauze.

It growled and threw a softball-size ball of curse energy at her. She dodged it easily. This served to infuriate the fiend. It tried again. Missed. Again. Missed.

"You're not very good at this," Helen remarked, "are you?"

It angrily raised his hands as if he was going to summon a Spirit Bomb. And it was summoning one of curse energy. Helen produced a brilliant, violet flash from her ring. This stopped the creature in its tracks as its eyes apparently were quite painfully dilated.

Seeing her advantage, Helen pressed it. She pressed her attack again and again. Until the fiend was no more.

***

Demos called it a "pharaohsapien" -- seriously. He did. He created it to be able to explore the pyramids and other cursed places safely. As such, its eyes were deliberately designed for darkness, meaning that sudden blasts of light would both blind and immobilize it easily.

***

Malice hadn't anything to say about this. She had fallen asleep during watching it. She was an octogenarian, after all.