Memoirs of a RAFian

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT:
Why?!

"Delusions?" the man claiming to be Zeus demanded. "Is it a delusion that I know that I am the only Olympian left alive? That with Poseidon dead, the waters of the world are swallowing up the land. Without Apollo the sun itself is dead. All the other Olympians are dead and gone, all the ones who matter. All killed at the hands of your RAFians!"

"They're not dead," Cloak said. He had been briefly briefed on this during his long sojourn upstairs. "They are just not mind-controlled anymore."

"They are dead!! Their ichor is on your hands, stranger!!"

"I'm not Kratos," Cloak said, no sure if such a character ever existed in this realm. "I would appreciate you not speaking to me as if I am."

"I know not this Kratos," he said. "But my Olympians -- my wife, my sisters, my brothers, my children -- they're all gone."

Cloak was already tired of arguing the point, so he didn't. He just let out sigh, seeing that there was really no point in debating this with a man who already had his mind made up. He was gonna stick to his narrative in sheer defiance of the truthand evidence. It was funny how many humans -- and Walkers -- were like that.

"Now, RAFian," he said, taking a stance. Cloak recognized it at once. Electricity appeared, cracking around his arms as he extended them, with only his index and middle finger extended. He was a lightningbender. "Die."

"You clearly don't know much about my kind," Cloak said, redirecting the lightning back at him. Specifically the laurel wreath. "You can't kill me. Even if you were the real Zeus."

"I am the -- ahh!" he said. It was near miss, but the lightning did pass close enough to the laurel wreath to wreak havoc on the electronics in it and set his beard ablaze. The rest of the lightning hit the wall behind him. He managed to put it out, as being a lightningbender meant he was a firebender as well.

He held his head as the laurel wreath fell away, freeing him from the mind control. But, apparently, it was still too much for him as he fell unconscious. Which perplexed Cloak. Then he noticed the feathery dart in his exposed left shoulder, and then he paid attention to his Earthsight, as concrete was technically earth, although not as reliable as actual earth.

"Who are you?" he asked of a stout-looking woman in purple. He noticed a symbol, an emblem, on her lapel. It was of an eye with a DNA strand in a beaker in the pupil. Cloak felt as if he should know what this emblem represented, but he did not.

"That," she said, voice like a stern principal, "is none of your business."

"You're the one behind this fake Olympian mess," Cloak said.

"Astounding observation, RAFian," she said, sarcastically. Cloak couldn't even be sure that this was even her true appearance, with the myriad of ways one could hide such a thing. Other than holograms, as he be able to see right though that with his Earthsight. But there was shapeshifting, and those black market skinsuits, and such.

"Why?" Cloak demanded.

"That's my business," she said, before a helicopter appeared behind her, and she tossed the disheveled Knight who thought he was Zeus onboard. The helicopter had the same emblem.

"Who are you?" the Realm Walker demanded.

She didn't answer, boarding the helicopter herself.

"I asked a question," Cloak said, preventing the helicopter from leaving. He was controlling the metal within it. "I would rather like an answer."

"You want answers?" she said annoyed. Then she shoot a tranquilizer dart at Cloak, which missed but distracted him enough to release his control over the helicopter just enough for them to make their get away, as she said, "Too bad!"

"Gateburst!" Cloak cursed.

[redtailedsaffa]

Isn't Cadmus the name of a Roman god?

[Cloak]

Somewhere in there. But this Cadmus got its inspiration . . . elsewhere.

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE:
I'm Looking Out For Me

Odie was furiously packing the things from his thread, all the while grumbling to himself. "Who comes up with all thegood ideas? ME. Who does all the work? ME!"

He hefted his bags, and walked out the door, not bothering to shut it in the least. He stormed to the edit, still feeling hard-done-by simply because everyone didn't immediately capitulate to what he said, what he wanted. He sang to himself:

"That's it!
I've had it!
I hate to be dramatic,
But it's time for me to fly the coop
Terrific! Fine!
I'm drawin' the line
Before I wind up in the soup!
I was a fool to let them run the show.
I'm cuttin' ya loose, pals!
Look out below!
Arrividerci!
C'est la vie!
Hope all goes well!
I'm lookin' out for me!"

As he left the forum, with no intention on ever returning or ever speaking to any RAFian again, there was a sound like shattering glass. His Mark had been broken, never to return. He felt nothing about this, still feeling much aggrieved.

"Okay! I'm little,
Been playin' second fiddle,
And I don't get no respect.
I turn the other cheek,
But this busted beak
Is the only thanks that I get!
I never found a RAFian that I can trust.
They promise caviar,
And leave me eatin' dust!
That's some reward for loyalty
From here on in,
I'm lookin' out for me!
Oh, I don't need nobody else!
I'll never fail.
I'll cover my own tail!
I can take care of myself!
You know, it just don't pay
To give a hoot.
I'm givin' all my heart.
What do I get?
The boot!
I'm through with that,
I'm flyin' free
From here on in,
I'm lookin' out for me!"

So, where did he go? His mother's place. Yes, he went home to mommy after the RAFians were so "mean" to him. He was no longer a RAFian now, but full of hatred and vehemence towards them.

***

"Load him back into Room 144 B," the woman was saying when the helicopter landed in the Cadmus facility. "Perhaps we can get more use out of Mr. Saunders there."

This was Irma Waller, the director of Cadmus. To the outside world, they were unknown, as their experiments with genetics and technologies would be considered everything from unconstitutional to just plain inhumane. They skirted around that question of morality by saying that it was for the "greater good".

In reality, Cadmus was little more than a criminal cartel staffed by power brokers, politicians, criminals, and black-ops mercenaries. They claim they were also their to provide oversight towards alien and superhumans. They had made terse alliances with Knights before, but even the Knights didn't know of Cadmus. And they wanted to keep it that way.

They tended to have their fingers in all things, from alien and domestic technology advancements, to gentic advancements, to arms dealing, etc.

They were also one reason that the blackmarket continued to flourish, especially considering that they, themselves, also benefited from the black market. Cadmus agents were bound to secrecy, so there may be several numbers of them, unknown to anyone. Unlike the Knights, Cadmus agents do not brand themselves with Cadmus emblem, so outside their uniforms, no one will know.

They were essentially the Illuminati, but didn't like the name "Illuminati", apparently.


SOURCE SONG: https://youtube.com/watch?v=DxgHLsF2hio

[Cloak]

New chapter. Sorry about the brevity. And with this chapter, this Book is done.

CHAPTER THIRTY:
Spin Me Right Round

Dino was dispatched to investigate a disturbance. She thought that she was an odd choice, as it was some abandoned stadium of some sort. She found some suspiciously growing plants there as well, but wasn't in the mood to investigate that. It wasn't her jurisdiction, that.

So she lumbered onward, in her compact form, stopping every so often to grow back to her full size, when there was sufficient room. It didn't take long to see why the stadium was abandoned, as she saw the creature. It was definitely one of Demos's fiends.

The creature was about the size of a human ten-year-old, with white sclera and blue pupils, and bags right beneath these eyes. It had a blue, top-shape head, which stood upon a body with a thin frame. Its entire body was blue beside from its white upper arms, white abdomen, and black knees. It also had wheeled feet. And it did not seem very bright.

Dino was already at her considerable full height when she came across this creature, who locked eyes with her and began to wheezily cackle insanely, like some crazy, old coot. It launched three top-like projectiles from its head, which Dino easily smacked away with her clubbed tail.

She wasn't really all that impressed with this creature, but she did find it rather annoying with those wheezy cackles. It had superior mobility than her, and one would think that it would use it. But no. No, it spun at moderate velocity and tried to crash into Dino. Only to be strongly thwacked away by her tail or head.

It just repeatedly did this chain of attacks. Three top projectiles, then a spinning charge, almost as if it was using Gyro Ball. Again, and again, and again it did this, despite Dino deflecting it each time, with her tail mostly.

She was starting to bore of this, and managed to get this creature beneath her left foot. She bore all her weight on top of it, killing it. Even when it was dying it was cackling in that wheezy, insane way.

"Of all the years I've been a RAFian," Dino said, as she left, "this was, bar none, the strangest and most annoying opponent I ever had."

***

Demos called it a "tappusapien", and claimed he designed it to help on other planets. Naturally, no one believed him.

***

"Well, that was top," Malice said, chuckling at her own lame pun. Really, it was a pun that only Gavin Free would make.*


*

[Cloak]

New chapter.

BOOK CXLIV:
DOWN TO EARTH
CHAPTER ONE:
A Shadowed Man

Cerulean found himself dispatched to investigate some underground facility -- supposedly abandoned -- where the ceiling and some of the walls were covered in pipes of varying sizes. Who knew what they were for? Cerulean paid them no mind in a clear and concerted effort not to get distracted. That's the problem with speedsters, though, if something doesn't hold their attention, it is very difficult to pay attention to it. Cerulean, through his RAFian training, has learned to overcome this, but it does happen from time to time.

Cerulean couldn't help but notice that this facility was strange. It was almost like it was designed and developed by an eighties level designer for an eight-bit game. Or maybe sixteen-bit, whatever.

What annoyed him was that he wasn't exactly able to just speedrun the place to get to whatever fiend of Demos's he was up against this time. He had to wait impatiently at some junctures to open up for him.

In the end, he didn't find the fiend. The fiend found him.

Fortunately, Cerulean sensed the shuriken in more than enough time, and easily dodged it. He couldn't make out the creature, which lurked in the shadows. It was hiding, but Cerulean wasn't stupid enough to believe that it was running scared. It must not have had much in terms of armor and brute force, otherwise it would have risked a direct confrontation. But it was depending on speed, it was sorely mistaken if it believed that it could outdo Cerulean in that area.

It seemed to be clever and methodical, but clearly unaware of Cerulean's power set. Cerulean recognized this, and was secretly glad that he wasn't so hasty in getting here.

There! Four shurikens!

Cerulean spun around rapidly, causing the wind to take the shurikens and return them to its thrower, which knocked him out of the shadows. This allowed Cerulean to get a good look at it.

The creature was about the size and proportions of a human prepubescent child with human-like eyes that had yellow sclera and light brown irises. It was basically a ninja of yellows and whites, with a hira shuriken upon its brow. Apt, as that shurriken, only five times the size, was its weapon of choice. It's clothing, however, was a part of its skin.

Immediately, upon realizing that it was exposed, it tried to throw a smoke bomb, to disappear back into the safety of the shadows. Tried to throw. The minute that it was on the downward swing of the throw, it realized its hand was empty.

"Uh, yeah," Cerulean said, tossing the tiny, black spheres up. "Can't let you do that."

It then went for its sword, but it wasn't there either.

"Yeah," Cerulean said, "kinda confiscated that, too."

Then it leaped in to fight Cerulean with ninjitsu, but it was like fighting air. It was utterly futile, and Cerulean had to kill it because it wouldn't let up. It kept attacking relentlessly, as if it knew nothing else. Cerulean delivered a hundred body blows for each one it threw.

Cerulean took no satisfaction in killing this creature, no matter that it was one of Demos's fiends.

***

Demos called it an "umbrasapien". He didn't give a reason for making a ninja other than he thought it would be cool.

***

"From the shadow of greater fiends, I suppose," Malice said, sounding not quite satisfied.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWO:
Just Forget About Love

"Oh, c'mon, Princess," came an obnoxious voice from outside Helen's door. It was Odie, despite no longer bearing the Mark of a RAFian, but this one seemed to retain his. "Don't waste your tears on him."

"You!" she snarled. Despite hiding it from the others, she had been crying over her breakup with Parker. She still felt hurt by his perceived betrayal, and now her ring was fundamentally dead. "Get out of here!"

"Hey, don't take out on me! He's the creep!" Odie was saying, despite the fact that he should have been sleeping on his mother's couch at this very moment. "He never should have believed that you didn't believe in him."

Helen paused. How was it she never really paused to consider that. Did he really believe that she hadn't any faith in him. Granted, what he did with the Bugs was still stupid and reckless. Had Cloak not been there . . .

But was it really because he thought she thought he was incapable as a fighter, as a warrior? No, that couldn't be it. He was just making excuses. He was just making excuses, right?

"He really thinks that?" Helen said, actually opening up the door to let the vile little Wrackspurt in.

"Yeah," Odie said, "that's why he ran off half-****ed against the Bugs."

"But he didn't have to lie to me," Helen said, grasping at straws.

"You are so right," Odie said, before beginning to sing obnoxiously, like Gilbert Gottfried.

"Forget about that guy.
Forget about the way you fell into his eyes.
Forget about his charms.
Forget about the way he held you in his arms.
Walking on air's obnoxious.
The thrills, the chills, will make you nauseous.
And you'll never get enough.
Just forget about love."

Helen tried halfheartedly to shoo Odie away, and he gestured for someone outside to "make with the magic." But Helen didn't hear this.

"Forget about romance.
Forget about the way your heart begins to dance.
Then you feel the blush
When he's spouting out some sentimental mush.
Love really is revolting.
It's even worse than when you're bolting.
Enough of this fluff!
Just forget about love."

Odie had cleverly conned her into looking at a miserable-looking Parker, at the edge of the lake, helmet strewn a ways away from him. His armor looked . . . it actually looked poorly maintained. He was really sorry, Helen saw. It was as if she realized that she wasn't the only one hurting.

Her ring gave a violet spark as she sang:

"I had almost forgotten the way it felt when he held out his hand for mine.
My heart all a flutter."

Odie commented:

"Oh, how I shudder."

"The first time we kissed --"

"It won't be missed.
Forget about his touch."

"I can't forget about his touch."

"In the scheme of things, it doesn't matter much."

"It matters so much!"

"You're better on your own.
A meal becomes a banquet when you eat alone."

Both sang:

"Love's filled with compromises."

Odie sang:

"And don't you hate those surprises?"

Instead of answering, Helen sang:

"A cozy rendezvous."

"Oh, please!"

"Candlelight for two."

"Oh, geez!"

"Look you're calling my bluff.
I can't just forget about love!"

Suddenly, her ring came back to life and allowed her to resume her Star Sapphire uniform. Then she made a beeline for Parker, who tried to apologize profusely before she stopped him, and sang:

"I can't forget about my heart."

Parker sang along:

"I can't forget about my heart."

"And how it felt to fall for you right from the start."

"I'm still falling!"

"Whatever we may do."

"Whatever we may do."

"You are here for me.
And I'll be there for you."

"I'll be there --"

Then both sang:

"To wish, to want, to wander.
To find the sun through rain and thunder."

Then Parker sang:

"A simple rendezvous?"

"Yes, please!"

"Candlelight for two?"

Then Underseen shapeshifted out of Odie's form back to the one known as his base form, as he sang:

"Oh, geez! Look, enough is enough."

Then both Parker and Helen sang:

"We can't forget about love."

As the song ended, so did any hostilities between Parker and Helen. No one asked why Underseen had shapeshifted into Odie, or, indeed where he had gone. They were enjoying the unusual peace and calm that would be stolen from them at a moment's notice.


SOURCE SONG: https://youtube.com/watch?v=WMrbT4Ycv1A

[redtailedsaffa]

Underseen, wingman of the year.

Oooh, new shadowy villainous organisation.

Will put the PDF up in a bit!

[Cloak]

Okay. Anyway, I went ahead and told Xeno about the emblems for Cadmus and the Knights (in case they were involved in his tie-in fic), and he went and whipped up this for Cadmus:



Oh, and new chapter.

CHAPTER THREE:
The Gravity of the Situation

A deranged man named Galilean Caliga Domable, G.C. for short, was a former scientist that specialized in the study of gravitational forces. When he felt that his research didn't give him the rewards that he thought that they ought, he was outraged. He turned his back on the rest of the scientific community, and continued to work on his theories, which mostly consisted of manipulating Earth's gravity.

When the scientific community caught wind of this so long ago, they stripped him of all his scientific credentials and disbarred him from the community. From then on, he was regulated as a loon. A dangerous loon, but a loon nonetheless.

G.C. didn't take this kindly. He formed a deep loathing and enmity for the scientific community at large. In his mind, history (specifically, scientific history) wasn't made by idly sitting on the sidelines and playing it safe. No, history was made by taking changes, by making mistakes, by getting messy. No, breakthroughs were made by the bold, the intrepid, not by the naggling peons who spouted absurdies like safety and caution. He was a scientific explorer, a scientific adventurer! Let those stupid academics play with their safe, little experiments. They would do nothing that history would remember.

He, however, had higher aspirations, higher ambitions. He would be known, and loved, just like other scientific leaders of history. Newton, Einstein, Currie, his namesake Galileo, and every other famous scientist. He would join their ranks of memorial godhood, while these stupid little philistines would be far too content to make their simple little devices. Devices that won't push the envelope of mankind's scientific prowess. If they were to follow their example, human technology would always be subpar in comparison to species like Andalites and the Galvan. He would change that. It was his destiny to do so, his fate.

But he needed resources now that the scientific community had excommunicated and exiled him. He was at a lost at first, then he met a woman called Irma Waller. . . .

Anyway, his device was nearing completion, and it was his absolute baby. He called it his gravitational alternator, the g-alternator for short. It was basically a box with rounded corners, with an antenna that looked like some sort of hideous cross between television rabbit ears, a fishing net, and a satellite dish. It had a rather basic interface module, and was surprisingly heavier than it looked.

G.C. designed it so that it would be able to manipulate Earth's gravitational pull. He had planned to use something like this for space travel, as a means to produce artificial gravity. Granted, at this point in its development, it can't produce gravity, just manipulate preexisting gravitational forces. But G.C. wasn't discouraged, not in the least. In science, everything has steps to follow. And this was just one of those steps that had to be completed before he could move on to the next. Sure, it was a slow and sometimes tedious process, but G.C. loved every minute of it.

But then Cadmus decided to let him go.

They were really no better than anyone else. They were just as deceptive and manipulative as everyone else. He didn't know what he allowed himself the weakness of trusting anyone other than himself. They didn't know just how valuable he was to them. They just didn't know . . . no. No, they just wanted to use his g-alternator without his interference, without his approval!

Well, that just wouldn't do, now would it?

He stole it and took it with him, before Cadmus was any the wiser. In reality, Cadmus saw the experiments as failures and didn't want the device at all. The way they saw it, he was just helping them clean up the clutter in what used to be his lab/office combo room.

They saw him as little threat and treated him as such.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER FOUR:
Footlocker

G.C. took his device and a power source of an indeterminate nature to a subterranean cave. He placed it, and wore specially designed PPE (that's to say, personal protective equipment) as he activated the device. He activated one mode of hypergravity, in the hopes of bringing the city and nearby areas to their knees.

It didn't work precisely like that, however. But he was blissfully unaware, and, in any case, he didn't really care about things like failure in the long run, as long as he got credit he felt he was due. Mistakes often happened in the pursuit of science, and mistakes were to be learned from -- although it was a pity that he never learned from his social mistakes.

His tremendous ego was really a liability to him. It was one thing to feel hard-done-by, quite another to kick it up to supervillainous levels. But he had started feeling that everyone was out to get him, that no one was innocent, that they just haven't had the chance to mock him and his theorems.

Well, they mocked Galileo as well for suggesting heliocentrism instead of espousing terracentrism. They mocked people who claimed the world was round instead of flat. They mocked Charles Darwin for his theory of evolution, despite the fact that a scientific theory is different -- markedly different -- from a layman's theory. Yet, all of them persevered, and he, G. C. Domable, must do the same.

He made sure that his device was calibrated right, and that his PPE was properly worn -- the PPE was designed to protect him from any adverse gravitational effects. Very useful to NASA and the like if they saw him as any sort of credible person. Hr never approached them, but he was preemptively sure that they, as with the rest of the scientific community, would have mocked him and his inventions and his machinations. He had come to the conclusion that they didn't deserve his ingenius findings. They would be his discoveries, and his alone.

No one would take them from him again.

***

What? Why can't I move my feet? GH thought in a panic. He only had five minutes left in his shift! Five minutes! Five little minutes! Three hundred ticks of the second hand!!

Of course, that wasn't the worst of it.

The customers were able to get up, as their chairs were firmly glued to the ground along with their feet. And, naturally, they start to complain royally about it. One even decided to cast blame on GH for this, claiming that the restaurant in which he worked was trying to keep them there to eat their, quote, "crappy food".

Five minutes. This couldn't happen five minutes later?

GH was at the absolute limit of his patience. It took him all his self-control to tell this haughty, snobbish woman to step off and use her damn brain for once, as his feet were glued to the floor as well. He couldn't lift them, no matter how hard he tried. It was as if someone increased gravity a foot from the ground. He could barely even wiggly his big toe, though the rest of him worked just fine.

It was good thing that he didn't need to use the bathroom . . .

***

Down at the forum, the rest of the RAFians were similarly affected. At least, the landlocked ones were. The flight capable ones, like Xeno, Spectre, and Falc0, were not afflicted at all by this strange phenomena.

While Cloak was a landlocked RAFian, he was able to manage just fine. He would later come to describe the sensation of walking through this like wading through a foot-tall kiddie pool that enveloped the ground floors on every part of the forum. No one dared to go to the underground Archives.

When Parker demanded how he could move, despite touching the ground, Cloak explained that it was his Realm Walker physiology. Rather like Gems, whether Homeworld or Crystal, his species adapts to whatever gravity is present. It takes a small adjustment period, which is characterized by a brief feeling of discomfort and disorientation, but then he is able to walk about as if nothing is wrong.

To this, Parker grumbled, "I should have gotten anti-grav boots."

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER FIVE:
What Do We Do?

This hypergravity effect was negated after a few quick adjustments were made to Cod Avalon, thanks to Xeno ad Yarin's quick thinking, though it was advised not to go underground, just in case it failed.

"What about the RAFians that are off-site?" Hunter asked.

"We have to put into place a plan of action," Cloak said. "We have no way of freeing the RAFians who are still afflicted with this footlocker hypergravity thing. We were just fortunate enough the ingenuity and skill of Xeno and Yarin enabled us to suppress whatever this effect was."

"You didn't have any trouble," Hunter said. It almost sounded accusatory.

"As a Realm Walker, my body automatically adjusts to a places gravity and adapts to it," Cloak said reasonably. "The Gems of that planet -- I don't remember its name, or if it even had one -- are much the same. Transylians and Ectonurites, for example, can live in the vacuum of space, where there is no gravity. There's probably other species with similar resiliences."

Hunter wore a mulish expression. Cloak was aware that GH was about an hour late from his shift, and Hunter was just concerned, but he was reluctant to show it in front of Leatherhead, who he was babysitting. At least, that's the way the Realm Walker interpreted it.

"Come, we need to go to the meeting."

"No." Leatherhead said, stubbornly.

"Leatherhead, c'mon, this is important --" Hunter tried to coax the cranky crocodilian.

"No! It's boring!" Leatherhead said, being fussy.

"I guess that he's not a big boy then," Cloak said, deciding to use a trick he once used on Shadow when he babysat her. That seemed like a very long time ago.

"Yes, I am!" Leatherhead said, changing tact immediately, as a child tends to do.

"Are you?" Cloak said.

"Yeah!"

"Then you should go to the meeting, despite it being boring, and prove that you are a big boy," Cloak said. If Leatherhead was going to be a RAFian, he would have to get used to these meetings, these briefings. It occurred to Cloak just then that GH may not approve of this. Leatherhead was still just six, and his scope for understanding the magnitude of such things were limited.

But after a thoughtful for a few minutes, before acquiescing to these terms.

***

Leatherhead proved to be very wiggly in the auditorium. Six-year-olds and short attention spans, what're you gonna do?

"The question is what we can even do about it," Saffa pointed out.

"There's nothing we CAN do, until we find the source," Phoenix pointed out.

"Which we have no idea what it is," Gaz put in, "and until we do, there is little we can do about it."

"It's obvious that this foot-tall hypergravity is not a natural phenomena," Cloak added. "There is some artificial means that is either directly generating it, or else manipulating Earth's gravity."

"But that could be, quite literally, anything," Xeno said. "A device of any shape, size, and scope. Although, it would more than likely take a lot of power to achieve this."

Yarin snapped his fingers on his upper right hand. "Which means we can scan for a surge in power. Unless the machine or whatever's causing this is in the Earth's mantle, we should be able to locate it. I just don't know how long it will take. If it's close by, as in within the city limits, it should be quick."

"Get on it," Richard said. "When it's located, Cloak, Gaz, Saffa, Phoenix, Abby, and Xeno go and find it and destroy it."

[Cloak]

Sorry that I didn't post a chapter yesterday. I got called into work unexpectedly.

New chapter.

CHAPTER SIX:
Heavy . . .

But the six encountered a problem when they left the safe confines of Code Avalon. One doubled over, as in pain, and the others collapsed to the ground. The energy discs they were travelling on shattered at once.

It was crystal clear what happened. The surface gravity of the area had increased to the point that it mimicked the surface gravity of Jupiter. Meaning the other RAFians weighed roughly five hundred or so pounds now, and, despite claims to the contrary, their muscles weren't strong enough for that.  Cloak's Realm Walker physiology as being essentially just an energy being with mass is what allowed him to avoid this suffering. He soon stood upright, and immediately took a look at his friends.

"That . . . is so not fair," Abby gasped. Even her lungs were heavier now.

Cloak quickly recognized the problem. If he allows them to stay here like this, they could very well die. Terran bodies were not biologically designed for this kind of gravity, and it could have foreseeable and unforeseeable complications. He had to get them back into the safety of Code Avalon.

Perhaps worse if the device decides to kick it into a higher gear and make the gravity like that of the star, Sol, which Earth orbits. If that happened -- it'd probably be instant death to everyone. So, Cloak returned the five others to the forum.

"I'll have to go it alone from here," Cloak said, as Helen and Kelly came running up.

"I'll go with you," Helen volunteered.

"No, Helen." Cloak said. "If your ring fails you, you'll be at such a risk for dying yourself, even if you've charged it to full. That amount of stress on it is libel to cause it to run out quicker, or just out-and-out break. I have to do this alone."

"What about the people in the city?" Kelly asked, promptly.

To this, Cloak hadn't a real answer, and Kelly could see this. Cloak said, "I'll just have to find that machine quickly. It shouldn't be too hard -- I just have to follow the energy emitted from the device -- granted, I can't see or hear it, but I can sense it. Besides, I only need to look in the area Yarin's scans showed were the likely locations. Now, I must go."

After he left, Kelly sighed, "Why must you do everything alone?"

***

GH felt his cheek touching the bare floor. He hadn't remembered hitting the floor. It felt as if some idiot decided to park a Buick on every inch of his body and his insides. He would have groaned, but even that seemed to hard.

Even his hair felt like it weighed as much as a sack of potatoes. He couldn't so much as sit up. He didn't have the strength, as odd as it may sound. His body was so exhausted that he would need a nap to get to exhausted. His mind was utterly perplexed and confused. He didn't even know what time it was nor how he could possibly move.

And yet, his heart yearned. He yearned to be with Hunter, yearned to be with his son Leatherhead, yearned to be able to move a micrometer. But then a sense of futility washed over him. It was pointless to try -- he would never see them again. He would be trapped on this floor forever. Even breathing seemed to be work now. He wondered how many beats his heart had before it would give out and give up. He wondered how his brain could still keep up with this added weight on him. He didn't question what happened.

It was just a matter of time before his body buckled under this new weight and -- wait. What was this? Something was changing. He was . . . was . . .

Flying?

***

G.C. was watching his device approvingly. It was in the Jovian gravity stage. If this wouldn't make those philistines sit up and take notice of his obvious genius, then they were all a lost cause. He would get the recognition that he felt that he was so richly owed.

He had forced them to their knees. They should beg him. Beg him for forgiveness for their stupid quibbling about "ethics" and "safety procedures". This was science! And science should be unrestrained and unfettered by such petty little things. Only the bold will dare to go where no other has, and he had done that.

And what does he receive in return? Scorn. Disdain. Detestation. Abhorrence.

Those foolish philistines would see his actions, his experimentations as contemning and contemptable, but he would show them. He would show them all. He had successfully achieved Jovian gravity in the, admittingly, limited range of his device. He ignored the potential property damage with the sole excuse that this was for science.

Yeah, that excuse wouldn't hold up in court.

[guitarhero01234]

Ah, that must be the owl half of me finally coming out

Also that's probably gonna be a joke in the next Mad Guitar Player for the record

[Cloak]

Actually something that would make more sense in the next chapter or two.

New chapter.

CHAPTER SEVEN:
Backfired

G.C. elated and reveled in his success. He had brought everyone in this town to their knees! They would all know of his genius, they would all regret crossing him. They would genuflect kisses and lick his boots and --

Then something occurred to him. Jovian surface gravity is a little more than twice Earth's surface gravity. People were not adapted for such things, having evolved with Terran gravity. This sudden increase in weight could potentially lead to a death.

G.C. was many things -- arrogant, conceited, reckless, self-important, naive, bumbling -- but a cold-blooded murderer was not one of them. He didn't really give much mind to the potential property damage though, he considered that unimportant. He went to his machine, his gravity alteration device, and was about to tinker with it -- thinking perhaps Saturnian surface gravity would be better, or perhaps Uranian surface gravity would be less deadly. Perhaps Neptunian surface gravity would be better, less fatal.

But as he bent down to work on it, he had to shield his protected face as there was a slight explosion, like the backfiring of a car. A sudden stream of smoke and fire issued from the uppermost left corner of the device before dissipating.

"I must have overloaded the graviton flow," he muttered what appeared to be scientific gibberish. "Or maybe underloaded? No, no, it's been overloaded. The polarity seems to have been -- oh!"

He realized that he was floating. No, he wasn't floating. Just falling very slowly. He glance down at the machine. It wasn't augmenting Earth's gravity, it was suppressing it. Suppressing it to the level of lunar surface gravity, which disgruntled G.C. He tapped his boots allowing him to stand on the ground, unaffected by the anti-gravity.

"Agh," he bemoaned, "I knew installing that interplanetary randomizer feature was going to come back and haunt me."

He went back to examining the damage to his machine was delighted to discover that the damage was just purely cosmetic. But he felt a sense of paranoia. He deemed this place wasn't safe enough -- he didn't want to be discovered, not just yet. So it was time to find and move into another base of operations.

***

Cloak wished that Yarin's scanner could have narrowed down the area that he had to search. This was still a considerable about of terrain to sift through, and it may not even be hear anymore, especially if he's like Malice, shifting his base of operations every few days or weeks.

Cloak gave his surroundings a look and he didn't like what he saw. Trees bent over horribly, to the point of snapping. Some had. The grass, long and short alike, looked very bedraggled and trampled. Buildings were creaking ominously and threateningly, straining to support the unexpected weight gain. Glass was shattering, unable to take the unexpected gain of weight. Cars were forced flat to the ground, forcing some tires to even pop, becoming flat and useless.

Cloak couldn't help but liken it to a desolate, dystopian world. Bodies were littered literally everywhere.  Were they dead? Cloak was afraid of using his Earthsight to verify. It still disturbed him that when Dwellers die, they leave corpses behind. Realm Walkers did nothing of the sort, so it was very alien to him, still, despite being a RAFian for so long.

Then he felt a swooping feeling, making him double over. Not in pain exactly, but more like . . . adjusting. . . .

Of course. The gravity must of changed again.

[Cloak]

New chapter. And . . . sorry, GH.

CHAPTER EIGHT:
Boots and Legging It

"D'you think this will even work?" Aquilai asked, dubious about the endeavors of he, Goom, Yarin, and Xeno.

"It will work," Xeno said, with strained optimism, "it will work because it has to."

"Granted, we won't be able to mass produce them on a grand scale, considering how many different species RAF currently hosts."

"Which is why we're going with human widths and such," Yarin put in. "Humans are the most numerous species we have in RAF, and a variety of other species have similar enough plantigrade feet to be accommodated as well."

"Yeah," Xeno said, with a heavy sigh and a ruffle of his wings. "Unfortunately, we cannot accommodate the other RAFians like Noelle and Dino at this time. Time is, j fortunately, one luxury we cannot afford right now."

The boots they were talking about were a set of two, and a pair of "clip-on" attachments made specifically for Parker's armor. The four were well aware that his boots could be magnetized -- but that was hardly useful on dirt and other nonmetallic surfaces. The design was rather like those boots on Mega Man. Not particularly fashionable, but functional for their purpose. They were in red and blue.

"Ugh, this is taking too long," Aquilai said. Considering that he was a Time Lord and capable of traversing through time at will with his TARDIS, this could be considered an odd thing for him to say. "At this rate, the entire world will be gravitationally compressed into a miserable lump of coal."

"Patience is a virtue," Yarin said, simply.

"Not now, it's not," Aquilai fired back, agitated and stressed.

"Being hasty will lead to more unforeseen complications," Xeno pointed out. "Best to curb them as much as we can without making sloppy mistakes."

***

As GH's faculties returned to him, he realized that he wasn't flying at all. He had just pushed himself from the ground with surprising strength to find himself temporarily floating in the air before landing upon his feet.

What was going on here?

First, super gravity that glued him to the floor, now reduced gravity? Would whoever was doing this make up their friggin' mind? He wanted regular gravity and nothing more than that.

Yes, he was a bit cranky. This was a horrible shift, and he thought that this place could go and burn in hell for all he cared. In fact, the word "horrible" didn't begin to describe it.

First, a coworker that he didn't particularly like --  a new girl who like to spout homophobic garbage tried to make him go into the Armadillo Anderson suit (it was well known by now that he hated that suit, and even more vehemently so since his . . . episodes), snarled some homophobic slurs (despite not knowing what GH's preference were -- he hadn't said two word to her), and had abruptly decided to call it quits two, two and a half hours into the shift.* His manager had promised that she would be terminated on the spot, but the damage was dealt.

And this was on top of rude customers, whiny and misbehaved children, and absolutely belligerent customers. It was almost as if the day was horrible by design. So, naturally, the minute that he could move of his own accord again, he immediately clocked out, and left.

He immediately headed off to RAF, bounding as if he was walking on the moon . . .


* Disclaimer: I don't know if GH really works with someone like this, but I've had my fair share of coworkers from hell, and I doubt he hasn't had his share.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER NINE:
The RAFian on a Mission

Cloak stalked to the entrance of a cave. It was the one that looked like the maw of a massive, dormant creature, lying as if it were a crocodile sunning itself on a riverbank. And in the back of his mind, a song played insistently, like annoying little brother on a car trip who knows it bothers you. Then again, if he was honest, it was him singing it mentally, though he'd never admit to it -- especially on a mission as important as this:

There is something wicked out there.
I can feel it in the air.
It whispers, "Come and find me if you dare."

He entered the cave, with only a slight flourish of his cloak being the only indication of his departure.

I can sense disaster lurking.
Must revert everything to be as it should.
This gravity device must be stopped for good.

Cloak used a combination of his feline eyes, to penetrate the gloom and darkness of the cave, and his Earthsight, which offered him a larger periphery.

I'm a RAFian on a mission.
I'll keeping on searchin'.
RAFian on a mission,
Whether by day or moonlight.
RAFian on a mission,
I'll keep on workin'.
RAFian on a mission,
Makin' it safe out at night.

Cloak checked the scans again, using his energy to create enough light to read it. He double and triple checked it before moving on.

I feel the moon rising.
I can hear the howls at night.
But you remain out of my Earthsight.

Cloak continued to trek into the cave, relying more and more on his Earthsight, as he couldn't see through rock with his eyes.

I know I'm getting closer.
I don't know what's in store,
But clues are leading to your door.

He was getting closer, he knew it.

I'm a RAFian on a mission.
I'll keeping on searchin'.
RAFian on a mission,
Whether by day or moonlight.
RAFian on a mission.
I'll keep on workin'.
RAFian on a mission
Makin' it safe out at night.

Closer and closer still.

I'm a RAFian on a mission.
I'll keeping on searchin'.
RAFian on a mission,
Whether by day or moonlight.
RAFian on a mission.
I'll keep on workin'.
RAFian on a mission,
Makin' it safe out at night.

Burst it all through the Veil*! He must have just missed him.

He couldn't hear labored breath or Earthsight footsteps (he would have noticed that immediately). But whoever hear couldn't have left too long ago. There wasn't any place to leave footprints on this cold, smooth cavern floor, but his scent was here. It still permeated the area, and Cloak had taken a good whiff of it.

Whoever it was must have been or recently gone destitute, as the scent was powerful, even to his feline nose. And Cloak thought he detected a note of fear in the scent, but he couldn't be too sure about it. But he knew immediately that this pungent odor here was good for him -- it would make tracking this guy, whoever he was -- far easier.

He wouldn't need Yarin's scans, but he kept it. He did so just in case this scent was nothing but an innocent vagrant or something similar. You can never be too careful.

And, with that, Cloak began to follow this malodorous odor.


SOURCE SONG: https://youtube.com/watch?v=0DF60AR0Cig

*Realm Walker for "Damn it all to hell".