Post by Corey Bull on Mar 17, 2018 15:15:20 GMT -5
I wanted to get everyone up to speed on what has happened since Bulls rebooting in NBW, and didn't feel like doing it over here. So I'm just going to put up the last few off camera scenes, in their exact order, so everyone can be up to speed and not completely lost lol
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This is what you read, the belief of so many people....
1 In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.
2 Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.
3 And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light.
4 God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness.
5 God called the light “day,” and the darkness he called “night.” And there was evening, and there was morning—the first day.
6 And God said, “Let there be a vault between the waters to separate water from water.”
7 So God made the vault and separated the water under the vault from the water above it. And it was so.
8 God called the vault “sky.” And there was evening, and there was morning—the second day.
9 And God said, “Let the water under the sky be gathered to one place, and let dry ground appear.” And it was so.
10 God called the dry ground “land,” and the gathered waters he called “seas.” And God saw that it was good.
11 Then God said, “Let the land produce vegetation: seed-bearing plants and trees on the land that bear fruit with seed in it, according to their various kinds.” And it was so.
12 The land produced vegetation: plants bearing seed according to their kinds and trees bearing fruit with seed in it according to their kinds. And God saw that it was good.
13 And there was evening, and there was morning—the third day.
But this....this is the reality of that story....because this is all it is..a story. A myth. Propaganda for the God-machine.
The ship, as large as an entire galaxy, slowly shifty out of its high speed drive and slowed, easing its way into the milky way. The ship, one of the wombs of the God-machine, put itself into a holding pattern around the star. It shined bright and much was happening in this galaxy.
'Computing....star sustainable.....scanning..................galaxy contains needed materials for formation of modular units.....commencing collection and formation.....'
Ports, hatches, and holds open and many, many star shaped ships, each one no bigger then a mini van, evacuate the ship. These drones, know as apostles, scatter throughout the region, collecting the chunk of stone, comet, asteroid, and anything else that is floating. Larger ships, these the size of aircraft carriers, break off from the ship and converge at various locations
'Collection complete....scanning...........................................locations located and verified.....MUF1,2, verified for solar and heat collection.....MUF3,4 verified for lifeforms creation.....MUF5, 6 verified for gas extraction......MUF7,8,9 verified for cold collection and various rare element formation.....commencing formation in 3.....2.....1....'
As one, the 9 ships, positioned at various parts of the solar system are bombarded by the apostle ships and their cargoes. On and on it goes and out of the chaos comes 9 circular formations of varying sizes. The planets of the solar system. The 9 ships that are bombarded by the others become the cores of each planet....and babies of the God-machine. Ways it can connect itself like a circuit.
'Formation of modular units complete....commencing collection and creations....life sustaining elements dispersed....biological samples released....time till sustainable life and viable collection levels.....3 billion years.'
The womb ship leaves its orbit of the sun, as the 9 new planets begin their various rotations as dictated by the God-machines calculations. As it eases out of the galaxy, the womb ship stretches and contorts and disappears, on its way to another location. The nine planets, Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, and yes, Pluto begin their cycles.
3 billion years is not a long time for the God-machine. It does not understand time as you and us. But it does understand pain and destruction. That is part of why we are here. Why we have fallen. And why we have chosen to do as we do. Each little cog, unbroken and refined, works the God-machines will...whether they know it or not. But one ding...one crack....and it throws the God-machine off. And that.....that little victory means everything.
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A swirling vortex. Suddenly, planted in that hallway from grade school. You know the one, black and white tile, old oak doors with that glass you can't see through, pea green, peeling walls. The doors have faded labels, years mostly. 1999, 2003, and 2005 are the ones that are still pretty legible, if you want to call it that. And then, a door, that leads you out into a plateau. Upon it you stand, gazing out upon a world that never was and never should be, yet exists inside one mind. A world that makes the hell of reality seem like a Sunday picnic with your loved one.
A large swamp covers one area to the left of you. Trees larger then the redwoods of California, but crooked and creepy, raise up out of the swampland. Snakes as long as half a football field are hanging in some trees, twisting around trunks to disappear into the murky waters. The canopy rustles and two large black wings, wings that seem to be torn and decayed, rise into the air. In one swish of the wings, a large black dragon rises into the air, curling a few circles before it lands on the plateau. Large, rotting horns curl from its head as it moves forward. Its enormous wings rest at it sides and it's eyes seem blind, but it sees all. This is Vengeance.
Though you are being eyed by a large black dragon, your eyes go to the river that flows across from you. It is more tar then water, bubbling and dripping along, rather then flowing. Across a river of black tar, in a city that resembles the decaying skeleton of a gigantic beast, two winged creatures approach. One is made of living fire, black fire wings surrounding a monster with red eyes. His opposite, an alabaster creature with black feathered wings and matching red eyes. Strapped across both their backs are swords, swords that seem to be twins and opposites as these creatures seem to be. The brothers, Hatebringer and Lifetaker.
A chuckle makes you turn around. The door you walked through is no longer present. In its place, upon a throne made of soda cans and XXX magazines sits a boy of about seven. But don't let that fool you. His eyes speak of a knowledge far greater then his body, far greater then Bull's body, seems to insist. Surrounded by topless women in wrestling tights, most of them stars in the industry both current and past (especially a certain crazy woman in NBW) he is the libido and deviousness of the group. This is Bully.
A motorcycle with a side car comes roaring from the far side, riding right over the river as if it is not there. The two upon it seem to be the same, yet different. In fact, aside from the dragon, you can see that all these individuals seem to be the same person, but different in their own ways. The one that steps off the bike is Pittbull, the rebellious nature. The other is B, the military aspect of this monster. Things are going faster now, the world that you are in has become more violent. Thunder cracks in the air and lightning strikes. From that blast, casually walking towards the group, is a ten foot tall werewolf, a large battle axe over his shoulder. A part from deep within the instinctual and predatory part of the mind. Sirius.
The group stands before you, your back to the river. You can hear it bubbling and brewing, but you are stuck in place. No sound can seem to shake you, no motion seems to break this deer in the headlights stare you have. And then, you snap out of it as you see all heads look behind you. And from the black tar river comes a warrior. A large black helm sits upon his head, an elephant killer axe in his hand. Black chain mail sits upon his body and a large and terrifying warhorse at his side. A sinister smile sits behind the mask, eyes as cold as the Arctic stare out. The Dark Hero.
This contingency of multiple personalities resides in one twisted mind.
They do not share power...they are power.
Together....chaos is their tool and they wield it with deadly proficiency.
Together...they destroy any and all that step before them. Physically...mentally...emotionally.
Welcome to the mind of the monster...The hope for the world. The Cure for the Cancer that resides here. The Death that shall end it all.
Don't be afraid.
Be terrified.
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The room is beyond elegant. It isn't the first thing you would think to find in the home of the man that is a monster, but his taste is far stretching. The room isn't done in what you would call your "modern" tastes, but done in wood, in stone, and in animal. Heads hang on the walls, the tables and chairs look to be carved out of a tree itself. The fireplace looks as if it was built stone by stone. The lights in this room, provided by an antler chandelier, are dim. Benedict Dunlap, Steve Serafino, Roberto Montoya, and Emma Frost all sit around the table. Raven Darkhawk leans next to the bar and Abagail Vorhees sits off to the side of the table. Bull walks in and people start to stand, but he nods them to sit and walks to the bar, grabbing a bottle of Southern Comfort. The mask contorts for him to take a swig, then he puts the bottle down.
Corey: Things are going as planned. Two checks in the L column and now we have been set into a match we wanted to be in. Just as you predicted Abagail.
Abagail smiles a smile that melts hearts.
Abagail: I told you. It was all in the vision. You have to fail to succeed. Now you can unleash yourself.
Raven smirks as she sits down.
Raven: That's great, but why are we meeting here instead of at the corporate office or a seedy hotel?
Bull moves to the huge chair and sits down.
Bull: Its time to start playing the game. This place is filled with the fingerprints of the God-machine. We just don't know how many people know it. So lets start with the basics and go to the originals. Every NBW champion and both the Commish and Pryde. We don't care what rocks we have to turn the fuck over...lets get it done. But NO KILLING Raven.
Raven: Well shit, you take all the fun out of it.
Roberto: I'll take the Snake Pit then. I recognize them.
Bull: Good, Raven you have Cassidy and Vandalia, and Kid Dekay. And we repeat...no killing for information.
Raven: Yeah yeah yeah.
Bull: Steve, you got the Humit Vomit guy, Ralph Grosse. We can't imagine that is even close to his real name, so your gonna have to hack shit. Means we want you digging in on Pryde and the Commish as well.
Steve: Well at least I have the computers to match all this work AND still do my job.
Bull: Stop being sarcastic you ass. This is important. Benedict, use every legal angle you can to obtain information under the radar. We got the cash, use it.
Benedict: Of course. I know a few guys over at the big timers offices that owe me some favors. And I know a woman down in the clerks office that can help me out.
Bull nods, then sits down.
Abagail: And what about me Bull?
Bull: We are not sure yet. We called Uncle Vladamir in Russia and we called Akuma in Canada. Their contacts are now our contacts.
Raven: You called out to Uncle Vlad!
Bull looks at Raven and nods. Vladamir was another fallen angel that had gotten himself into the Russian Mafia right away. Akuma was another Angel that ended up in the Canadian parliment. Bull turns his head back to Abagail.
Bull: When Raven has done her digging here, you and her pay a visit to Vlad. He wants you to stop for a job anyways Raven, something that has to be very discreet and fatal and you know he wants the best.
Raven nods, then turns to Abagail.
Raven: Call me in two days, we can catch a flight out on my private Leer.
Abagail nods and Raven leaves. Bull stands and places his hands on the table.
Bull: The wheels are in motion. We want you to keep an eye out on Pryde. Something smells wrong. If it walks like a duck and talks like a duck, it ain't no fucking goose. He has his hands into something, whether its the God-machine or not remains to be seen. In any event, we want to make sure we have every round in the gun loaded when we start to fire. Now, get to work. Report back here on Tuesday.
The group leaves, but Abagail lingers.
Abagail: Bull, tell me, whats the angle here?
Bull stands and sighs.
Bull: We can't get over that this NBW feels too much like uXw did, and we all know what happened there. If we can prevent the good ones from going down, while eliminating the ones that are either feeding the God-machine willingly or are just caught up in the wrong thing....then we have succeeded with one of the many plans in motion.
Abagail nods. uXw had become a war zone and more then one person was found in an alley dead because of affiliations with the wrong group. It went beyond wrestling at that point. And Dead Cell had a hand in some of those bodies as well.
Bull: We might need your brand of honey. Shut down the bum fights and eliminate the women's division so they are all in the same basket. Too much separation. We want everyone on an even keel here. Pryde can be gotten to, but we want to be sure we are in the right position before that happens.
Abagail nods. She walks over and presses her supple form against Bull.
Abagail: Do you want to know what I saw about you and the title?
Bull shakes his head.
Bull: No, we want to walk into this one without prior knowledge. That way we are concentrated and on our game. Now you got some work to do and we got a match to prep for.
Abagail pouts, then smiles and leaves as Bull sits down.
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The twisting swirl of nothingness as you descend down the rabbit hole that is Corey Bull's mind. The fallen angel has a mind like an asylum with all your favorite psychos and masochist. Currently, the many personalities of Bull are having a "meeting" if that is what you want to call it. Bully sits in on his favorite stack of porn mags as Verez rubs his shoulders. Amazingly, Bully's imagination is quite extensive, what with 3000 plus years to perfect. So you are definitely seeing a side of Verez that would make the rest of the guys pay attention. B and Pittbull have out a map of what looks like an arena, and the brothers Lifetaker and Hatebringer have joined them. Vengeance, the large black dragon, is looking over the entire table. Bully has some papers spread out before him, with Sirius and Dark Hero standing next to him.
Bully: Look at this. Pryde is a fucking crook!
Sirius: It seems to me that the man has his fingers in more pies then Little Jack Horner.
Dark Hero: But how do we use this to our advantage.
Bully looks up.
Bully: I still say we stuff that paper in his face and name our terms.
The others all looks up from the map to Bully.
Lifetaker: No. That would be unwise at this juncture. I believe in the fact that this is an ace we should hold up our sleeve until such time as we can....how do you put it brother?
Hatebringer: Rip off his head and skull fuck him into submission!
Lifetaker: Yes, what he said.
The deep rumble of Vengeance as he takes in a breath to speak is like two mountains colliding.
Vengeance: Both points are valid, but mute at this moment. The time to use that card has passed....for now. I believe we have one of the others, Abagail or Steve, dig further upon this piece of information. There might be more we can add to this to really put the thorns to his head.
Pittbull: Did you just do the Jesus line on him?
Vengeance chuckles, like boulders falling down a mountain as he nods his head.
Pittbull: Thats cold man. You know Jesus was just a smuck that the God-machine sent down and puppeteer to the masses. And you gotta go and do Pryde like that.
B: Well, strategically, he don't know it is being said. Unless he is in our head....
Bully: If he was in our head, that fucker would be having a better time then he is in the real world. No, he is a piece of shit and we need to put him down.
Dark Hero: He does believe us to be his champion.
Bully: Which is just another word for errand boy, little bitch, and any other fucking demeaning phrase we can come up with for puppet. No....we are no ones puppet!
Sirius: Then the other line of interest.....?
Bully: Is a go. We will call them tonight and let them know where we stand.
Pittbull: And the Insurgency?
Bully waves his hand.
Bully: Let them believe what they want. Let them all believe what they want. In the end, only five letters matter.
Vengeance: D.E.A.T.H.
As Legion once did, they all speak as one.
Unioson: Destroy Everything And Take Honor.
The void is erased from your vision, replaced with a single light bulb.
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(EDITORS NOTE: The tomb was a place in the Northwoods on Bull's private land that was seen before on camera. It is a large statue of a Bull with three sets of horns on a large mausoleum. It looks older and it looks like nature is halfway to taking it over.)
The tomb. We have seen it before. Broken and beaten, this place has been hear a long time. But some of the area has been clears, making words, numbers, and other things more prominent. But it is in no language that anyone recognizes. At least, not your common man. But if you are a scholar in language, then the Latin stands out. But there is also another language, the language of the Kickapoo Native Americans. One word: Anikwa. The word for squirrel, but it is written in such a way as to suggest a name of a person and not the animal. Around it, in Latin is "Ut amissi amore". To my lost love. The crunching of snow reveals the almost seven foot Hatebringer walking to the tomb. He looks over everything, a shovel over his shoulder. With a nod of his head, he sets the shovel down and stares up at the bull statue, its three sets of horns and predatory eyes staring back at the monster that bears its name.
Bull walks to a stone statue of what appears to be a woman and rotates the head backwards and the sound of grating stone on stone is heard and the sound like a giant sigh as air escapes the tomb and a large slab of granite slides open, revealing stairs leading down. Bull walks in without hesitation and the stone slab slides itself back into place.
Down the stone stairs Bull climbs, the stairs seemingly carved out of the very earth itself. Bull reaches the bottom and comes to a golden casket. Its shape suggest that a women lies within. But the carving of the woman looks vaguely familiar.In fact, it looks familiar in a few different ways. It sort of looks like Bonnie Blue...but it also looks a little like L Verez. The rest of this room is pretty simple. Torches that seem as if they have burned forever are lit in the four corners of this room. Items from another time sit on pedestals around the room, and all of them seem to be native related.
Bull kneels down and lowers his head. The words that come out are heard in a manner never before heard from the Hatebringer: remorseful and sorrow filled.
"Anikwa.....we miss you. We miss walking along the Menominee with you...watching the sand hill cranes fly overhead to the open pastures...watching the deer gracefully walk along the edges of the river in small groups....watching the sparkle in your eye as you hold your small hand in ours."
For the first time in a very long time, a tear slides down the silver mask.
"We failed you. We allowed the God-machine to get you. We allowed it to do with you as it wished. And it is because we were not strong enough! Do you still live? Have you returned as someone else? Or has the God-machine taken you completely out of our reach? So here we come....week after week....wondering...waiting for some sort of a sign."
There is a wavering in the corner, something like a mist but not substantial. A women appears, a beautiful Native American woman. Her deer skin dress is covered with beautiful arrangements of beeds and feathers. Her size tells everyone how she earned her name, for she is small in stature, but carries something extra in her eyes. Whether she is a ghost or a figment of the imagination...she is a beautiful sight to behold.
"Oh my Abaddon."
Bull looks up sharply and you can tell by his eyes that he doesn't fully understand what it is he is seeing.
"Are we too late?"
The ghostly figure walks forward and kneels at Bulls level.
"I do not know. I am not really a ghost...nor am I really here. This is more of a projection. I do not know if I am aware of what or who I am now....but a part of me does recall you. I felt your pain across the cosmos....across time itself. I may be a part of the past walking forward to put you at ease. Whatever the circumstance....I am here now"
"We saw you get grabbed by the Liquidators. We killed so many that day to get to you...but they just kept coming and coming...."
"I know. That much I can remember...though I am unsure as to how or why."
"What must we do....how do we find you."
"Abaddon....you will find us...of that we have no doubt. But you must remember....we may not be the same woman as we once were. Our love though....it will transcend time itself. But there is something you must do....something you must hear."
Bulls voice is barley a whisper.
"Anything."
"You must forgive yourself."
Bull looks up at her and his eyes are so lost....so different then anything we have ever seen. For the first time....Bull looks like a mortal man.
"How? How can we forgive ourselves of what happened!"
Bull stands and lowers his head, and the woman Anikwa stands to him.
"Did you send the Liquidators? Did you wish me to be captured after we fought so hard to escape? No you didn't. You are not to blame here."
Bull nods his head slowly.
"Your right. We understand it was not our fault. WE guess we have always forgiven ourselves...but could not let go of some things. But we understand now. We understand we did all we could. We failed...but we did not surrender."
"Good, because I have already forgiven you. And your truth...is a gift. Because now I need you complete to take this to the next stage. You need to be full. You need to be the monster I have loved for centuries. You need to be Abaddon. And so...a gift for you. Your completion...for our vengeance!"
The woman touches Bulls chest and he screams in a manner we have never heard Bull scream before. Light shoots out of the eyes of the mask, fire red and brightening the mask. And just like that, it sinks into Bulls face. The woman steps back and Bull faces her, his back all that anyone can see. She smiles, something that makes many hearts skip a beat.
"Now the power of your death mask resides in you. No longer must you feel it alive on your face....for now it is a piece of you, just as your arms, legs, and heart are. Now it is your power. Now it lies within you Abaddon. Find me....alive or dead....as I am or as someone else....and avenge me."
The ghostly woman disappears and Bull takes in a deep breath and a laugh heard before starts to erupt from his mouth. But it has more behind it this time...more power...more intensity and when Bull turns only his eyes are seen....and they are liquid daggers.
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Bulls warehouse. Something he bought a long time ago to appease his nature. A quarter of it is an office of sorts, lined with old signage from wrestling shows past. Bull is the headliner in more then one of them. Trophies from multiple wrestling one time shows and copies of the titles he has won also sit here. A montage to Bull's ever growing legacy. A table with several comfortable looking chairs lining it takes up a portion of the room, coupled with the gallery of gold, and a bar with a refrigerator and drinks. Bull is pouring himself some Southern Comfort when Steve Serafino walks in and drops a think folder of paperwork on the bar. He sits down and without even thinking, takes the bottle from Bull's hand and takes a deep drag as Bull looks on with a raised eyebrow. Steve sets the bottle down and realizes what he just did and quickly slides the bottle back.
"Im....mmm..oh god...I'm really sorry."
Bull shakes his head and laughs.
"Is it really that bad?"
Steve lets out a deep, exasperated sigh.
"You don't know the half of it. I spent the last 72 hours playing peek a boo with sniffer programs and government anti-hackers to get some of this information."
"So its good then?"
Steve opens the folder and starts to slide paper after paper to him.
"I have Pryde's tax returns for the last five years. I have bills of sale from the last eight. Personal bank accounts since he was able to walk. Every dollar and dime that he has earned, on paper, I have. And it's like that old saying when you see a hot redhead. 'Do the curtains match the drapes?' Well in this case, they don't. There is so many inconsistencies, I'm surprised he isn't sitting in a federal prison for tax evasion or racketeering."
Bull starts to eye each paper over, keeping the ones that Steve placed together in small piles together.
"So what are we looking at here?"
"A cluster fuck of lies, shady business deals, and a personal account that does not match the man himself. Bull, someone is paying Pryde to run NBW. He owns it, at least on paper it seems, but someone is giving him a salary, one that is not being.....taxed."
Bull's eyebrow raises.
"Source?"
"Well that is a lot tougher a question to answer. Could be the mob, could be private investors that don't want their name associated with all this. Could even be the God-Machine. I can't honestly tell you Bull."
Bull nods, then slides another folder over.
"And the insurgency?"
"That is another mess all its own. No real bad news when it concerns Bonnie. Though she has had a few problems in the path, none of it screams God-Machine or anything else. She was a wild child, but we knew that. She has some sort of powers, but we knew that. Apparently, so does the government."
Bulls head swings sharply to Steve.
"That's the one hiccup with Bonnie. She is under surveillance. I traced it a long ways down the rabbit hole Bull. I think this is related to the God-Machine. Its a section of the government that is off the books, but you can tell its government. Lots of black book dealings, off shore accounts, the works. Sector Z is what it is being called. I think....and this is my opinion, she is targeted because of her power. Imagine what the God-machine could do if it turned Bonnie. You, Abaddon, would never have fallen from his grace, nor the rest of us. We would all still be pawns in its game."
Bull lets out a deep sigh and nods.
"L is just who she says she is and has been under surveillance for some time, both Sector Z and of course the normal under cover alien section the government says isn't there...but it is. Sector 51 is the group. Not very subtle. They are monitoring here in a more casual manner then the other. I don't think they are concerned by her presence, but don't have the balls to step forward and speak with her."
"L probably would sit down and just tell them anything they wanted."
"Yep, which is what makes it more amusing. It appears Sector Z is using Sector 51 to do all the hard work for them, using spy craft on Sector 51's surveillance. Everything they see, so does Z."
"Makes sense, why use more resources then you need to. Any idea what they plan to do?"
"No. That's the frightening part. Sector 51 seems complacent to study L from afar. But Z, well they are all up Bonnie and L:'s asses. Threat or asset, we can't allow them to be capture. No matter what."
Bull muses over the paperwork while he talks.
"And the other two?"
"Jenson is clean as a whistle. He is more nerd then anything. Seems like a good enough guy. But Kidsgrove, he might have some future problems."
"How so?"
"Well being an actor, he has been involved in quite a few things. It appears the hashtag me too wave might be about to wash over him. This is just rumblings that Benedict picked up from his lawyer friends. Seems some stylist from a few years ago might have had herself groped by him. She is talking to attorneys, though not to police or anyone else at this time. Where it is going...your guess is as good as mine. But something like that might take him out of the equation faster then your destructive ways."
Bull chuckles.
"Don't be so sure. Alright, this is a lot to process. Send Raven word we need her. Of all the fallen, she is the best qualified to look into these groups. We'll have her tail the people tailing L from Sector Z. You keep at the digging as well as you can. If you feel a sniffer on us, cut out as fast as you can, scrub the comps after you copy the info and destroy them. We will buy you new ones. Get a hold of Benedict, have him chum up to the lawyers that spilled this info about Kidsgrove and see what else he can dig up. And tell Montoya to call us too. We have a part in all this for him as well."
"I'm on it. But why you going through all this trouble with L and Bonnie?"
"Aside from the obvious fact that neither one should be grabbed by the God-Machine? They are enemies now, though they are diluted that we are working for Pryde. That piece of shit is just another stain in our way to be honest. His power is limited....Lucious is the real problem. But one thing at a time. We don't' want either one to fall to the hands of the God-Machine. And to be perfectly honest....one of them might be Anikwa."
Steve looks lost.
"How?!"
"We don't know. But we saw her...she touched us, the mask became a part of us. If Anikwa was truly gone, then that would be impossible. Only she had the power to manipulate the mask like she did. Even we didn't have that power, purposely built in the safety features. She though, she was the key. With that happening, and the fact that L and Bonnie both carry features of her, until we are sure, they need to be watched."
"But you just beat L savagely?"
"In the ring....well tha'ts one thing. Business in the federation has to be handled the way we handled things in the past. Deadly efficient and with aggression that would make a wolverine cringe. If she or Bonnie is Anikwa....then we will filter it out one way or another. We don't know how though. We might have to consult Abagail on this. She would have a way. Now, lets get more balls rolling."
Steve leaves and Bull muses over the paperwork.
"Trouble on all fronts. Anikwa....you better be here. Make this easier it would."
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This is what you read, the belief of so many people....
1 In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.
2 Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.
3 And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light.
4 God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness.
5 God called the light “day,” and the darkness he called “night.” And there was evening, and there was morning—the first day.
6 And God said, “Let there be a vault between the waters to separate water from water.”
7 So God made the vault and separated the water under the vault from the water above it. And it was so.
8 God called the vault “sky.” And there was evening, and there was morning—the second day.
9 And God said, “Let the water under the sky be gathered to one place, and let dry ground appear.” And it was so.
10 God called the dry ground “land,” and the gathered waters he called “seas.” And God saw that it was good.
11 Then God said, “Let the land produce vegetation: seed-bearing plants and trees on the land that bear fruit with seed in it, according to their various kinds.” And it was so.
12 The land produced vegetation: plants bearing seed according to their kinds and trees bearing fruit with seed in it according to their kinds. And God saw that it was good.
13 And there was evening, and there was morning—the third day.
But this....this is the reality of that story....because this is all it is..a story. A myth. Propaganda for the God-machine.
The ship, as large as an entire galaxy, slowly shifty out of its high speed drive and slowed, easing its way into the milky way. The ship, one of the wombs of the God-machine, put itself into a holding pattern around the star. It shined bright and much was happening in this galaxy.
'Computing....star sustainable.....scanning..................galaxy contains needed materials for formation of modular units.....commencing collection and formation.....'
Ports, hatches, and holds open and many, many star shaped ships, each one no bigger then a mini van, evacuate the ship. These drones, know as apostles, scatter throughout the region, collecting the chunk of stone, comet, asteroid, and anything else that is floating. Larger ships, these the size of aircraft carriers, break off from the ship and converge at various locations
'Collection complete....scanning...........................................locations located and verified.....MUF1,2, verified for solar and heat collection.....MUF3,4 verified for lifeforms creation.....MUF5, 6 verified for gas extraction......MUF7,8,9 verified for cold collection and various rare element formation.....commencing formation in 3.....2.....1....'
As one, the 9 ships, positioned at various parts of the solar system are bombarded by the apostle ships and their cargoes. On and on it goes and out of the chaos comes 9 circular formations of varying sizes. The planets of the solar system. The 9 ships that are bombarded by the others become the cores of each planet....and babies of the God-machine. Ways it can connect itself like a circuit.
'Formation of modular units complete....commencing collection and creations....life sustaining elements dispersed....biological samples released....time till sustainable life and viable collection levels.....3 billion years.'
The womb ship leaves its orbit of the sun, as the 9 new planets begin their various rotations as dictated by the God-machines calculations. As it eases out of the galaxy, the womb ship stretches and contorts and disappears, on its way to another location. The nine planets, Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, and yes, Pluto begin their cycles.
3 billion years is not a long time for the God-machine. It does not understand time as you and us. But it does understand pain and destruction. That is part of why we are here. Why we have fallen. And why we have chosen to do as we do. Each little cog, unbroken and refined, works the God-machines will...whether they know it or not. But one ding...one crack....and it throws the God-machine off. And that.....that little victory means everything.
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A swirling vortex. Suddenly, planted in that hallway from grade school. You know the one, black and white tile, old oak doors with that glass you can't see through, pea green, peeling walls. The doors have faded labels, years mostly. 1999, 2003, and 2005 are the ones that are still pretty legible, if you want to call it that. And then, a door, that leads you out into a plateau. Upon it you stand, gazing out upon a world that never was and never should be, yet exists inside one mind. A world that makes the hell of reality seem like a Sunday picnic with your loved one.
A large swamp covers one area to the left of you. Trees larger then the redwoods of California, but crooked and creepy, raise up out of the swampland. Snakes as long as half a football field are hanging in some trees, twisting around trunks to disappear into the murky waters. The canopy rustles and two large black wings, wings that seem to be torn and decayed, rise into the air. In one swish of the wings, a large black dragon rises into the air, curling a few circles before it lands on the plateau. Large, rotting horns curl from its head as it moves forward. Its enormous wings rest at it sides and it's eyes seem blind, but it sees all. This is Vengeance.
Though you are being eyed by a large black dragon, your eyes go to the river that flows across from you. It is more tar then water, bubbling and dripping along, rather then flowing. Across a river of black tar, in a city that resembles the decaying skeleton of a gigantic beast, two winged creatures approach. One is made of living fire, black fire wings surrounding a monster with red eyes. His opposite, an alabaster creature with black feathered wings and matching red eyes. Strapped across both their backs are swords, swords that seem to be twins and opposites as these creatures seem to be. The brothers, Hatebringer and Lifetaker.
A chuckle makes you turn around. The door you walked through is no longer present. In its place, upon a throne made of soda cans and XXX magazines sits a boy of about seven. But don't let that fool you. His eyes speak of a knowledge far greater then his body, far greater then Bull's body, seems to insist. Surrounded by topless women in wrestling tights, most of them stars in the industry both current and past (especially a certain crazy woman in NBW) he is the libido and deviousness of the group. This is Bully.
A motorcycle with a side car comes roaring from the far side, riding right over the river as if it is not there. The two upon it seem to be the same, yet different. In fact, aside from the dragon, you can see that all these individuals seem to be the same person, but different in their own ways. The one that steps off the bike is Pittbull, the rebellious nature. The other is B, the military aspect of this monster. Things are going faster now, the world that you are in has become more violent. Thunder cracks in the air and lightning strikes. From that blast, casually walking towards the group, is a ten foot tall werewolf, a large battle axe over his shoulder. A part from deep within the instinctual and predatory part of the mind. Sirius.
The group stands before you, your back to the river. You can hear it bubbling and brewing, but you are stuck in place. No sound can seem to shake you, no motion seems to break this deer in the headlights stare you have. And then, you snap out of it as you see all heads look behind you. And from the black tar river comes a warrior. A large black helm sits upon his head, an elephant killer axe in his hand. Black chain mail sits upon his body and a large and terrifying warhorse at his side. A sinister smile sits behind the mask, eyes as cold as the Arctic stare out. The Dark Hero.
This contingency of multiple personalities resides in one twisted mind.
They do not share power...they are power.
Together....chaos is their tool and they wield it with deadly proficiency.
Together...they destroy any and all that step before them. Physically...mentally...emotionally.
Welcome to the mind of the monster...The hope for the world. The Cure for the Cancer that resides here. The Death that shall end it all.
Don't be afraid.
Be terrified.
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The room is beyond elegant. It isn't the first thing you would think to find in the home of the man that is a monster, but his taste is far stretching. The room isn't done in what you would call your "modern" tastes, but done in wood, in stone, and in animal. Heads hang on the walls, the tables and chairs look to be carved out of a tree itself. The fireplace looks as if it was built stone by stone. The lights in this room, provided by an antler chandelier, are dim. Benedict Dunlap, Steve Serafino, Roberto Montoya, and Emma Frost all sit around the table. Raven Darkhawk leans next to the bar and Abagail Vorhees sits off to the side of the table. Bull walks in and people start to stand, but he nods them to sit and walks to the bar, grabbing a bottle of Southern Comfort. The mask contorts for him to take a swig, then he puts the bottle down.
Corey: Things are going as planned. Two checks in the L column and now we have been set into a match we wanted to be in. Just as you predicted Abagail.
Abagail smiles a smile that melts hearts.
Abagail: I told you. It was all in the vision. You have to fail to succeed. Now you can unleash yourself.
Raven smirks as she sits down.
Raven: That's great, but why are we meeting here instead of at the corporate office or a seedy hotel?
Bull moves to the huge chair and sits down.
Bull: Its time to start playing the game. This place is filled with the fingerprints of the God-machine. We just don't know how many people know it. So lets start with the basics and go to the originals. Every NBW champion and both the Commish and Pryde. We don't care what rocks we have to turn the fuck over...lets get it done. But NO KILLING Raven.
Raven: Well shit, you take all the fun out of it.
Roberto: I'll take the Snake Pit then. I recognize them.
Bull: Good, Raven you have Cassidy and Vandalia, and Kid Dekay. And we repeat...no killing for information.
Raven: Yeah yeah yeah.
Bull: Steve, you got the Humit Vomit guy, Ralph Grosse. We can't imagine that is even close to his real name, so your gonna have to hack shit. Means we want you digging in on Pryde and the Commish as well.
Steve: Well at least I have the computers to match all this work AND still do my job.
Bull: Stop being sarcastic you ass. This is important. Benedict, use every legal angle you can to obtain information under the radar. We got the cash, use it.
Benedict: Of course. I know a few guys over at the big timers offices that owe me some favors. And I know a woman down in the clerks office that can help me out.
Bull nods, then sits down.
Abagail: And what about me Bull?
Bull: We are not sure yet. We called Uncle Vladamir in Russia and we called Akuma in Canada. Their contacts are now our contacts.
Raven: You called out to Uncle Vlad!
Bull looks at Raven and nods. Vladamir was another fallen angel that had gotten himself into the Russian Mafia right away. Akuma was another Angel that ended up in the Canadian parliment. Bull turns his head back to Abagail.
Bull: When Raven has done her digging here, you and her pay a visit to Vlad. He wants you to stop for a job anyways Raven, something that has to be very discreet and fatal and you know he wants the best.
Raven nods, then turns to Abagail.
Raven: Call me in two days, we can catch a flight out on my private Leer.
Abagail nods and Raven leaves. Bull stands and places his hands on the table.
Bull: The wheels are in motion. We want you to keep an eye out on Pryde. Something smells wrong. If it walks like a duck and talks like a duck, it ain't no fucking goose. He has his hands into something, whether its the God-machine or not remains to be seen. In any event, we want to make sure we have every round in the gun loaded when we start to fire. Now, get to work. Report back here on Tuesday.
The group leaves, but Abagail lingers.
Abagail: Bull, tell me, whats the angle here?
Bull stands and sighs.
Bull: We can't get over that this NBW feels too much like uXw did, and we all know what happened there. If we can prevent the good ones from going down, while eliminating the ones that are either feeding the God-machine willingly or are just caught up in the wrong thing....then we have succeeded with one of the many plans in motion.
Abagail nods. uXw had become a war zone and more then one person was found in an alley dead because of affiliations with the wrong group. It went beyond wrestling at that point. And Dead Cell had a hand in some of those bodies as well.
Bull: We might need your brand of honey. Shut down the bum fights and eliminate the women's division so they are all in the same basket. Too much separation. We want everyone on an even keel here. Pryde can be gotten to, but we want to be sure we are in the right position before that happens.
Abagail nods. She walks over and presses her supple form against Bull.
Abagail: Do you want to know what I saw about you and the title?
Bull shakes his head.
Bull: No, we want to walk into this one without prior knowledge. That way we are concentrated and on our game. Now you got some work to do and we got a match to prep for.
Abagail pouts, then smiles and leaves as Bull sits down.
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The twisting swirl of nothingness as you descend down the rabbit hole that is Corey Bull's mind. The fallen angel has a mind like an asylum with all your favorite psychos and masochist. Currently, the many personalities of Bull are having a "meeting" if that is what you want to call it. Bully sits in on his favorite stack of porn mags as Verez rubs his shoulders. Amazingly, Bully's imagination is quite extensive, what with 3000 plus years to perfect. So you are definitely seeing a side of Verez that would make the rest of the guys pay attention. B and Pittbull have out a map of what looks like an arena, and the brothers Lifetaker and Hatebringer have joined them. Vengeance, the large black dragon, is looking over the entire table. Bully has some papers spread out before him, with Sirius and Dark Hero standing next to him.
Bully: Look at this. Pryde is a fucking crook!
Sirius: It seems to me that the man has his fingers in more pies then Little Jack Horner.
Dark Hero: But how do we use this to our advantage.
Bully looks up.
Bully: I still say we stuff that paper in his face and name our terms.
The others all looks up from the map to Bully.
Lifetaker: No. That would be unwise at this juncture. I believe in the fact that this is an ace we should hold up our sleeve until such time as we can....how do you put it brother?
Hatebringer: Rip off his head and skull fuck him into submission!
Lifetaker: Yes, what he said.
The deep rumble of Vengeance as he takes in a breath to speak is like two mountains colliding.
Vengeance: Both points are valid, but mute at this moment. The time to use that card has passed....for now. I believe we have one of the others, Abagail or Steve, dig further upon this piece of information. There might be more we can add to this to really put the thorns to his head.
Pittbull: Did you just do the Jesus line on him?
Vengeance chuckles, like boulders falling down a mountain as he nods his head.
Pittbull: Thats cold man. You know Jesus was just a smuck that the God-machine sent down and puppeteer to the masses. And you gotta go and do Pryde like that.
B: Well, strategically, he don't know it is being said. Unless he is in our head....
Bully: If he was in our head, that fucker would be having a better time then he is in the real world. No, he is a piece of shit and we need to put him down.
Dark Hero: He does believe us to be his champion.
Bully: Which is just another word for errand boy, little bitch, and any other fucking demeaning phrase we can come up with for puppet. No....we are no ones puppet!
Sirius: Then the other line of interest.....?
Bully: Is a go. We will call them tonight and let them know where we stand.
Pittbull: And the Insurgency?
Bully waves his hand.
Bully: Let them believe what they want. Let them all believe what they want. In the end, only five letters matter.
Vengeance: D.E.A.T.H.
As Legion once did, they all speak as one.
Unioson: Destroy Everything And Take Honor.
The void is erased from your vision, replaced with a single light bulb.
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(EDITORS NOTE: The tomb was a place in the Northwoods on Bull's private land that was seen before on camera. It is a large statue of a Bull with three sets of horns on a large mausoleum. It looks older and it looks like nature is halfway to taking it over.)
The tomb. We have seen it before. Broken and beaten, this place has been hear a long time. But some of the area has been clears, making words, numbers, and other things more prominent. But it is in no language that anyone recognizes. At least, not your common man. But if you are a scholar in language, then the Latin stands out. But there is also another language, the language of the Kickapoo Native Americans. One word: Anikwa. The word for squirrel, but it is written in such a way as to suggest a name of a person and not the animal. Around it, in Latin is "Ut amissi amore". To my lost love. The crunching of snow reveals the almost seven foot Hatebringer walking to the tomb. He looks over everything, a shovel over his shoulder. With a nod of his head, he sets the shovel down and stares up at the bull statue, its three sets of horns and predatory eyes staring back at the monster that bears its name.
Bull walks to a stone statue of what appears to be a woman and rotates the head backwards and the sound of grating stone on stone is heard and the sound like a giant sigh as air escapes the tomb and a large slab of granite slides open, revealing stairs leading down. Bull walks in without hesitation and the stone slab slides itself back into place.
Down the stone stairs Bull climbs, the stairs seemingly carved out of the very earth itself. Bull reaches the bottom and comes to a golden casket. Its shape suggest that a women lies within. But the carving of the woman looks vaguely familiar.In fact, it looks familiar in a few different ways. It sort of looks like Bonnie Blue...but it also looks a little like L Verez. The rest of this room is pretty simple. Torches that seem as if they have burned forever are lit in the four corners of this room. Items from another time sit on pedestals around the room, and all of them seem to be native related.
Bull kneels down and lowers his head. The words that come out are heard in a manner never before heard from the Hatebringer: remorseful and sorrow filled.
"Anikwa.....we miss you. We miss walking along the Menominee with you...watching the sand hill cranes fly overhead to the open pastures...watching the deer gracefully walk along the edges of the river in small groups....watching the sparkle in your eye as you hold your small hand in ours."
For the first time in a very long time, a tear slides down the silver mask.
"We failed you. We allowed the God-machine to get you. We allowed it to do with you as it wished. And it is because we were not strong enough! Do you still live? Have you returned as someone else? Or has the God-machine taken you completely out of our reach? So here we come....week after week....wondering...waiting for some sort of a sign."
There is a wavering in the corner, something like a mist but not substantial. A women appears, a beautiful Native American woman. Her deer skin dress is covered with beautiful arrangements of beeds and feathers. Her size tells everyone how she earned her name, for she is small in stature, but carries something extra in her eyes. Whether she is a ghost or a figment of the imagination...she is a beautiful sight to behold.
"Oh my Abaddon."
Bull looks up sharply and you can tell by his eyes that he doesn't fully understand what it is he is seeing.
"Are we too late?"
The ghostly figure walks forward and kneels at Bulls level.
"I do not know. I am not really a ghost...nor am I really here. This is more of a projection. I do not know if I am aware of what or who I am now....but a part of me does recall you. I felt your pain across the cosmos....across time itself. I may be a part of the past walking forward to put you at ease. Whatever the circumstance....I am here now"
"We saw you get grabbed by the Liquidators. We killed so many that day to get to you...but they just kept coming and coming...."
"I know. That much I can remember...though I am unsure as to how or why."
"What must we do....how do we find you."
"Abaddon....you will find us...of that we have no doubt. But you must remember....we may not be the same woman as we once were. Our love though....it will transcend time itself. But there is something you must do....something you must hear."
Bulls voice is barley a whisper.
"Anything."
"You must forgive yourself."
Bull looks up at her and his eyes are so lost....so different then anything we have ever seen. For the first time....Bull looks like a mortal man.
"How? How can we forgive ourselves of what happened!"
Bull stands and lowers his head, and the woman Anikwa stands to him.
"Did you send the Liquidators? Did you wish me to be captured after we fought so hard to escape? No you didn't. You are not to blame here."
Bull nods his head slowly.
"Your right. We understand it was not our fault. WE guess we have always forgiven ourselves...but could not let go of some things. But we understand now. We understand we did all we could. We failed...but we did not surrender."
"Good, because I have already forgiven you. And your truth...is a gift. Because now I need you complete to take this to the next stage. You need to be full. You need to be the monster I have loved for centuries. You need to be Abaddon. And so...a gift for you. Your completion...for our vengeance!"
The woman touches Bulls chest and he screams in a manner we have never heard Bull scream before. Light shoots out of the eyes of the mask, fire red and brightening the mask. And just like that, it sinks into Bulls face. The woman steps back and Bull faces her, his back all that anyone can see. She smiles, something that makes many hearts skip a beat.
"Now the power of your death mask resides in you. No longer must you feel it alive on your face....for now it is a piece of you, just as your arms, legs, and heart are. Now it is your power. Now it lies within you Abaddon. Find me....alive or dead....as I am or as someone else....and avenge me."
The ghostly woman disappears and Bull takes in a deep breath and a laugh heard before starts to erupt from his mouth. But it has more behind it this time...more power...more intensity and when Bull turns only his eyes are seen....and they are liquid daggers.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Bulls warehouse. Something he bought a long time ago to appease his nature. A quarter of it is an office of sorts, lined with old signage from wrestling shows past. Bull is the headliner in more then one of them. Trophies from multiple wrestling one time shows and copies of the titles he has won also sit here. A montage to Bull's ever growing legacy. A table with several comfortable looking chairs lining it takes up a portion of the room, coupled with the gallery of gold, and a bar with a refrigerator and drinks. Bull is pouring himself some Southern Comfort when Steve Serafino walks in and drops a think folder of paperwork on the bar. He sits down and without even thinking, takes the bottle from Bull's hand and takes a deep drag as Bull looks on with a raised eyebrow. Steve sets the bottle down and realizes what he just did and quickly slides the bottle back.
"Im....mmm..oh god...I'm really sorry."
Bull shakes his head and laughs.
"Is it really that bad?"
Steve lets out a deep, exasperated sigh.
"You don't know the half of it. I spent the last 72 hours playing peek a boo with sniffer programs and government anti-hackers to get some of this information."
"So its good then?"
Steve opens the folder and starts to slide paper after paper to him.
"I have Pryde's tax returns for the last five years. I have bills of sale from the last eight. Personal bank accounts since he was able to walk. Every dollar and dime that he has earned, on paper, I have. And it's like that old saying when you see a hot redhead. 'Do the curtains match the drapes?' Well in this case, they don't. There is so many inconsistencies, I'm surprised he isn't sitting in a federal prison for tax evasion or racketeering."
Bull starts to eye each paper over, keeping the ones that Steve placed together in small piles together.
"So what are we looking at here?"
"A cluster fuck of lies, shady business deals, and a personal account that does not match the man himself. Bull, someone is paying Pryde to run NBW. He owns it, at least on paper it seems, but someone is giving him a salary, one that is not being.....taxed."
Bull's eyebrow raises.
"Source?"
"Well that is a lot tougher a question to answer. Could be the mob, could be private investors that don't want their name associated with all this. Could even be the God-Machine. I can't honestly tell you Bull."
Bull nods, then slides another folder over.
"And the insurgency?"
"That is another mess all its own. No real bad news when it concerns Bonnie. Though she has had a few problems in the path, none of it screams God-Machine or anything else. She was a wild child, but we knew that. She has some sort of powers, but we knew that. Apparently, so does the government."
Bulls head swings sharply to Steve.
"That's the one hiccup with Bonnie. She is under surveillance. I traced it a long ways down the rabbit hole Bull. I think this is related to the God-Machine. Its a section of the government that is off the books, but you can tell its government. Lots of black book dealings, off shore accounts, the works. Sector Z is what it is being called. I think....and this is my opinion, she is targeted because of her power. Imagine what the God-machine could do if it turned Bonnie. You, Abaddon, would never have fallen from his grace, nor the rest of us. We would all still be pawns in its game."
Bull lets out a deep sigh and nods.
"L is just who she says she is and has been under surveillance for some time, both Sector Z and of course the normal under cover alien section the government says isn't there...but it is. Sector 51 is the group. Not very subtle. They are monitoring here in a more casual manner then the other. I don't think they are concerned by her presence, but don't have the balls to step forward and speak with her."
"L probably would sit down and just tell them anything they wanted."
"Yep, which is what makes it more amusing. It appears Sector Z is using Sector 51 to do all the hard work for them, using spy craft on Sector 51's surveillance. Everything they see, so does Z."
"Makes sense, why use more resources then you need to. Any idea what they plan to do?"
"No. That's the frightening part. Sector 51 seems complacent to study L from afar. But Z, well they are all up Bonnie and L:'s asses. Threat or asset, we can't allow them to be capture. No matter what."
Bull muses over the paperwork while he talks.
"And the other two?"
"Jenson is clean as a whistle. He is more nerd then anything. Seems like a good enough guy. But Kidsgrove, he might have some future problems."
"How so?"
"Well being an actor, he has been involved in quite a few things. It appears the hashtag me too wave might be about to wash over him. This is just rumblings that Benedict picked up from his lawyer friends. Seems some stylist from a few years ago might have had herself groped by him. She is talking to attorneys, though not to police or anyone else at this time. Where it is going...your guess is as good as mine. But something like that might take him out of the equation faster then your destructive ways."
Bull chuckles.
"Don't be so sure. Alright, this is a lot to process. Send Raven word we need her. Of all the fallen, she is the best qualified to look into these groups. We'll have her tail the people tailing L from Sector Z. You keep at the digging as well as you can. If you feel a sniffer on us, cut out as fast as you can, scrub the comps after you copy the info and destroy them. We will buy you new ones. Get a hold of Benedict, have him chum up to the lawyers that spilled this info about Kidsgrove and see what else he can dig up. And tell Montoya to call us too. We have a part in all this for him as well."
"I'm on it. But why you going through all this trouble with L and Bonnie?"
"Aside from the obvious fact that neither one should be grabbed by the God-Machine? They are enemies now, though they are diluted that we are working for Pryde. That piece of shit is just another stain in our way to be honest. His power is limited....Lucious is the real problem. But one thing at a time. We don't' want either one to fall to the hands of the God-Machine. And to be perfectly honest....one of them might be Anikwa."
Steve looks lost.
"How?!"
"We don't know. But we saw her...she touched us, the mask became a part of us. If Anikwa was truly gone, then that would be impossible. Only she had the power to manipulate the mask like she did. Even we didn't have that power, purposely built in the safety features. She though, she was the key. With that happening, and the fact that L and Bonnie both carry features of her, until we are sure, they need to be watched."
"But you just beat L savagely?"
"In the ring....well tha'ts one thing. Business in the federation has to be handled the way we handled things in the past. Deadly efficient and with aggression that would make a wolverine cringe. If she or Bonnie is Anikwa....then we will filter it out one way or another. We don't know how though. We might have to consult Abagail on this. She would have a way. Now, lets get more balls rolling."
Steve leaves and Bull muses over the paperwork.
"Trouble on all fronts. Anikwa....you better be here. Make this easier it would."
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