The Metahuman Agency: The Superhuman War

Prodrome

"This is a breaking news emergency alert. The town of Quincy is under siege. Approximately an hour and a half ago, gunfire erupted all across the quiet city in Massachusetts. We're not clear on the situation but we've received reports of multiple explosions, sightings of armed men, and even a few reports of monsters roaming the streets. This appears to be a Code Black situation. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, another possible metahuman incident. Whether this is connected to the reports of a terrorist incident in the wilderness of the state some days earlier is unclear at this time. All locals are advised to evacuate immediately. Head for bunkers and safety centers, while cooperating with the police. We'd like to remind everyone at this time that metahumans are considered extremely dangerous, with the death tolls of previous incident totaling thousands of people dead. We now take you to our ground team, to report on the situation first-hand..."

Jacqueline watched the television on The Inferno's bridge with a smug look, her arms folded behind her back. Several television monitors dangled before her, each displaying different news stations, all of them reporting on the 'incident' she was causing. She felt a swell of pride as she saw the collective terror on each anchorman's face as they described the ghastly images they were seeing. Buildings on fire, people being gunned down in their own homes, panic in the streets, police struggling to get control of the situation...she was doing all of this. Jacqueline laughed deeply, her voice echoing in a distorted, baritone cackle through the voice modulator of her helmet.

These idiots thought this was a 'mere' terrorist or metahuman incident. Not a guided, carefully plotted out attack by a genius. Now her men were butchering civilians in the streets. America was about to learn it wasn't anymore special the the dozens of backwater nations it considered itself superior to. Its people could die just like the dozens she and her mercenaries had slaughtered throughout Europe, the Middle East, and more. She could practically feel a chill in the air. Tonight the world would feel her true strength on a public stage. Once the metahumans were dead, they'd learn to respect her PMC group or suffer the same miserable fate. This night would show her as the only one truly possessing the intellect, the might, and the resources to openly attack a major United States city and win. Jacqueline grinned deeply, the metallic fingers of her ICARUS Flight Suit rubbing together as she continued to bask in the collective voices of the news stations. The previous failures of the past few days were a distant memory and this moment reminded her they had been mere annoyances, tiny setbacks. This moment would be the grand finale and she would watch as Quincy burned by her will and the freaks of her dead sister along with it.

She turned herself away from the monitors. She did enjoy watching the news coverage of her attack but she also needed to focus. After all, coordination on this level could only be achieved by her and if she was distracted for too long, the operation could fall to pieces. Her lieutenants and commanders were certainly competent but not like her. They weren't possessing of her instrument intelligence that forged this whole thing.

The bridge was a hive of activity, as it always was in such massive attacks. Her technicians sat at their stations, speaking or shouting into receivers while reading off huge amounts of data, such as virtual maps of Quincy, reading incoming police reports, and multiple team positions within the city. Behind them, at the top of the bridge, sitting in a chair surrounded by multiple screens, was Wormhole. His brow was furrowed in concentration, his wrinkled hands clutching the edges of the chair's armrests as his eyes flicked from screen to screen, a receiver in his ear.

Jacqueline knew that Wormhole was currently watching multiple maps of Quincy, seeing the whole city displayed before his eyes. At the same time, he was hooked up to a receiver that was hearing multiple frequencies from both The Inferno's bridge and the teams on the ground. If anyone needed assistance, Wormhole would be able to react almost instantly, opening a portal to yank them to safety, transport them across whole blocks, or send in assistance. He truly was a one man transportation system. Exceptionally useful. Worth the exorbitant amounts of cash Jacqueline had promised him, not to mention tolerating his petulant whining.