Merc Companies.

Terran merc companies:
Phalanx Securities: elite Marines.  A security company from the Imperium-world Orthel.  They specialize in defense.
Devil's Men: elite Vulcans.  A merc group from the Fringe, the Devil's Men fight for the highest bidder, cleansing towns of bandits, political enemies, competition, or Swarmlings.
Caduceus Stealth Corps: elite Cyclopses.  Originally a division of Pythagoras Association, now acting as freelance mercs.  Of course, once Pythagorean, always Pythagorean.          
Hammer Company: elite Breakers.  An elite merc company from the Xeno War.  The Hammers can raid any fortress, base, or ship, human or alien, as long as you're willing to pay.
Black Angels: elite Apolloes.  Piloting pirated Apolloes, the Black Angels give aerial support to anyone who pays enough.  
War Dragons: elite Dragons.  Formed during the Alsaran Wars of Freedom by Alsaran rebels, the War Dragons are swift and deadly.
Spartan League: elite Heracles.  A merc group from the days of the Arsinon Dominion, the Spartan League specializes in heavy infantry, able to batter through ranks of Terrans, Swarm, or Notross.
Shield: elite Epsilite War Tanks.  Coming into the big league during the Alsaran Wars, hired by the Imperium to help lay siege to Alsaran fortresses.  Shield can now be hired by whoever has enough money.
Rogue Column: elite Battleship.  The only group of deserters to ever leave the Imperium military and live.  The Rogue Column fights alongside anyone who hates the Imperium.

Hidden Temple.

Arakil stepped carefully through the underground gloom, fellow Prothen were nearby, searching the rocks and stalagmites for clues.  Clues left by the gods.  Arakil went around a particularly large and smooth stalagmite; and found a temple.  It was like a cave; a large portion of some great temple chamber within this bigger cavern.  Arakil crept inside, his green, pupilless eyes quickly adjusting to the thick blackness that shrouded the inside of the broken temple.  Sweeping dust from the wall with his robotic hand, he saw carvings and illustrations lying hidden under the layer of dust.  They were carved in a style he had seen before, five hundred years ago on Arung Khai.  The side-view, geometric style of the Architects.  Every line, every curve, every dot and feature was perfectly carved, perfectly measured.  Arakil excitedly swept more dust from the ancient wall and saw an interesting image; an illustration of the Architects themselves, hundreds of extremely detailed troops.  They wore advanced battle armor, with smooth, curved helmets with a single eye in the center, their weapons were long, broad rifles that, judging from the illustration, fired very potent energy rays.  A horde of monstrous horrors that Arakil realized were swarmlings, were rushing toward the Architect battalion.  He felt a creeping sensation along his metal spine.  Dashing past many other carvings of the Architects engineering worlds and spaceships, up to the back of the ancient temple; the altar.  The crystalline shrine laid on it's side, cracked, shards of crystal were strewn on the floor.  Above the altar was an image of an Architect wearing a flowing robe and crown-like helmet.  His hands were extended, gesturing to adjacent scenes; scenes of the Architects arriving in the Dagen Region, building a homeworld for themselves, finding primitive species, the Prothen and Notross, going to a barren, wasteland, world and finding... life.  They took this bold and resilient life-form and genetically enhanced it, they multiplied it, made it more adaptable than other species.  The things morphed and grew, in size and intelligence, the numberless creatures were then put under the control of an Architect-made being: the Overmind.  The swarms of these creatures grew evermore; until, one day, they turned and attacked their creators.  Overrunning most of the Architects' worlds instantly, there was a great battle at the Architect homeworld.  The Architects, after the battle, were no more.
Arakil, wide eyed, stumbled backwards.  The Architects had made the Swarm!      

I remember when...

Moonlight shone down on me from above the towering shadows of the trees.
I remember the hoots of owls, the pitter-patter of mice across the fallen leaves.
I remember the eyes of foxes and rabbits, looking out at me from under scraggily bushes, safe in their burrow homes.
I remember eagles and crows, hawks and ravens, sitting proud in their high twig thrones, watching me as I walked through the twilit forest.

The Origins of the Swarm.

Aeons ago; the Prothen, Firstborn of Adru, spread across the Dagen Region and taught the tribal Notross the arts of war.  For a great blight was burning a path of destruction across the stars.  The blight was the Swarm.
The Swarm spread from Zarsus and burned a path of destruction to Dagen.  The Swarm encountered the Prothen and Notross, who fought off the insectoid monsters.  The Overmind, the supreme will of the Swarm, inflicted the Prothen with a terrible virus, that ate flesh and bone away to nothing.  Kalssenon, Hierarch Executor of the Prothen, devised a way, using psionics and technology, to put cybernetic implants in the remaining Prothen and Prothen eggs.  The sparse amount of Prothen withdrew to their ancestral homeworld of Arung Uni.  The Notross, after the devastating war with the Swarm, reverted back to their tribal ways, losing all technology and communication with the Prothen.  After centuries of primitive tribalism, the Prothen returned the knowledge of warp drives and ordered law to the Notross.  The wisest Prothen seers foretold that a fourth species would come from a far sector of the Dagan Region, and that their coming would herald the second coming and destruction of the Swarm.  Notross refused to accept that an outsider species could save the Prothen and Notross.  The two species fell out of communion with each other.  After the centuries, the Swarm turned to myth among the Notross, an alien invasion long ago defeated, no need to dwell on the past.  The Prothen on Arung Uni saw the signs: the return of Zarsus Prime in the night sky and the shadowing over of all adjacent stars.  The Swarm was rising yet again.

The Prometheus; Part 2.

Jason tentatively stepped forward, taser pointed forward.  The thing in the shadows stopped moving; waiting.  There was a moment of silence, no one moved.  Beads of sweat ran down Jason's forehead and into his eyes.  He reached up to wipe his eyes; but he heard a slight shift of feet in the shadows.  His whole body tensed and he instinctively pulled the trigger of his weapon.  A foot-long bolt of electricity erupted from the barrel of his taser; flying and hitting the thing lurking in the shadows.  The figure flew into the back wall with a loud clang of metal.  Jason turned on his wristlight and shone its blue beam of light on the figure.
It was a man, like Jason.  He was thin but wiry, shaggy black hair hung over his deep-set green eyes, he was dressed similar to Jason, but the stranger had bits of what looked liked armor, though it was bent and scratched.  The most dangerous thing about this man was the four-foot long curved sword in his hand.  The man lay on the ground, twitching from the taser bolt; after a minute he stopped moving.  Jason stepped toward the prone, maybe even dead, man.  He, Jason, threw himself to the ground; the curved sword sliced the air harmlessly where he had been just a second before.  The man was on his feet, sword ready, a feral hatred in his scowling eyes.  Jason, leaping up, took a step backward his taser pointed at the wild man's chest.  Jason spied a name emblazoned on this wild stranger's jumpsuit.
"Romulus, stand down!  I repeat; stand down!  It's ok, I won't shoot you again; see?"  Jason slowly lowered his taser.
Romulus stood still at first; staring at Jason.  Very slowly, his sword pointed toward the floor.  Jason breathed a sigh of relief.  That's when something pounced from behind; and everything went black.              

Lance DeMoi and the Revenge of Noctheim.

Lance ran, like he had never ran before, blood spilling onto the rocks from his many wounds as he flew down the mountain.  A horde of vampires came pouring out of the caves up the mountain; all of them contorted with their hunger for blood.  Harley, one leg broken and covered in blood, limped as best he could after Lance, the horde quickly drawing closer to him.  Lance turned and ran back up the rocky slope to Harley.
"Come on!"  Lance yelled, helping to support Harley as they both stumbled down the mountain.  Suddenly, in a black flash, a very tall, slim, chalk white skinned vampire wearing black armor and an onyx crown appeared in front of them.  He drew a dark iron sword from it's sheath on his black, bejewled belt.  Turning to his bear form, Harley roared and charged forward, teeth bared.  Dracula stood his ground, then, when Harley was close enough, Dracula skewered the werebear and nonchalantly tossed him aside.  Lance choked and fell to his knees; Harley was dead and Lance had only himself to blame.  Dracula and his army of vampires surrounded the lone Lance DeMoi.  Dracula pointed his black sword at Lance's dirty and blood-smeared throat, and chuckled.
"Well look who we have hear: the mighty Lance DeMoi on his knees and at my mercy!"
Dracula smashed Lance in the head with the pommel of his sword.  Blood ran down Lance's neck as he fell on the rocks and dirt; he coughed up blood into the dust.  Something fell of his belt and tinkled against the stones; of course how could he have forgotten!  Snatching the bottle of pure daylight, Lance jumped to his feet, Dracula snarled and lunged with his sword.  Lance threw himself to the side, whipped out his revolver, threw the crystal vial on the ground and shot it.  Pure, raw, daylight exploded over the mountainside.  The nearest vampires were incinerated on the spot, others farther back burst into flame, Dracula shrieked and fell backwards, his sword clattered against the stones.  Lance jammed his eyes shut and ran to the cliff's edge, where he peeked and saw a lake far below, a deep one by the looks of it; and he dove of the mountain into the cold mountain pool below.

The Prometheus

He awoke with a start.  He didn't know where he was, or who he was.  He was in a confined, body chamber with a little window at head level looking out into pitch blackness.  He tore a tube from his mouth; water spilled onto the floor of his pod and an emergency light went on.  There was a pneumatic hiss and the chamber door opened, letting in cool air.  He unstrapped himself and stumbled into the darkness, he looked around, his arm accidentally smacked a switch.  Electric lights, dim at first, came to life, lighting the previously dark passageway.  Stumbling down the dark metal passage, he noticed drawers along the wall.  He wrenched one labeled "Argon, Jason" open and dumped out it's contents onto the metal grating.  There was a black jumpsuit, an under shirt, boots, a handlight, a med-kit, and a taser-like weapon.  Jason put on the  underclothes and jumpsuit over his briefs, strapped the boots on, and put the other items on his belt.  Putting on the the handlight, he walked down the dim, menacing metal passageways; going no where in particular.  Jason wondered where he was; vague memories of a massive vessel swirled in his head, but what kind of vessel?  He was pondering this as he came into an observation deck.  He turned toward the wall-to-ceiling window.
His jaw dropped.
Splayed out before him was a gas nebula, all swirls and stars, blanketing visible space with it's speckled majesty.  The bay window was cool against Jason's skin as he pressed against it; eyes taking in the beautiful scene before him.  He noticed a star, a giant yellow thing, drawing noticibly closer.  Planets swirled around the sun, five or six of them.  He stepped back, memories shifting through his head; there was a soft tink of metal behind him.  Jason turned, hand on taser.  Something was moving in the back shadows of the deck.

The Great Galactic War.

The Republic enjoyed a thousand years of peace after the The Great Hyperlane Invasion by the sinn.  The old sinn emperor, Angard Shadow, died, leaving the throne to Kaga Diin.  Diin was then challenged by the irascible, illegitimate, son of Shadow, Draco Ravorn.  Draco fought and killed Kaga Diin in a duel right outside the latter's own palace, Draco stole the crown and initiated a new regime.  For too long had the Republic been at peace, and for too long had the sinn, the sworn enemies of the Republic, been reclusive and peaceful.  Draco built a massive fleet, bigger than the one used by Marak Shadow in the Great Hyperlane invasion.  Unlike the sinn emperors before him, who attacked lesser Republic worlds to slowly eat away at Republic power, Draco lead his fleet straight from Korduun in a spear-like lightening blitz to Eridu, the grand capital of the Republic.  The attack was both well timed and unexpected; the Republic had just gone through the Fourth Tuet Civil War; and no one had ever dared attack the capital of the Republic before.  Just as the troop transports had landed from the Tuet Cluster, the black, gothic ships of Draco appeared in Eridu's sky.  The great warships bombarded the city with photon missiles and laser cannons.  Draco's flagship, The Red Leviathan, smashed the spire of the Senate Palace onto the buildings below.  Sidon Troopers, Draco's elite soldiers, abducted several groups of senators and held them on their warships to ensure not being shot down.  The sinn blasted all planetary laser cannons, than the Central Eridu Barracks, killing all the clones within and destroying the squadron of ships there.  For three weeks the sinn bombarded the capital of the Republic, Sidon Troopers stormed the Senate and officially declared the end of the Galactic Republic.  The Supreme Consuls, Runan and Canscicio, fled with a battalion of Senate Guard into the lower levels of Eridu.  Draco wished to capture the rogue Consuls, so he announced he would kill a captive senator for every hour the Supreme Consuls stayed in hiding.  The Consuls were at a lose for what to do next.  That is, until Gasha warrior Trajan Larons and his apprentice, Taa Vas, snuck aboard the Red Leviathan and challenged Draco Ravorn to a duel.  Trajan was killed in the duel, but Taa was able to push Draco out of the ship; where he fell and was impaled on the Senate Palace.  Seeing their emperor dead, the sinn fled back to the Sinn Empire, but a Republic fleet from the Rylex Sector followed them to Korduun.  There the Republic fleet destroyed every last ship of the sinn fleet and radiated Korduun with a neutro bomb, making the world an uninhabitable, radiated wasteland for two-thousand years.  The descendants of Draco ruled an increasingly smaller and far weaker Sinn Empire from the planet Akshak.  

House of Life.

The House of Life.
HQ: Cairo, Egypt.
Function: Magicians' order.
Founder: Imhotep, 2632 BC, Memphis.
Symbol: An anhk toped by a box.

Founded by the great magician and architect Imhotep, the House started in Egypt but has spread all over the world.  When the Assyrians conquered Egypt, the House built a base in Assur and slowly spread up and down the Mediterranean coast.  When Rome conquered Egypt, a base was built in Rome for the House.  When Italy finally fell to the Goths, the House was routed and destroyed in the West.  In the East, Constantinople forced the House underground and destroyed all their bases outside of Egypt.  Today, the House is still under ground, beneath Cairo, where they practice their magic and wait for the return of the gods.  

League of Trades.

The League of Bronze Knives.
HQ: Prague, Czech Republic.  Castle Mountain, Canada.
Function: Assassins for hire.
Founding: Tahn-Nush the Bloody, 1074 BC, Babylon.
Symbol: A bronze scorpion.

Founded by the legendary assassin Tahn-Nush the Bloody in his home city of Babylon.  Tahn brought as many bandits and cutthroats in Babylonia and Assyria as he could under his control, forming a spy network that went from Sparta to Ninevah to Memphis.  All through out history, all the great assassins have been hired from the League of Bronze Knives.  After Tahn-Nush died, the best assassins fought each other for control.  A sassanid named Chorose won.  In 1042 AD, the League moved from the Middle East to Prague, and after the New World was discovered, the League made another base in Castle Mountain in Canada in 1780.  When Bartimeus the Vicious fell prey to ambitious underlings in 1929, Eshur-Appendel, an Assyrian mummy previously called to join the White Guard, took the position.        

Stygian Undercouncil.

Stygian Undercouncil:
HQ:  Tartarus, Hades.
Function: Malign high council.
Founding: Kronos, 1193 BC, Tartarus.
Symbol: Corinthian bronze helm with a spiky, black half-circle under it, on a dark blue background.

When the Olympians overthrew their titan overlords, they had to devise various ways to dispose of the immortal giants.  Such as chaining Prometheus to a rock and having an eagle rip out his liver every day.  Zeus personally dispatched his father, Kronos, by cutting him to pieces and casting him into the pit of Tartarus.  Kronos lost control of all his legions, who scattered when the gods defeated the titans, so Kronos, forever falling through the darkness of Tartarus, called together powerful creatures in a council to be his new voice to his scattered subjects.  They built a palace by the mouth of Tartarus and began calling to all manner of evil creatures, calling them to their banner.  In 1985, the Undercouncil, at Dracula's prodding, declared open war on mankind, sending their reformed legions to conquer Greece.  But Lance DeMoi and Harley Green averted the crisis, Harley died in the process though.  

Night Shift.

Night Shift:
HQ: Trenton, NJ.
Function: Undead-slaying paramilitary organization.
Founding: Lt. Alexander Ware, 1907, Trenton, NJ.
Symbol: A hand holding a sword in a circle, with a crescent moon above the hand.

Founded by New Jersey US army officer, Lt. Alexander Ware in  Trenton, the Night Shift specializes in fighting undead.  Alexander became famous for killing Spearfinger and the New Jersey Devil, he then set up an office in Trenton and hired some of his old military buddies to start combating the creatures of the night.  Night Shift has complete army gear: high powered weaponry, uniforms, helicopters, and so on.  The leader of Nigh Shift is called Lieutenant commander, the little office that Alexander bought is now the Ware Compound, the Night Shift global facilities.  Though they are centered in America, there are agents in Britain, such as Edward Cooper, France, Spain, Germany, Italy, Greece, and Austria.

White Guard.

White Guard:
HQ: St Petersburg, Russia.
Function: Demonic defense organization.
Founding: Michael. 663 BC, Thebes, Egypt.
Symbol: A bronze kite shield with white bird wings, emblazoned with a rising sun, and a sword crossed with a staff.

Founded long ago in Egypt by, allegedly, Archangel Michael.  He called humans and parahumans from all around the Mediterranean, among them were thieves, beggars, soldiers, bandits, and murderers.  Of all he called, only five backed down; Tamar, Ashdornepul, Kahn, Necho, and Eshur-Appenadal.  Tamar, Kahn, and Necho relented and joined sometime later, Ashdornepul left and was never heard from again, while Eshur joined the League of Bronze Knives and is the current leader.  The White Guard has been protecting the Earth and the human race since it's founding, especially from the League.  The White Guard does not have a central leader, instead all the members hold a yearly council at St. Petersburg.  After the Muslims conquered Egypt, the Guard moved to Constantinople, but after that was taken by the Ottomans, they moved to Moscow.  When St. Petersburg was founded, a problem arose in the new city, so the White Guard went and solved the problem, but the Guard decided to stay in the city, making St. Petersburg, to this day, the world headquarters of the White Guard.

DPIR.

Department of Paranormal Investigation and Research:
HQ: Perseus, NY.
Function: Paranormal investigation government department.
Founding:  Prof. Thomas Brown and Dr. Kelvin Cook, 1824, Washington DC.
Symbol: A silver eagle holding Excalibur and the Caduceus of Hermes, with Aegis on his chest.

After purchasing the Louisiana Purchase and the Montpellier Cache, the US government searched for intelligent men to study the artifacts purchased from France, including how to wake the idle Napoleon Jr.  Prof. Thomas Brown from Harvard College was selected.  He went to DC and was given a lab and government funding, Thomas, after three months of study, needed co-scientists, so the government searched for the smartest scientists.  They found Dr. Kelvin Cook of North Carolina.  During a lightning storm, Cook channeled a bolt into Napoleon; awakening the comatose automation.  Thomas opened the two-person group to the other scientists, calling it the Congregation of Paranormal Science.  Slowly, the group grew to nearly a hundred scientists.  In 1874, Lance DeMoi joined the Congregation as a protector for the scientists during expeditions.  While on a dig in Palenque on 1877, Lance stumbled upon an Aryan Crystal, after touching it, the crystal exploded pumping energy into Lance, and it exploded and shot a shard into his right eye.  Lance became the first member of the Special attributes corps, or SACorps.  The Congregation, in 1885, found Chester at the bottom of Chesapeake Bay, the Dweller was the second member.  In the same year, Alexander Sherman, a human with energy storage powers, joined, thus the first generation of the SACorps was made.  The generations passed on, though Lance and Chester remained, until 2010, the current members being: Sirius Potter as commander, Lance, Chester, Otto van Hamburg, Alison King, Sal, Richard Reynolds Jr, and the newest addition, telepath Bianca Thorne, granddaughter of the great psychic Sydney Thorne.          

Mr. Antiochus' Wondrous Magical Traveling Carnival.

Mr. Antiochus: ringmaster, 200 year-old sorcerer.
Draco: man-dragon.
Robin Cage: stage magician.
Tulip: pixie.
Kaizer: vampire.
Quimby: demi-god.
Maggie: resistance to pain.
Creature: physical animal qualities.
Rowena: short teleportation, enhanced agility, minor conjuring.
Roslyn Addams: extreme flexibility (resigned, deceased).
Rupert and James: mentally linked twins, psychotaxonomy (resigned, deceased).
King Lear: daemon (resigned).

Seleucus: demon, janitor, animal wrangler.

Founded by Mr. Antiochus in 1746, the Carnival has traveled around the world giving magical performances and picking up special attributes.  Currently, the Carnival is doing a tour  through the US.    

Edward Cooper.

England, 1963.
Charlie leaned against the hummer, breathing hard, a fresh cut on his arm sent gushes of hot, sticky blood rolling down  to the ground.  He threw an empty bullet cartridge aside and slapped in a new one.  Charlie peeked around the hummer; scanning the graveyard for any more zombies, he could hear them not far off.  Suddenly, Edward came bursting out of some bushes, gun blazing, whooping in excitement.
"Zombies don't like when you shoot at them!"  Cooper called to Charlie, who groaned.
Charlie tied his wound with some gauze from the hummer as Edward ecstaticly mowed down the horde of zombies.  Probably waking up all of Ipswich.  Edward finally came behind the hummer, reloading his gun.
"Aw, they scratch you?"  He said to Charlie.
"Only a little."
Edward gulped down some water from his canteen and wiped the sweat from his eyes.
"Ipswich shouldn't be bothered anymore by by night-time bogeymen anymore."  He said, surveying the dismembered corpses strewn about the graveyard.
"Now, let's find the witch or sorcerer who's responsible for this."  Charlie said, straightening and cocking his gun.
"No witch was responsible for this."  Said a chill, cruel voice.
Edward and Charlie whipped around guns ready to the sound of the voice.  A vampire stood atop a mausoleum, black robe flowing in the wind, sword in hand.  Edward inspected the vampire's face, he recognized the network of scars and the short, stocky build.
"Klaus, right?"  Edward said shakily, he had heard the stories about Klaus.
"I am he, and you must be Night Shift goons by the look of your uniforms."  Klaus leaped off the mausoleum and strode across the corpse-covered grass to stand only a few feet away from Charlie and Edward.  Klaus stared at both of them, licking his pale lips making his white fangs visible.  A cloud moved away from the full moon, casting eerie shadows with it's silvery light.   A wolf howled not far of.  Klaus listened carefully then whistled a sharp high whistle; the howling ceased and Edward could here something coming through the wood.  What that something was was a werewolf; huge and grey, with red eyes and two rows of fangs.  Then shaggy wolf turned into shaggy man who loped over to Klaus.
"Yes, master?"
"Them."  Klaus pointed with his sword.
The werewolf turned and growled at Edward and Charlie, his gnarled hands ready to crush the life out of either of them.
"Now, Edmund, I'm hungry, how about you?"  Klaus strode over to Edward, who had slipped a stake off his belt, a starved expression on his chalk-white face.
"Now..."
And Klaus lunged at Edward, mouth agape, fangs gleaming.
Edward thrust with his stake, but Klaus was ready for that and parried the blow.  Charlie unslung a cross bow aiming for Klaus's back; but Edmund leaped in front of the Night Shift agent, taking the crossbow in his massive hands and broke it like a child's toy.  Charlie gulped.
Klaus grabbed Edward's fighting arm in a death grip attempting to break it.  Edward tried to resist the steel grip, yelling in the effort, and slowly was able to shake the vampire off.
"Your strong,"  Klaus glanced at Edward's name tag, "Cooper.  But not that strong."  Klaus pulled back his fist.  Edward threw himself to the ground not a second to soon; a crater was left in the side of the hummer where, moments before, his chest had been.  Charlie went flying over the hummer, hit by Edmund like a volleyball, crash landing on top of the mausoleum, Edward and Klaus both stared for a moment then resumed their fight.  Edmund came lumbering over, hands ready to strangle the prone agent, he picked up Charlie as easily if he were a child and wrapped a grizzled hand around his comparably smaller throat.  Charlie limply raised his arm, a loaded revolver in his hand.  He fired thrice.  Edmund stood on wobbling legs, then keeled backwards crashing down on a grave stone, reducing it to rubble.
The sound of tires on gravel reached Klaus's and Edward's ears, two hummers spotlights on, came around the corner, Night Shift agents jumping out rushing over to Edward.
"Edmund!"  Klaus was already at the edge of the trees.
The werewolf stumbled to his feet and limped after his fleeing master, off into the night.
Edward hurried over, kneeling next to Charlie.
"You alright?"
Charlie smiled propping himself up on his elbows, "It's only a scratch."
Edward looked back at the forest; there was no sign of Klaus and his grunt.
A cloud drifted in front of the waxed moon, blocking it's baleful rays.                  

Child of Tomorrow.

Tiberius Hill weaved his way among the twisting pipes, wriggling his nine-year-old body through the tight spaces.  It was pitch black, but he could see as well as if it were day, in fact he could see a lot.  He could see the tiny particles of rust on the metal pipes, he could see the individual drops of moisture on the metal ground, and such miniscule detail.  He froze, then slipped like a shadow behind a pipe as a Sweeper's spotlight swept the area, a momentary ray of white light in the smoggy night.  The beam scanned the pipes, then the Sweeper moved on, down the alleyway.  Tiberius continued his way through the pipes, the looming walls of the steel foundry on either side.  He came to the tracks for the supply train for the factory.  On the other side of the rails was clear of pipes; just clear metaled alley, away from the foundry.  Tiberius scurried across the tracks, wary of watchmen on the compound wall.  On the other side of the railway, away from the steel foundry compound, Tiberius straitened and wiped the grease from his oversized, ratty leather jacket.  He continued away, deep into the twisting alleys of the Bronx, where most wouldn't wander.  But Tiberius went where he pleased and none payed any attention to him.  Except the Sector; they'll chase him anywhere.  He went past dark, towering glass and steel towers, to his home; a derelict, abandoned, storage building.  Not far from an old apartment duplex.  Tiberius settled down in the trash-filled nook that was his bed and slept.    

Lance DeMoi and the Call from the Deep.

Lance was startled to awareness by the ringing of his telephone.  He blindly fumbled about in the dark for his phone, he finally found it and put the phone to his ear..

"You better have a good reason for calling at three in the morning."  He mumbled into the phone.

"I do.  Come to Massachusetts, Essex Bay."

Lance recognized the husky voice as Spark Roberts, a freelance paranormal investigator.
"Now?"  Lance grumbled.
"Yes.  Now."
Lance stumbled out of bed over to his dresser.  He dressed and put on his black leather jacket, brushed his teeth, contemplated his life for a few minutes, and fed Wallace.  His turtle sleepily poked his head out from under his shell as Lance went out the door.  Lance locked his house, though the locals know better than to break in, got on his motorcycle and drove to Little A'Le'Inn.  He parked his motorcycle and walked in, out of the freezing night.  Sid, tall a collage-aged boy, was asleep behind the bar, Lance walked over and rang the attendance bell.  Sid jumped a foot in the air, drool flying off his chin. He blinked, wiping the saliva of his chin with the back of his hand.
"Oh, Mr. DeMoi, it's you.  Would you…uh…like something?"
"Coffee and an Alien Burger.  Make it fast."  Lance slapped some money on the table then leaned back in the stool.  Sid shuffled back into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.  Lance looked up the glowering werewolf head mounted on the wall above the bar, it's glass eyes staring down at the inhabitants of the bar.  Lance heard snoring; he looked and saw Ernie and Bernie passed out on a table in one corner of the restaurant.  Sid came out of the kitchen, a steaming styraphome cup of coffee in one hand, and a plate with the burger on it in the other.  Lance wolfed down the burger, sipping his coffee while he ate.
"So, where off to now, Mr. DeMoi?"  Sid asked, taking the empty plate, his sleeves were rolled up so, his dragon tattoo was visible on his left arm.
"Massachusetts, of all places."  Lance grumbled, "not even sure why.  Well, I'll be seein ya."
Sid waved goodbye as Lance left the little bar.  He mounted his motorcycle and drove through the chill morning to Alamo.  He rode to the Landing Field and got off his bike and looked around for Quincy.  Quincy was a friend of Lance's and a pilot.  Lance found his friend dozing in a storage room, he roused his friend.  Quincy snorted and opened his eyes.
"Well, Mr. DeMoi, what kin I do ya fer?"
"I need you to fire up your plane.  I have a quick trip to make to Boston."
Soon Lance was in Quincy's custom-made jet, going faster than a commercial airline.  In seven hours, Lance was standing on the sunlit hill, overlooking the Atlantic.  Spark Roberts, suddenly and soundlessly, was standing next to Lance.  He still wasn't quite used to that.
"Roberts,"  Lance said.
"DeMoi," said the other.
"Why'd you want me to come here, Spark,"
"Where we stand is the site of Innsmouth, a town not fully in this reality, it looks into the ocean, where, an ancient, lost, civilization rests.  Stare into the Bay's waters, Lance."
Lance grumbled about wasted time and sleep, but he peered deep into the blue-green water of the Bay.  He saw something move, then; blackness.
Lance awoke in his little house back in Rachel, he gasped, cold sweat running down his face; vague images of madness and tentacles slithering to the back of his mind.                     

It has been seven days since everything stopped.  The people vanished.  All of them, everyone in the world.  I haven't met another soul in all this time.  I collected as much food as I could in towns, along with ammunition, but I had to know what the world was like outside of my city sanctuary, so I left.  I was originally from Manchester, New Hampshire, I was an accountant for Cyberus Co., a computer company.  One day I woke up, and looked out the window; no one was outside.  No paper boy; just a bike and sack on the curb.  No Mr. Johnson sipping his coffee and watering the yard; a cracked coffee mug and running water hose sat idly on his front step.  Cars sat idle in the street, dog houses were vacant, trees were empty of bird-song.  The city proper was pretty bad; the streets were packed with cars, still running, so I walked to the Cyberus building.  It was empty to.  All the computers were still on.  I soon gathered up as many belongings I needed in my big back pack, took a gun from Brockman's Firearms and went off into the unknown.  In the seven days since I left, I've traveled to the northern border of Massachusetts.  Though I haven't seen any form of life, I think I see smoke in the distance, it could be a wild fire, though it's rather small.  Oh well.  And though I'm alone, sometimes at night when I'm huddled around my campfire, I think I hear things off in the woods.  Good thing I at least now how to shoot a gun.  Well that's all for now, I guess.

Recording of Jeffery Westroad, seven days after the Blackout.        

Quest

From  your little cottage, head down the north path.
Stop by the well at the top of the green hill and make a wish.
Keep going north until you reach the crone in the wagon.
Give what she asks for, she will give you a watch; then go northwest to the gnome's burrow.
Do not give the gnome what he wants, throw him down the river.
Take the gnome's compass and follow the north road.
You will reach a gate, you must lie to the guard to get by.
Go to the castle to the north.
Enter the main hall; there are three doors guarded by three owls.
One lies, one tells the truth, and one carries away the questioner (hint: it is not the middle one or his brother).
Once past the owls through the correct door; go down the east passage.
You will meet cooks and beggars, asking for help; only give it to the wall-eyed, one-legged one.
He will give you an iron key; go up the northern stairs to the top and open the door with the key.
Once in the tower; a djinn will try to tempt you; do not fall for it, take the djinn's daimond belt.
Count to five and jump out the only window to the west; a flying carpet will catch you.
Fly the carpet to the tree with three trunks; get off and travel south along the dirty brook.
A fairy will come from the brook and ask you to help her clean the river; do so.
She will give you a clam for your efforts; do not open it, go south.
You will reach a fork, the wind will tell you to go a certain direction; go the opposite of what it tells you.
You will come to two huts; a witch lives in one and a sage in the other, enter the one with the sage in it.
He will ask for the belt; give it to him.
The sage will give you a book in return; read only the 700th page, do what it says.
You will come to a tower guarded by four ogres; give the western ogre the compass, he will leave, enter the door.
Four bottles sit before you in a room ringed with fire; one is poisoned, one summons a demon, one returns you home, and one cancels the flames, drink this last one. (it is not the one to the left or middle)
Go up the white staircase.
Five doors are at the top; enter the middle one.
The princess held captive in the room will ask you to stay with her; you must refuse.
Press upon her the importance of your mission.
She will give you a rope, a mirror, and a potion; do not drink the potion.
Use the rope to climb down the tower, use the mirror to direct sunlight on the ogre, it will turn to stone.
The princess will follow you; lead her down the western path.
It is getting dark; you must keep going though.
Continue down the path to the ferry; give the ferryman the clam, he will take you across the river.
Take the torch from the pile of hay; light it and take the two horses waiting for you, take the middle path.
A man will tell you he is a guide; do not look at him or talk to him.
You will come to the foot of the dragon's mountain; drink the potion.
Take the sword and slay the dragon; take none of his treasure except a ruby necklace.
Go down the other side of the mountain; a sphinx will be waiting.
It will ask a riddle; answer correctly. (the answer: A key, a rabbit, and a pot.)
Be warned; once you turn your back on the sphinx it will attack you.
Tell the sphinx the riddle read from the 700th page from the book; it will fail and eat itself.
You will come to a mountain pass that splits in two; take the one that the falcon flies over.
Follow the falcon; do not look around, only at the falcon.
You will come to a river; a fox offers to take people across, do not except.
Use the mirror to show the fox it's reflection; it will attack, run across the ford to the north.
Follow the runestones through the field, you will arrive at a dwarf's house; rest there for the night.
In the morning, the dwarf will tell you where to go, give him the watch or he will follow you.
You will find yourself in the Great Wood; search for the fairy ring with the purple toadstool, be wary elves will be watching.
A fairy will appear and demand why you are here; giver the ruby necklace.
She will tell you the way to the king's castle and a water skin, go there.
Give the princess to the king, he will tell you the way to the Garden and give you a sword.
Follow the path north.
You will find a great river; a bridge crosses the river.
A troll will come up and try to eat you; slay him with your sword.
Follow the path east to the giant cliff, climb it with your rope.
The Garden is at the top; a riddle is inscribed on the gate.
The badger knows the answer, find his burrow.
Give him the mirror, he will tell you the answer.
Take one and only one apple from the tree; then flee.
The warlock will chase after you.
Run to the cliff, throw the water from your water skin at him.
The warlock will melt.
Do not eat the apple; return home.
And rest...

Deceased SACorps agents.

Cmdr. Alexandre Sherman:
Sex: Male.
Age: 48.
Date of Death: August 24, 1917.  Munich, Germany.
Special attributes: Energy battery.
One of the first three members of the SACorps, and the only one to die.  Alexander died during World War 1.

Sgt. Peter Smimov:
Sex: Male.
Age: 57.
Date of Death: March 15, 1947.  Moscow, Russia.
Special attributes: Magician.
A skilled magician and former member of Antiochus's Carnival.  Peter was possessed by Nimue and was killed by Lance and Ariadne.

Capt. Sydney Thorne:
Sex: Female.
Age: 75.
Date of Death: September 2, 1996.  Concord, Mass.
Special attributes: Psychic.
The only member of the SACorps to die of old age.  She died peacefully in her home at Concord.

Col. Roslyn Addams:
Sex: Female.
Age: 36.
Date of Death: July 10, 1974.  Kansas City, Missouri.  
Special attributes: Extreme flexibility.
A former employee of Antiochus, Roslyn died during the Seven Days of Darkness.

Lt. Dr. Charles Swift:
Sex: Male.
Age: 44.
Date of Death: July 1, 1940. Iraq.  MIA.
Special attributes:  Physical animal qualities.
Charles went missing in Iraq below the Euphrates.

Cmdr. Ariadne Jones:
Sex: Female.
Age: 29.
Date of Death: October 30, 1948.  Mount Tai, China.
Special attributes: Mind control.
Died fighting the Dragon King.

Lt. Mandy:
Sex: Female.
Age: 32.
Date of Death: January 16, 1961.  Sub-Mediterranean.
Special attributes: Precognition.
Drowned in Atlantis, allowed Lance to escape.

Cmdr. Milo Smith:
Sex: Male.
Age: 40.
Date of Death: March 23, 1982.  Manhattan, NY.
Special attributes: Pyrokinesis.
Slain by occultists in New York subway.

Capt. Harley Green:
Sex: Male.
Age: 45.
Date of Death: February 25, 1985.  Carpathian Mountains, Romania.  
Special attributes: Werebear.
Killed by Dracula as Harely and Lance fled.

Col. Daniel Chun:
Sex: Male.
Age: 26.
Date of Death: September 3, 1968, Mt. Everest, Nepal.
Special attributes: Chi, martial arts expert.
Destroyed by the Mahatmas.

Lt. Kishba:
Sex: Female.
Age: 800.
Date of Death: November 19, 1956.  Tatra Mountains, Slovakia.
Special attribute: Slavic faerie.
Killed by Zeus.

Sgt. Rupert and James:
Sexes: Males.
Ages: 31.
Date of Deaths: December 4, 1945.  Tehran, Iran.
Special attributes: Mentally linked twins, psychtaxonomy.
Died fighting Fifth Star Cult.

Lance DeMoi and the Coven Covenant.

Lance leaned over Allison's shoulder.
"According to the Wicce Compendium, it's a witch symbol.  It looks like an upside down triangle with an X across it?  I think it is a symbol for war."  Napoleon said over the headset.  Lance swiped a bit of the nearest edges, he tasted it.  He spat.
"Tastes like lead, newt's eye, and nightshade."
"That's definately a witch formula.  And, Lance, there are other ways to test the components of witch symbols."
A Los Angeles detective, Clark, edged over.
"And what, uh, what department are you guys from again?"  He looked first at Lance then at the symbol on the brick wall.
"DPIR."  Lance flashed the officer his badge, "Cpt. Paranormal Investigator Lance DeMoi at your service.  And this is my partner, Sgt. King."  They shook hands.  The detective stared uneasily at Lance's right eye, which was green and glowed gently.
"May we see the victim, Detective?"  Allison asked.  He nodded and lead them to the ambulance.  Lance and Allison folded back the white covering: the dead actress was popular during her life.
"No signs of external or internal wounds or injuries, no poisons, or drugs it appears, I don'-"  The detective was saying, Lance cut him off.
"It was either a spell or a rare black magic poison.  We're dealing with a witch orchastrated murder here, Officer."
Clark pushed his glasses up his nose.
"A spell?  Really?  Chief wasn't lying, this murder is weird."
"Was the victim, the actress, involved in anything unusual?"  Asked Allison as they walked into the house.  The inspector thought for a moment.
"Yes, I think so.  Kimberly was involved in a large variety of clubs and organizations."
Lance and Allison surveyed the place where the body was found and any questionable items.
"Mind if we look about?"  Lance asked.  The detective glanced over to his superior, who nodded his consent.
"Yes, you may."  The three of them walked through the actress's mansion: past large, richly decorated lounges, an enormous kitchen, in which Kimberly's caretakers were being questioned by police, and other such gilded rooms.  Lance scanned the walls, floor and ceiling with his magic eye for any hidden doors or rooms.  He stopped outside her bedroom.
"In there.  There's a hidden trap door, it leads down into the basement."  They entered, passed the investigators searching the room and tried open the little door.  It was tightly sealed.  Lance brought his heel smashing down on the wood planks; the broken door fell down the shaft, he leapt down onto the ladder.  Bianca and Clark followed.  The ladder lead them down into a crawl space, separated from the rest of the mansion by thick, concrete walls.  Lance and Bianca looked around the room: it was filled with, large, leather bound books, cauldrons, voodoo dolls and bone implements.
"Looks like like little Miss Pretty was a bride of Satan."  Lance said, his right  eye scanning the chests and drawers.
Biance threw an arm in front of Clark and Lance.  "Wait.  I sense someone, or rather, something."
Clark whispered, "How?"  Bianca tapped her head with a finger.
"Telepath."
Bianca then motioned Lance toward a small door in the wall, they both drew guns loaded with silver bullets.  Lance kicked open the little door, gun at the ready.  A black shape flew out of the compartment beyond, but both Bianca and Lance fired.  The cat familiar flew against the wall as the force of the bullets hit it; Lance stopped over and picked the wounded animal off the ground.
"Name."  Lance demanded of the familiar.  The large black cat quivered, Lance shook it violently.
"Bartholemew!"  The demon whined.
"That's better.  So the famed actress Kimberly was witch.  Why?"
Bartholemew whimpered.
"She, my mistress, joined a club, the Five Star Nightclub.  After proving her devotion my mistress was allowed into the inner circles of the Five Stars. There, in a ritual, she was vested with eldritch powers from the Mistress.  But my master grew afraid of the Club, so she was going to talk to the authorities.  Now the Mistress couldn't allow that, so she had my master killed."
Lance nodded, "Good.  Now where are the headquarters of the Five Stars?"
The demon whimpered again.
"They're gone now, it's almost the Winter Solstice, they're going to the Witchmeet."
"Where is the Witchmeet?"  Bianca asked.  The DPIR had been searching for the site of the Witchmeet for years.
"Where the Wizendmeet is."  The demon managed a small sneer.  Lance smashed it upside the head with his gun.
"And where's the Wizendmeet?"
"Ireland!  It's at Ireland!  But first they'll be going to Salem"  Bartholemew gasped.
"Thank you."  Lance said politely.  He threw the demon against the opposite wall and shot it dead.
"All right then.  Bianca, call Richard, we're going to Salem."  Lance told Bianca as he holstered his gun and walked toward the ladder.                  

Homo Cosmicus.

It's the year 3089, the human species has devolved another step, though most still call it evolution.  They call themselves H. Cosmicus, the humans of the future, masters of the stars and worlds.  The Milky Way has been colonized by mankind.  Faith in God still prevails, though the average, secular human has no time for faith and the persecution of: there are still stellar codes to crack, evolutionary links to be made, worlds to be industrialized, and so forth.  The frontiers of science of the 21st century were achieved long ago, now though, there are new unknown things in the unimaginably big universe.  The Homo Cosmicus, is always discovering more and more science.  Or are they?  Are they just rediscovering facts that we knew in our long, ancient past?  We don't evolve, we wear down, we devolve: even our bodies degenerate, we get old and die.  The men of the future only live for an average of fifty years, though technology has allowed them to live extended, bastardized lives.  The only way for mankind and the universe to truly change is through one person,  Jesus Christ.     

Deep Space Colonization Program-NASA.

In the year 2112, deep space telescopes found the planet Persephone to be habitable.  So with MDR Corp funding, the UNOE made three ships: the Magellan, the Galileo, and the Armstrong.  The ships were loaded with settlers, crewmen, and soldiers and shipped off to Persephone.  While on the long journey, space-born bacteria got into the Armstrong's ventilation and got into the crew's hypersleep chambers, infecting them with a disease called Bedlam.  The Armstrong stalled and was left behind by the other two ships, who's crew members kept sleeping.  UNOE Space Control couldn't contact the Armstrong anymore, the intercom was broken.  The Magellan and Galileo continued for another few Earth generations toward their destination, Persephone.  Armstrong was left near the planet named Ogygia.

Klaus van Aachen.

It was a dreary, rainy day in the Holy Roman city of Aachen.  Klaus gazed out the opaque window onto the dirty street below; he saw merchants, artisans, soldiers, and commoners trudging through the muddy street.  He turned away from the window and crouched beside his ailing mother, Hanna.  His mother looked up at him.
"Klaus?  Is that you?"  Klaus's mother said in German.  Hanna's voice was weak.  Her face was sweaty and pale with fever; she had been bed ridden inside their little apartment for weeks.
"Yes, Mother, it is me, Klaus.  I'm going out, Mother, but I will be back soon, with medicine."  Klaus said.
"Where are you getting the money for all these fancy medicines, Klaus?"  Hanna furrowed her sweaty brow.  Klaus freshened her cold head cloth.
"Do not worry about that, Mother, just rest and drink water."
His mother nodded wearily and laid back, deeper onto the straw mattress.  Klaus put on his cloak and placed his hat over his head, he grabbed and strapped on his knapsack, then headed outside, into the rain.  It was nearly dusk by the time Klaus exited the bank; he had built up a small sum of money, no thanks to his brother, Lukas.  Klaus bought some groceries from the last straggling merchants, then headed to the nearby chapel as the fat disc os light disappaered behind the horizon.  He shook his boots of, then walked down the aisle of pews; he sat down in one and prayed inwardly that God might forgive him.  He had never been one for confession.  The paster, Wilhelm, came out and was sweeping the floor, when he noticed Klaus.
"It has been a long time since you were in church, Klaus."  Fr. Wilhelm said, sweeping up dust.  Klaus grunted.
"Well, I'm not the most pious man."
"Then confession and penance are in order."
A thunderclap boomed outside.
"No.  I think I should just go."  Klaus put his hat on and quickly left the church.
Klaus walked past a gambling den, he saw his brother, Lukas, willing their families money away on drink and game.  Klaus adjusted his beret and continued on his way to the pharmacy.  He broke open a window, evaded pharmacy employees, and filled his sack with the needed drugs.  Klaus accidently ran into an old pharmacist, Klaus had no choice but to kill the elderly man.  He grabbed his knife and slipped it in between the pharmacist's ribs, right into the heart.  The man fell over dead, his blood soaking into the wooden planks.  Klaus ran away as some other workers came around the corner, but they didn't see him fortunately.  He was able to slip back to their apartment, and give his mother some medicines.
"Oh, Klaus, how did you get these drugs?"  Hanna asked, sitting up somewhat to take the medicines.
"Well, I have been saving up money for sometime.  Now just rest and get better."  Klaus smiled at her, giving his mother a dose of drugs.

Tears tumbled from Klaus's eyes as he watched his mother's coffin disappear beneath a layer of earth.  He looked up at the scrubbed clean blue sky and the beautiful spring day.  Why must the day be so beautiful when his mother is not here to see it?  Wilhelm finished the funeral prayers and said a final farewell
"Rest well, Hanna; daughter of Jonas and Lena, now past, wife of Otto, who fell to the Turks, mother of Marie, may she rest in peace, Lukas, and Klaus.  May God be merciful to you."  Wilhelm wiped a tear from his eye and closed his book.  Klaus put a little bunch of flowers at his mothers headstone.  He stood by his mother's grave as all the other attendants left.  It was a while until he heard the stumbling steps of his drunk brother.  Lukas came up, he wiped his nose on his filthy shirt, he looked at his mother's grave with uncaring eyes.  Klaus gritted his teeth and clenched his fists as his older brother stumbled up next to him.
"Why so down, Klaus?  Hmm?  So what that Mam is dead?  She didn't do anything, just cost money to take care of."  Lukas mumbled.  That just about did it for Klaus.  He slugged his brother in the face with all his might.  Lukas flailed backwards falling on the ground.
"You're one to talk about wasting money, you gutless pig!  It is because of your filthy habits that we couldn't afford a real physician!  It's because of you that Marie and now Mother are dead!"  Klaus roared, beating his brother while he spoke.  Covered in blood, Lukas jumped to his feat and smashed his fist into Klaus's temple, who fell over, dazed.  He sprang back up and snatched Lukas's half empty rum bottle and brought it smashing down on Lukas's head.  His brother fell to the ground, cold.  Klaus knelt beside him.
"I think this is the best path for you, Brother.  May you rot in the Ninth Circle."  Klaus left Lukas's corpse in the graveyard, he went to their empty apartment, gathered his things, and left Aachen; the city where he had lived all his life.

Klaus studied the gilded crown.
"Hmm, solid gold crown, yet it doesn't look like any craftsmanship I've seen."  He tossed the crown in his sack.  He had been robbing houses and estates in and around Vienna for months now, he had left Germany far behind.  He was about to leave the little ransacked room, when a figure came through the door, letting moonlight stream into the apartment.  Klaus and the stranger froze, Klaus thought this mysterious owner of the room would be home later.  The owner came over to Klaus; he wore a cloak, tunic, trousers, and leather boots.  He also wore a bulging knapsack on his back and had a sword on his hip.
"Now what would you be doing in my room?  And I'm guessing that sack is full of my possessions?"  The stranger spoke fluent German, though with a Hungarian accent.  Klaus saw a glimpse of the stranger's skin; chalk white.  And the man's eyes looked red, and slits for pupils.  Klaus started to freak out, the tales of vampires coming to his head.
"W-who are you?"  He stammered keeping his eyes on the stranger.
"You can call me Rolf.  Now please give back my treasures."  Rolf took another step forward.  Klaus threw the bag of goods, drew his knife, and leaped for the nearest window.  But a hand like iron and twice as cold, grabbed him around the waist and threw him against a wall.  Rolf held him their with a single hand.
"Do you know the importance of this crown, Thief?"  Rolf asked, holding the crown in his other hand.  Klaus didn't move or make a sound.
"I didn't think so."  Rolf smiled, "This is the Crown of Horus, made by the Hyperboreans.  Now I'm not sure what it does, but Lord Dracul will find out once I return to Noctheim."
Klaus was lost and bewildered; it was a simple break in, until this pale freak came in and started blabbing about weird places and things.  Rolf looked at Klaus.
"I think you would make a good vampire; you hate everyone around you, you don't fit in, your sad and weighed down by human emotions, at least, that's what I guess.  If you'd rather just die, then I can do that too.  Your choice."
Klaus mumbled something, so Rolf moved his hand, Klaus coughed.
"W-what are y-you?"  He gasped.  Rolf smiled again.
"Why, I'm a vampire."
A flash of fangs, and then, blackness.                                

New Earth.

Three hundred years of war between the planets Earth and Mars caused much devastation, finally the UNOE Congress and the Martian king made an uneasy truce.  But then a UE spay detonated a bomb in the martian palace, killing the king and hundreds of others.  Mars fired it's fusion bombs on Earth, killing thousands.  As the new war raged on, a group of desperate Telluric and Martian humans gathered on Mars and built a vast ship, dubbed it the Ark, boarded it and flew off, to the binary Alpha Centuri system.  It took years to get to Alpha Centuri, all the passengers were put into cryostasis.  When they reached the Centuri system they found five giant gas giant; Rhea, Cronus, Oceanus, Hyperion, and Prometheus. Hyperion was surrounded by four moons; Eos, Amphitrite, Apollo, and Persephone.  The two suns were dubbed Helios and Hephastus.  The refugees landed on Persephone, a lush, spring-time moon.  But it was already inhabited by a humanoid alien species: the xali.  Eos was inhabited by none, Amphitrite was inhabited by the ieu, and Apollo was inhabited by the ner'i.  War was coming to the Alpha Centuri system.      

We'yn.

The moon Eos, the seventh moon of Rhea, was found by the UNOE (United Nations Of Earth) and MDR Corp.  They sent explorers and satellites.  The moon was inhabitated by sentient humanoids, the Xali.  The xali had red or purple skin, they were tall, seven to eight feet, and extremely fast and agile.  MDR Corp scans found a mineral, dubbed "Eosite"  in the caves and underneath the soil of Eos.  They sent giant mining rigs and workers and portable bases and Marines.  The xali were primitive, but quickly adapted to human's guns.  MDR Corp uprooted tribes of the xali and enslaved them, making the xali mine eosite.  But the enslavement of the xali enraged We'yn, the deity of the xali, who lived on the Mother Mountain.  He used his super strength and agility and power over the flora and fauna of Eos to destroy mining rigs, slay humans, and free his people.  He then chased after a shuttle that was taking some of the mineral to Earth, along with some xali slaves.

Lance DeMoi and the War for Wonderland.

Lance DeMoi knew it was going to be a weird day when Anias, Secretary Mannings's secretary, said he had someone in his office, and that someone was a white rabbit.  Wearing a waistcoat.
Lance walked to the other side of his cubicle, he looked over the sea of cubicles and saw the other SACorps members working their way over.
"So... Mister, uh?"  He asked the fretting rabbit.
"Albus Coney, royal diplomat to the Heart monarchs."  The rabbit, Albus, held out his gloved paw.  After a slight pause Lance shook it.
"So, Mr. Coney, what brings you to the DPIR?"
"Well, the Wonderland Resistance sent me here for help.  Wonderland is torn in civil war!  Red and white pawns, knights, and rooks are everywhere!  When a stray card crushed the Queen of Hearts, the King was devastated, so then the Knave of Hearts struck, assassinating the King of Wonderland.  So then the Red and White queens claimed the right to rule.  There are few left who dare appose the queens."  Albus finished, looking at Lance.  Lance sat in his chair for a while, then reached down and withdrew two books from a drawer; Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, and Through the Looking Glass.  He put on his little reading glasses.  He flipped through the books for a moment, nodding his head every now and then.  He finished and put away the books and glasses.
"Well, Mr. Albus, what exactly do you want the DPIR to do about Wonderland?"
Albus swallowed.  "We, the Resistance, want you to slay the Red and White queens."
Lance nodded.
"Yes, the DPIR have helped certain people in that way; saving the weak from the strong.  But, to get involved in an otherworldy civil war?  I can't say."
A flash of anger crossed Albus's face.  "This war in Wonderland will affect the real world, Sir, it will affect your minds, your dreams, even your imaginations!  And the queens will find the key to set loose the.. the Jabberwocky!"  Albus's eyes grew wide as he said this last part.  Lance sighed.
"I'll talk to Grey."

"Very well, Mr. Coney, the DPIR will send some agents to help with the Resistance.  DeMoi, who do you think should go with you?"  Grey said, the SACorps director.  Lance looked over at his colleugues;  he would have picked Bianca and Sal, but she was in Nepal, and Sal was in Texas, and he could only pick three more agents.
"Alison.  Your magic and folklore knowledge will serve us well.  Otto, you can come too.  And, as much as I hate it, Sirius.  Your brute strength could serve us well."  Lance said, he glowered at Sirius.  Alison and Otto came over to Lance, eager to get going on the mission.  Sirius turned to Grey.
"Seriously, Grey?  Four agents?  Just because some wimpy book characters need their pasty white behinds saved from stupid-Argh!"  Sirius stopped talking yelled because Albus had hopped over and bitten his hand.
"Wimpy book characters indeed!  We have been fending of the two queens for over a hundred years!"  Albus flattened out his waistcoat and adjusted hi monocle, giving Sirius a scathing look.
"So, how does one get to Wonderland?"  Alison asked.
"The entrances to Wonderland can only be hound by youths;  young and open-minded."  Albus asked.  Lance smiled.  "I know who can find an entrance."

Lance walked across the dark, manicured lawn, the moon high in the star-specked ebony sky.  He trod carefully, making sure not to wake Arnold and Rachael Clark; his first cousins five times removed who feared their freakish, immortal relative.  He jumped up twenty feet to the little balcony and the sliding glass door, which lead to the room of Alice Clark.  Alice was his daughter of Arnold and Rachael, she often referred to Lance as uncle, and he most often called her niece.  He walked to the sliding glass door and knocked very lightly, the fifteen year old girl woke with a start.  But once she saw that the knocker was her Uncle Lance she beamed and tip-toed to the door and opened it.
"Uncle Lance!"  She hugged him, "What are you doing here?  It's the middle of the night?"
Lance hugged her.  "You wouldn't mind coming with me on a mission would you?"  He smiled.  Alice smiled back.
"Of course!  That's so cool!  Let me change out of my PJs."  She dashed into her bathroom, and reappeared minutes later in wearing street clothes and a blue cardigan.  "Ready!  So what's your mission now, Uncle?"  She said closing her door.  Lance picked up his cousin and jumped from the balcony, landing with a muffled thud.
"I need you to find Wonderland."              

Spark Roberts.

Nestor "Spark" Roberts.
Sex: Male.
Age: 30.
Date of Birth: July 16, 1979.  San Antonio, TX.
Parents: Kevin and Grace Roberts.  
Nestor Roberts or Spark Roberts, is a vigilante paranormal hunter.  He has been a tireless crusader against the Templars and Freemasons.  Spark Roberts wears a black shirt, over which he has a bullet proof vest, he also wheres a trench coat.  He has a golden necklace, with a circular gold pendant on it, with his symbol, a fist surrounded by rays of light, etched into it.  Spark can burn his symbol into his foes, and on any surface he desires, he knows where important events are happening, he often gets premonitions about them, he can leap great distances, and endure long falls.  Roberts is a loner, he lives and fights alone, except he once helped Lance DeMoi stop the Templars from summoning Baph, and they both stopped the Masonic-engineered armageddon, Spark and the DPIR SACorps also united to stop the making of the man-made stargate.  Spark Roberts was killed by a government assassin  when he was thirty-seven.  Though his ghost, he asked the archangel Michael if his form could still appear on Earth.  He appears as a ghost when he is needed.        

Lance DeMoi and the Eldritch Machine.

Lance sifted through the cracked, dirty sheafs of parchment.  Otto and Chester looked around the dark and dirty New York apartment.  DPIR agents guarded the door and marked and examined the crime scene.  Chester felt different objects in his tentacles, and Otto scrutinized technical diagrams and bits of machinery.  Lance looked up at the pale, emaciated body lying on the table.  Otto walked over and looked at the corpse.
"It looks like a vampire attack."  He said, pointing at the two marks on the body's neck.  Lance shook his head.
"There's no venom in his bloodstream, and the distance and angle of the marks aren't right for a vampire.  Whoever murdered him wanted it to look like a vampire, or he stuck him with a needle twice for whatever reason.  Besides, the landlord found ol' Corpsey in the building, a vampire can't enter human dwellings."
Otto was silent for a moment, then he snapped his metal fingers.
"Alison and I were investigating a murder in Philadelphia, same two marks in his neck and emaciated look, and he was an old master mechanic.  Otto dug around in the dead man's pockets, and withdrew his wallet.  He took out his ID.
"Maxwell Krauss."  He said.  Lance stood up and looked at Krauss's passport and license.
"And an electrician."  Lance said.
"So... the murderer is a Luddite?"  Otto chuckled.
"Or Mr. Murder likes taking out his contacts?" Said Lance,  "All the big bad mysterious bad guys do that, it's overdone."
Chester floated over to them, the Dweller's tattoos glowed slightly.
"Magic has been worked here, it lingers still in the air."  Chester said in his squeaky voice.
"So, Krauss is, or was, in on something.  You know like,"  Lance raised his eyebrows, "Something."
Otto tapped his nose with a finger, "I get you."
Lance's cell phone started ringing, he looked at the caller ID.
"Ah, it's Bianca."
He answered the cell phone, "I knew you'd finally call me!"
"No, Lance, no.  Anyway, Sirius and I are in DC, it's a murder,  exactly like the one Otto and Alison investigated early this month; two puncture wounds in the neck, and-"
"And a shriveled up corpse, oh and some master technician or something.  Exactly like what were looking at."
"Our stiff was some crusty plumber, very experienced though."  Bianca said over the phone.
"A mechanic, electrician, and plumber.   Someone wanted something examined or fixed, and something magic too.  But also something secret.  Bad guys are so predictable."  Lance said.
"Kain van Hompt wasn't predictable."  Otto said, smiling.  Lance's face flushed red.
"That was because he could mess with your brain and stuff, just like be quiet Otto."
"DC, Philadelphia, and New York, all three cities sit on the same ley line, now we should expect a similar murder in Boston."  Chester said.
"So, a murdering Luddite magician wants a magic machine, an infernal mix of sorcery and technology."

Lance DeMoi and the Templar Curse.

Lance stood over the mangled corpse, his trench coat blowing in the wind.  He had traded out his jumpsuit for the coat, a black t-shirt, and dark green pants.  Sal and Bianca examined the rest of the crime scene and NYPD officers were here and there.  Lance examined the dead man's ID.
"Gary Newton, age 43, Museum Keeper.  Murdered October 13.  Apparently killed by a bladed weapon, stabbed in the back and neck.  The murder then stole an old Crusades era sword from it's case."  He said into a recorder.  Sal was going through the museum catalog, trying to find what the sword's story was, and Richard, the DPIR psychometrist, read all the Keeper's items.  Bianca came out of the trance after reading the items, he turned to Lance.
"Watch this."  He put his hand on the Keeper's flashlight, Lance put his hand on the flashlight as well.  The room faded as Bianca used her psychometry on the hand light.
Gary Newton puttered around the Medieval Artifacts Room, making sure everything was in it's place before the museum closed.  He passed by the window, through which the evening sun streamed through.  Gary came to the old Crusades sword, a shape came up behind the window, the shadow smashed the glass, setting off the alarm.  The intruder was a zombie, but in clergical vestments and wielding a dagger.  Gary turned and ran, but the draug was faster and stabbed him in the back and neck.   Poor Gary hit the polished floor, his blood making a crimson pool around him.  The zombie went to the sword, smashed the case, and took the weapon.  It then fled, just as the guards arrived.
Bianca cut the conection.  Lance stood back and thought for a moment.
"Did I just see long dead Pope Clement the Fifth steal from a museum?"    

The overthrow of Kronos.

Kronos, lord of the Earth and Sky, walked to his pavilion.  The battle was not going in his favor.  The humans were pushing the demons from the land of the Javan.  He pushed past the harpy guards and entered the tent, his mood dropped even farther when he saw who was waiting for him, Zeus, one of his wily commanders, and Hera, Zeus's favorite concubine.  Zeus sat in Kronos's throne.

"Forgotten your place, Zeus?"  Kronos growled. Zeus reclined back on the throne, Hera leaned against his arm, a wicked smile on her beautiful face.

"No, Kronos, it's you who does not know his place."  Zeus smiled.  Kronos opened his hand, his silver sickle flew into it.

"Hermes! Ares!"  Kronos bellowed.  Ares, who was in the form of a bull-neck Nubian man wearing a leather skirt and wielding a solid bronze spear and circular shield,  Hermes followed, wearing his trademark flying sandals.

"You called, O Mighty An?"  Hermes sneered.  

"The humans have slaughtered the minotaur charge, Zeus."  Ares said, bowing to Zeus.  Kronos was filled with even more rage.

"Ares!"  He bellowed, "I am still lord of the Sky and the Nephalim!  You bow to me, and no other!"

Ares got up.

"Sorry, An, Enlil is now Lord of the Sky, and he's promised me and Hermes positions as one of the Twelve."

Kronos was filled with horror, he tried to call down a lighting bolt, to kill Zeus, but there was no response.  Then the air around Enlil, Zeus, began to crackle with electricity, his eyes glowed electric blue, he blasted Kronos with an enormous blast of lighting, sending the former demon lord flying out the pavilion.  After that, a war between the demons followed, where Kronos was defeated and taken by Hades to Tartarus, prison of the demons.