Reality Crisis

She had to get out. Go on a walk, something. The apartment she'd settled into was stuffy and empty and not like home at all, and honestly how was she supposed to sit still when there was an entire world out there full of... magic and monsters and mystery to discover? No way she was about to coop herself up indoors.

So she'd gone. Despite Oliver and Chloe's instructions to sit still and let them figure things out together, she'd slipped out of the apartments in the middle of the night and started walking. Where? Who the hell knew. She'd had some pretty bad experiences in the forest, so she struck out on a path away from them, towards... Well, more forest. But at least they were further away from the weird vine-octopus thing she'd been welcomed by a few days ago.

Bad idea? Maybe. But it'd satisfy her curiosity, at the least. And who knew, maybe there were other people around these parts she'd recognize...

Owen left after the meeting with Belia and walked straight to his things, gathering them from the place he had left them. Everything that was happening was too much to be believed, but everyone seemed to be behaving as if the party line was acceptable, hook, line, and sinker. Something about the woman made him think of the worst of Percy and Amanda rolled into one, but he couldn't begin to pinpoint why. Something seemed off.

Things gathered, he walked out of the compound and away from this crude form of civilization. He needed time to process this new input, and he couldn't do it with visual reminders of the confusion all around him. So he walked through the ruined streets and took in the evidence of a world destroyed. A world that wasn't his at all, but might be the only one that he'd ever have. A world without those closest to him, where he'd languish as an outsider. A world where he would be forever overshadowed by others that fell through, for when it's all said and done, how do you compete with a superhero? How do you compete with a conceived notion of the best of the human race? Or the worst, for that matter. Shining lights and deeper darknesses were both now equally likely in this 'new' reality.

He hadn't paid attention to his trek until he neared to the edge of the broken city, near the forest. Throwing down the duffel bag, Owen sat on the rubble of a shattered wall and sighed, looking up at a night sky full of constellations that he couldn't recognize. Was there even a way to get back home? Could he find it? More importantly, could he bring himself to do the things that he might have to do in order to find it? Sure as he was most of the time, Owen had never felt more lost than he did right then. All he wanted was a sharp quip from Nikita or Birkhoff, or even Micheal's disapproving glare. At this point, he'd settle for just being under a sky he could recognize as his own.

The situation was getting more dire now. Belia could tell that the walls between realities were getting more strained. More 'chosen' were showing up than ever. The apartment building that had been cleared out to accommodate potential new arrivals to this world now held a lot more than simply the two that had been the first arrivals.

She wanted very badly to believe that they would be the saviors of her world, as many of her people believed. She was too cynical for that however. Instead, she believed that they had the potential to help and could just as likely bring an end to even this meager existence that her people had had to fight tooth and nail for.

Extending hospitality, attempting to keep the chosen in her city and under her thumb was the best way she could think of to maintain control of the situation. She would do what she could to make sure that they had motivation to help and to ensure that she had enough warning to do something to prevent any of them causing this world lasting harm.


It wasn't perfect nor was it guaranteed, but it was all she had.

Her guards had notified her of the small handful of new arrivals that had shown up recently and so she sent them back out to collect the new chosen that had come to die Festung for a greeting. They were instructed to extend the invitation politely and only to use force if lives were in danger.

She waited in the room that was now much more frequently used for greeting newcomers. A wide array of food was spread out on the table, simply waiting for the chosen to indulge themselves if they so chose.

Wide eyed, Owen watched in both terror and curiosity as the small crack in the safehouse floor quickly grew, swallowing him in the process. It was sudden, yet painless, and for a moment, he thought he might be hallucinating. The blackness sucked him down to his knees like gravity magnified, and he struggled to keep hold on the dufflebag that he had collected from the other Guardian's possessions. Then, almost as quickly as it had set upon him, it was gone. The weirdest thing about it was the fact that it wasn't the weirdest thing at all.

Owen slowly stood to his feet, expertly trained senses taking in the sudden change in scenery. Less than a minute ago he had stood in a small London flat, the last known location of a man that he had been hunting. This was not London though, unless someone had decided to bomb the place in the last sixty seconds with the quietest bombs ever. It wasn't even morning, as it had been only minutes ago, but evening. He couldn't begin to explain what could have happened to cause the sudden shift in time and location. Perhaps he had been knocked unconscious and the blackness was his subconscious manifesting those last moments. If he had been though, why was he still alive and unrestrained?

First things first, re-establish contact, he thought to himself as he touched the small transmitter/receiver that he had in his ear. "Shadowwalker, something's happened. Do you copy?" There was no reply save for the static of a dead connection. Pulling the device out of his ear, he put it into his pocket and pulled out his phone, activating its GPS... which quickly ended in an error message. He shut the device off and then turned it back on, trying again to the same result.

Returning his phone and pulling his gun, Owen slowly walked down the debris-littered streets, careful to avoid kicking anything and making noise. The heavy bag slung over his shoulder rubbed against his shirt as he moved, his eyes scanning the broken and dilapidated buildings around him. None of the geography of the area was registering to him. The architecture was even off, for British standards. It all looked abandoned, though in the distance he thought he could make out a walled area. Perhaps he might find information there.