WARNING: What ain’t mine, ain’t mine…such as the Golden Glocks and Ravage and Killing Wind. That’s Showstopper’s ideas.

Beatdown Rage

Chapter 1: A City Divided

Eel Alley, Nu’u Sara, September 8th, 2025, After Midnight

A dark figure was carrying a winged girl in a pink nightdress. The figure ran quickly, and the girl was too stunned to say anything. An alarm sounded, and more footsteps were heard. The girl looked around, and did her best not to scream, when the light from a TV in an upstairs room illuminated the tip of a metal gun. The figure quickly jumped to the side, not dropping her in the process, as that gun fired.

The figure continued, and passed between rows of garbage cans. They were kicked down to provide cover, and the figure and the girl carried passed through a covered walk-way. They passed through a courtyard, rushing around a fountain. At the end, was a way into another alley. The figure looked left, lifted up one hand, and fired a bright glowing ball that hit the floor. A bright tongue of flame erupted. The figure went in the other direction. True to plan, the gunman went after the fire, not realizing that it was not a threat, but a diversion.

Eventually, they came to a narrow street. Only one light above a door provided any illumination. This street ended abruptly at a wall, but the sidewalk and road made it look like it continued. The wall was made out of ornate stone and mortar, and was topped like the wall of a castle. It also had searchlights attached to it, most of them aimed upwards. The girl was about to cry, but the figure covered her mouth.

“Don’t yell or cry until we’re on the other side of that wall. It’s too dangerous to fly,” said the figure, with a female voice.

She put the girl down, and focused. A pair of swirling bright yellow beams of energy swirled around, and crashed into the wall, making a large hole. The figure and the girl ran through. On the other side was a brightly lit street. The only lights that weren’t on where in a set of traffic lights, intended for an intersection that no longer existed because of the wall.

“Do you know your way?” asked the woman. The girl nodded, and began flapping her wings. “Slowly, I want to keep you company.”

A short distance later, they came to an apartment building. The girl rang the highest button, marked 7. “Who is this?” asked a voice.

“I have your girl,” said the woman, “she’s safe.” Moments later, the door opened, casting light and showing the features of the bright yellow hair and the orange and yellow spandex catsuit that this woman wore. On the chest area was a sun symbol with the rays resembling lightning bolts.

“SUNSTORM!” exclaimed two people in unison, both of them Ai’a’ive (winged people). They hugged their girl. “I’m sorry that Kera caused you so much problems. Where was she?” asked the father.

“Across the Wall, in Golden Glock territory. I suggest you tell her that the wall can’t be crossed.”

“We’re just happy our Cupcake is back,” said the mother. The girl started to cry.

“I want to see Stephy!” she whined.

“Who is Stephy?” asked Sunstorm.

“A friend of hers. She now lives on the other side of the Wall. I guess she decided to fly over.”

“Kera, listen carefully, if you do that again, maybe I won’t find you, and the Glocks don’t like people going over the wall, because they are mean, but you have to stay away from them. You can’t see Stephy until they are gone.” Sunstorm sighed. Trying to explain to kids that the city, and indeed the whole country, was divided was very difficult.

Sunstorm walked along that street, and then turned onto another one. This one had tram tracks in the middle. An occasional car went past. She passed a newsstand. The headline read “Curfew relaxed, Except Around Walls.” In Nu’u Sara, a Wall with a capital W was not a simple solid structure for dividing rooms, protection, and structural support, but one of the many barriers that divided the city of Nu’u Sara, and the country of Ai’a’ivea, into different occupation zones. Sometimes they were even called Berlin Walls, after similar structures of an age gone by.

There was a pair of metal tracks in the middle of this street, Hill Street. They were tram tracks, and she was sure the tram wasn’t running. She crossed a street, and on the other side, fewer lights were on, except for the Hill Street Precinct. That cop shop was lit up like a Christmas tree, she thought. At the end of the street, there were three tunnels, with brick arches. Two of them were for the tracks, and there were signs warning that no pedestrians or vehicles were allowed inside, it was reserved for the streetcars. The tunnel on the left was more interesting. It had a locked gate, with a handle above the keyhole. She produced a key, and, looking around, unlocked it. She opened and entered it, closing it behind. The tunnel was dim, except for a few overhead lights from the neighboring tunnels, which were visible through grated arches. She walked along a bare dirt ground. On her left side was the odd pipe or shaft, and there were a couple of doors marked “Ua Sa – Do Not Enter.” There was a wooden door with this warning that caught her eye. She unlocked and opened it, going into a tunnel with small LED lights, and it curved to the right. She opened another door, and entered what appeared to be a janitor’s closet. Behind a collection of mops lay a secret door disguised as part of the wall. She entered it, passing into a plainer passage. At the end was another door, leading into a living room.

“THERE YOU ARE,” yelled a male voice. A man came running to her. “We were worried shitless, Mara.”

“I just had to rescue a girl who flew across the border,” she explained. “Only ONE Glock went running after me this time. I can handle it, Jerrard.”

“You know I worry about you, Mara.” Gerrard frowned. He was tall, dark, bald and clean-shaven. He wore dark sunglasses, a red shirt, and bright yellow flared pants. He also had a medallion, with the letters SMASH DOWN in gold and jewels.

“Jerrard, I’m not Amelia.”

He was silent for a moment. “Ouch, major ouch!” He thought about Amelia, who was Mara’s sister, and his girlfriend. He still remembers when she missed a date, a few days ago, and then he found out she was dead. She was a spy amongst the Glocks, and tried infiltrating one of their zones. She was found out, her tattoo had red cross marks superimposed, and then she was publicly executed, in front of the Le Terasa shopping centre that was the Glock headquarters. She was cuffed and bound, with ropes usually used for restraining wild animals. She was able to walk, though barely, and was led around in circles with whipping. When she started to bleed, she was branded with a brand “traitor,” blindfolded, and then shot in the head twice and in the stomach once.

Her body, and a holo-tape of the entire gruesome ordeal, was delivered in a subway train, on the Catman/Teuila line. Nowadays normal passengers couldn’t take the train across the “borders” on that line, and even drivers were exchanged at the designated area. But this package was marked to go to the Royalist territory.

Jerrard saw Mara as more than a comrade, and Mara knew it. Somehow, Mara became a replacement for Amelia, at least in his mind. And maybe he felt this was the only way to redeem himself, since Smashdown, as Jerrard called himself, couldn’t do a damn thing. He thought about his super-hero group, Beatdown Rage. They were nothing like the Enega Warriors, who were the talk of the town. But every group did their part. He heard rumors that an upstart group from Chicago prevented the current conflicts from going full-scale nuclear.

“Are you having a late night?” asked someone else. In walked a male Ai’a’ive with almond skin. He had short jet black hair, and fiery orange wings with a few yellow spots. He only wore an ula, or lei, of white flowers and a brown and green lavalava or sarong. He had a tattoo of diamond geometric patterns arranged in an infinity symbol on his chest.

“Just fine, she went and took a risk,” said Jerrard.

“I saved a girl,” corrected Mara, angrily.

“So tell me the details,” requested the Ai’a’ive. Mara did so.

“I just hope there aren’t too many Ai’a’ive children flying over the walls. I bet they never had this problem in Berlin, Timu.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? You could have used Infin-8 to help you!”

“It was so last minute, I just heard a girl scream on the other side of the wall. I had no problems getting in. The Glocks don’t seem so worried about people getting in as they do people getting out.”

A female Ai’a’ive walked in. She was slightly shorter, had dark skin, and long black hair. Her wings were green with turquoise accents, and she only had a light blue bed-sheet wrapped around her body. She was carrying a large bottle of Peach Fanta. “Are any of you thirsty?” She looked at Timu. “Tuagane (brother), are you thirsty?”

“Not now, Fetu,” he replied.

“Sure, maybe some soda might help,” suggested Jerrard. “It’s one of the only things that still isn’t fucked up.”

“I’m going to sleep, I need it,” said Mara. “Good night everybody.” She waved to Jerrard, and hugged Timu and Fetu. She walked to a spiral staircase, and ascended.

B--

At the Border Mara Crossed

The Glocks wasted no time in closing that hole in the wall. A pair of Goldman and Gunn Security cars, along with a pickup truck, took position by the hole, and metal barricades were placed into position and chained together. One of the cars opened. Out came an Ai’a’ive teenage youth, no older than fifteen, with messy brown wings and even messier hair in a “mop” style. He wore a purple sarong with the logo of the Mop Dogs, with a golden gun next to it. The Mop Dogs were one of the local gangs that were absorbed into the Golden Glocks, while keeping their identity intact. He looked at the work. He gave a signal, and then someone in black body armor went to the pickup, and removed several Hurtas from the back. Hurtas were pieces of re-bar that were tapered and shaped to be painful. They were attached to the barrier, lest anyone try removing it. The Mop Dog flew up above the closed hole, and took out a can of spray paint. A warning was applied. “DO NOT EXIT” and “WE SHOOT ANYONE WHO TRIES ESCAPING” were spray-painted above the tunnel that Sunstorm blasted. The group was satisfied. There wasn’t enough time for anyone to notice the hole in the wall and try escaping. The citizens of Glock areas had become second class citizens in their own country. Entering or exiting without the proper authorization or bribe was not tolerated.

B--

The Situation Room, Beatdown Rage Headquarters, Next Day

The four were seated at a table, where a hologram map of the city of Nu’u Sara was hovering in mid-air. It was in colored sections. Purple indicated that which was Royalist, i.e. held by the legitimate government. Gold meant the Golden Glocks. Green areas belonged to Al-Harb, a ruthless Middle-East terrorist organization led by the enigmatic “Al-Kumr”, formed from many Islamic groups and popular with those who were once wealthy because of Mideast oil. With the discovery of a cheaper, cleaner alternative that could be harvested from the love fruit, Arabian crude oil became worthless. These fanatics saw the Ai’a’ive, who introduced the love fruit, as demons. Sections they took over were cleared of Ai’a’ive, with a threat that any of them who returned would be shot on sight, no questions asked. Timu and Fetu once lived in one of the green zones. Peacock blue meant the Commonwealth of Crooks, a rather upstart organization that had Glock-scale plans (in fact, one of its leaders was a former Glock lieutenant, and another one was a Mafia associate of them a long time ago.) Any area that was red was under control of the Syndicate of Sin, who in turn had control of the United States, and were aiding the Republican forces, who wanted to establish a republic, where everyone was equal, but certain elite big shots and major corporations would be more equal than everyone else. There were also a few grey zones, places of de facto anarchy, some of them there on purpose, such as the Three-Way Ghetto, so called because two streets, Death Row (formerly Perkins Avenue) and Skid Row (formerly Taro Street), and one river, the Blood (formerly the Rosa-O-Sarona) ran the length of this neighborhood. One side was bounded by Glock territory, the other, by Al-Harb. In the Three-Way-Ghetto, one could find spare weapons, prostitution, and designer drugs at cheap prices, and it was also a spot for street racing on Skid Row at night, with railroad crossing-style gates and lights that activated when a race was in progress. The final was the purple zones, of which there were very few. This meant territory that belonged to the Republic of Kiribati, due to pre-existing islands that predated Ai'a'ivea.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have some deep shit on our hands,” said Smashdown. He pressed a button. A flashing dot appeared on one of the Commonwealth sections. “Word is they’re building a missile launcher. The missiles they’re usin’ are Tomahawks, stolen from the US. They’re arrivin’ by convoy later today. What we have to do is stop the convoy, and then destroy the launcher. Are we game?”

“YES!” they shouted in unison.

Another dot appeared, near a border with Royalist territory. “This is the closest that damn convoy is coming to the border. When it hugs the wall, we’ll make it fall. Expected to be there around one this afternoon. Let’s kick ass!”

B--

Near the Commonwealth Border, Near H-Hour

A light red hover-van parked in an alleyway. The side door opened, and Smashdown came out. After having a look, he waved his hand, to signal Sunstorm, Infin-8, and Sparkle (Fetu) to join him. Infin-8 wore a black and dark green lavalava, and carried a custom-built triple-barreled plasma rifle. Sparkle wore a shiny blue mu’umu’u with star patterns on it. She didn’t carry anything, but didn’t need to. They came to the wall. The Commonwealth wall had a different design than the Glocks version, not having a walkway on top, preferring to have guards on the other side. The wall was made of stone sections that were topped with a spiked metal tube to make climbing difficult, if not impossible.

The group checked their watches, making sure they were synchronized. Then they began moving towards the wall. Smashdown and Sunstorm had appropriate scaling gear, while Infin-8 and Sparkle used their wings. This barrier was far more porous than the Glocks wall, and during the day large sections were left unnoticed. An informal network of lookout posts on the Commonwealth side and spies in apartment buildings doing a “stakeout” on the Royalist side was active at night.

Compared to the Glock section, it wasn’t as run down, but it was noticeably different.

“It’s almost time,” said Smashdown. They ducked into an alley, as they heard a motorcycle. A couple of female guards whizzed by on a motorcycle with sidecar.

“I hope the convoy isn’t guarded,” said Sparkle.

“It will be.”

They crept along, and came to the intersection that the convoy was supposed to arrive at.

B--

“This here’s Bone Machine,” stated a trucker into his radio. “Our cargo’s comin’ along real good. Do you copy, Fluffy?”

“Ten-Four, Bone Machine,” came a reply over the radio. “Octopus and Yoyo have the rear covered, over!”

A bright light exploded in front of the truck. Instinctively, Bone Machine engaged the brakes. The other trucks stopped behind his. When the light cleared, he heard several loud bang noises. “Yup, they don’t yet trust hover-drives for semis,” he snickered. He opened a compartment beside him, and took out a rifle, that he locked and loaded. He opened the door, and tightly held his gun. A pair of brawny hands grabbed him. He swung the gun, but it was knocked out of him. A loud thud went up as he was slammed on the hood of his truck.

Smashdown looked at the driver. “Your missile run just got cancelled, fool.”

“Back away from him, NOW!” ordered a booming voice. He turned to see an Ai’a’ive man with his red wings spread out and a loaded plasma rifle aimed square at him. “Those missiles will get delivered!” The gun exploded, and he was thrown backwards, when a blast hit it. Sunstorm made her presence known.

“Do you surrender, or are you thirsty for more?” she asked.

Further behind, Infin-8 had his custom-made gun aimed at the third truck driver. And Sparkle focused and launched a magical blast at one of the cab windows. It knocked the driver down. She went in and threw him out.

“Please update status,” came a voice on the radios of all the trucks. “I want a status and 20.”

“We better get these missiles disarmed,” said Smashdown.

White and blue light flashed in the air, and a squad of humanoid robots leapt in from all directions.

“Thank you for securing the area, we shall now take these missiles, they are Glock property,” announced one of them.

The Beatdown Rage looked at them. They vaguely resembled crash-test dummies, and each one had an odd symbol on its chest, what looked like a capital Q, but with four tails, each one diagonal and offset from each other by ninety degrees. “Who are you?” demanded Sunstorm.

“We are the Q-Sqaud, we work for the Golden Glocks, you are ordered to leave, or else you will be obliterated. We are Mechical Men.”

“We will leave man,” said Smashdown. “As soon as we’re done with these cheap tin cans!”

“TERMINATE ALL INTERLOPERS!” ordered one of the Mechanical Men. A fight ensued. Smashdown blocked several punches, and then struck with a roundhouse kick. Sunstorm blasted a couple, but nearly hit the missiles. Infin8 was standing with his back to a truck, and blasting away with his gun. One of them surprised him from behind and tried to hold him in a headlock, but he swung the gun to get it off him. Sparkle flew on top of one of the trucks, and got into a fight with a couple of Mechanical men that attacked from the sides simultaneously. She focused, and shouted “DOUBLE STAR PUNCH,” while punching them with energy laced punches. On the ground, a Mechanical Man looked up at her, and the face around the eyes opened up, revealing a couple of energized prongs where the eyes where, that fired blasts at Sparkle, knocking her down off the truck. She landed on a car and slid off. She slowly recovered. Another robot prepared to blast her with a gun, but Infin8 blasted it first. Smashdown was attacked by a Mechanical Man with a crowbar. He ducked a swing, and grabbed the robot in an airplane hold, and spun him around before throwing him at a couple of others.

“We must retreat,” announced one of them. Most of them teleported out. But a truck started. Only when it moved, did the Rage realize that Mechanical Men were driving it. Sunstorm and Smashdown had to get out of the way, as did Infin8. Infin8 then shot at the tires. The truck turned around, and headed towards them. Sparkle was on her feet and shouted to them.

“RUN!” They ran towards an alley, and the truck turned and jackknifed, and knocked into the other trucks. They kept running. A moment later a huge fireball erupted behind them.

“Shit, all that damage,” said Smashdown.

“Things could have been worse, at least those were normal missiles and not chemical,” reassured Sunstorm.

Loud sirens sounded. “We can’t get back there,” pointed Infin8, “things exploded, it’s on fire.”

“What I wouldn’t do for a pair of wings,” said Smashdown, grimly.

They came to a deserted shopping street, with the few people who were there running away. The sirens grew louder. The group turned onto another street to head towards the wall. They nearly reached it, when a group of hovercycles and cars pulled up. All of them had a logo with a teal ring with a silver four-headed bulldog in it. There were also a few symbols of the Commonwealth of Crooks, that had both a symbol “double C” logo, as well as a more complex one with a gold ring (the group and all its divisions had a ring in their emblems, because of the Circle of Destiny, which was one of the groups that formed up what would later become the Commonwealth), as well as a bright red peacock tail (from the Order of the Crimson Kula), with a multi-colored flower in the middle, with a green CC in front of it, and three platinum arrows pointing down (from a group known as DOWN).

The leader of this particular squad was a woman dressed entirely in leather, almost like a biker, except she wore an officer’s cap instead of a helmet. She had short black hair and had a wide smile. “And where do you think you’re going?” she asked.

“Back home, away from here,” said Smashdown. “Now kindly step aside.

The forces laughed at that. “I am Mad Dog Millie, I don’t let idiots just cross as they please,” she said with a slight British accent. “The Commonwealth has a place for upstarts!” She loaded a rifle. “I believe you call it a morgue!”

Sunstorm focused and flung fusion bolts while the other Ragers fell back. She threw an enormous blast at Mad Dog, but a light blue forcefield flashed and blocked it. More vehicles arrived, along with a group of armed people in assorted teal clothing.

“RETREAT!” shouted Smashdown. Guns and blasts exploded around them. He led them to an open doorway in a building. Above it was a triangle, a circle, and an S, and the words “Sunset North.” They entered the subway station. The vehicle forces were delayed, since there were places they couldn’t go. And best of all, the pursuing forces would be bottlenecked. The group came to a set of automatic gates, that were closed until someone put a ticket in. The four vaulted over them. An alarm sounded, and red lights flashed. “Hurry!”

Infin-8 was bringing up the rear, and he had his gun over his shoulder, firing backwards to slow down the pursuing forces. They passed through some archways, and came to a slanted tube that was painted orange. Inside the tube were two wide passenger conveyors, with a staircase on the side. The group ran down the “down” conveyor. They whizzed by light orange lights as they heard footsteps behind them. The public address system came to life.

“May I have your attention please. There are criminals in North Sunset. All trains are skipping this station. We apologize for any inconvenience, unless you’re one of them, in which case we hope that you drop dead. MAY JACI AND OBO LEAD US TO VICTORY!”

A spherical grenade rolled past then. “HIT THE DECK!” shouted Smashdown. They all dove backwards, and it exploded in front of them, creating a hole in part of the belt. A bell rang and the system stopped, throwing the four of them forward. Sparkle jumped and flew close to the ceiling, flying in a zig-zag manner. Gunfire erupted at her, enabling Infin-8 to turn around and fire a powerful series of blasts at the pursuers, killing a few, and forcing the rest to seek cover. Because of the hole, the group had to jump onto the other conveyor, and then to the staircase, and run down the long way. Smashdown and Sunstorm were running, while Spark and Infin-8 were “flying the tube,” a practice normally frowned upon in the Aga (subway.) But these were not normal times.

After reaching the bottom of the tube, they were in a hallway with orange patterned tiles. This opened into a massive cavern with a large orb on the ceiling. It glowed orange and red, casting a surreal glow on the cavern below. The Rage were on a platform, below that were two more floors, each one having a track on either side. One wall was smooth, the other was natural rock. Sunstorm led the way down an escalator to the upper platform that faced a smooth wall. They ran along the edge towards the tunnel. At one end of the platform, between the tunnels, a crude wooden structure was set up, with a door. That door opened, and several armed guards swarmed out.

“GET DOWN!” shouted Sunstorm. The rest of her group did. “SOLAR BOOM!” She launched a massive fireball that exploded on the structure, engulfing it. Another alarm went off, and fog began filling the cavern. “I’ll turn off the track power,” said Infin-8. Gunfire erupted around them, but the rapidly encroaching fog made it harder, and in such an enclosed environment, where sound was louder, you only wanted to shoot when necessary.

“It’s clear,” came a shout from ahead. “The tracks are dead.” The other three ran to the edge of the platform and jumped off, and followed the tracks out of the hazy station. This route would take them to freedom.

B--

Le Terasa, The Glock Zone, Nu’u Sara

Le Terasa, or The Terraces in English, was a large shopping complex. It was known for its rows of lightbulbs beneath its escalators. It was also split-level. What really stood out, though, is that the floors were color-coded. Rather than being numbered, they were identified with a color that could be seen everywhere on the floor and parts of the walls, as well as the elevator doors. The top two floors were Upper Red and Lower Red. The bottom most floors were Upper Purple and Lower Purple.

All manner of shops and restaurants filled the place. The upper most floor had a thirty-two screen movie theatre, as well as an upscale restaurant that had a higher floor with a round staircase that went out into the atrium as it ascended. The ceiling of the vast interior was made of glass, but it also had hanging crystal chandeliers. The Upper levels that were above the ground all had open balconies with plants and trees on them, and Upper Orange had a set of outdoor stores, with a wooden floor, as well as a boardwalk that went around the building. Administration offices and spare offices were in a tower that extended upward from Le Terasa called “The Pinnacle”, access was through both the Upper Red’s outdoor area, and special “express” elevators from Lower and Upper Green.

It was on Upper Green and Lower Green that one could walk to the streets, and Lower Purple had access to the Le Terasa Aga (subway) and train station. This was also where Club Grotto, one of Nu’u Sara’s top ten night-clubs, was located. Its interior was decorated to look as rocky and cave-like as legally possible, and one end of this club had windows that let one see out onto the Aga tracks. On a regular day, Le Terasa was full.

But now it served a different function. Le Terasa was where the local headquarters of the Ai’a’ivean branch of the Glocks was kept.

In an office in the Pinnacle, a man whose face was covered in scars was sitting on a comfortable chair. A Mechanical Man entered. “Are you here to report about the missiles?”

“They have been destroyed,” reported the robot.

“It’s just like the Mafia queen and her featherduster witch to do this.”

“Negative, a third party became involved, we were forced to destroy the missiles. Force suffered losses.”

“You are robots. You are all replaceable.”

“Affirmative.”

“So, is it Al Harb?”

“Negative.”

“Or perhaps those Republicans?”

“Negative.”

“Then who is it?”

“Affirmative. Now showing hologram of third party.” A compartment opened, and a hologram of the Beatdown Rage was shown.

“Shit, that bitch in the tight suit was the one who came in last night.” He pointed at Firestorm.

“Now leaving to report to Tokyo,” announced the robot. A moment later, it teleported out.

He shuddered. There were new heroes in town. The only major threat was lost in another dimension, or so everyone thought, because of a special weapon used to disrupt a “bridge” they intended to take. That group was the Enega Warriors.

He thought about his superiors. The supreme commander of the Golden Glocks was known as Ravage, and he wore dark armor and a mask, thus his face had never been seen. He was based in Tokyo, Japan, which was now completely under their control. Beneath him, there was the elite female assassin Killing Wind. There was also the Qela-Collective, who supposedly owned the robots, despite not being the ones who made them. The Qela Collective was a group of four female Pavonians (a race resembling a human with the head-feathers and tail-feathers of a peacock) who happened to be sisters, and their brother Themiast, who was also their husband, and supposedly they came from the past. They were just too weird for him, but they were quite effective at serving the Glocks. He himself was known as Fissure (nicknamed from the pattern of his scars.) He pressed a button, and a tone sounded. An Ai’a’ive girl walked in. Her unkempt black hair showed that she was from the Mops, one of the local gangs that was integrated into the Glocks. She only wore a purple and pink sarong, and her wings were orange and slightly tattered. “Lala, get me the leaders of the Loco-Nuts, Mops, and Socializers. We have some planning to do. And get me a nice cold usual.”

“Yes Fissure.” She bowed and exited. Fissure knew that something had to be done, or else there’d be a new Enega Warriors-like group to deal with. His only consolation is that, so far, Ai’a’ivea did not have its equivalent of the Messiah, a maverick who hated criminal and hero alike, and wanted to take the Glocks apart at the core. Things were about to get tense. That’s why he asked for a “cold usual,” which was a mix of three kinds of beer, a little brandy, and gin, with fruit juices and soda water mixed in.

B--

Beatdown Headquarters

“Those missiles ain’t getting’ launched,” said Smashdown.

“But people could have been killed,” said Sunstorm.

“In this game, you have to take those risks.”

“He’s right,” said Infin-8, “If those missiles made it to their destination, then MANY people would have died.”

“I hope we won’t have to stop more missiles,” quipped Sparkle.

“No, we’ll have to deal with other things,” said Smashdown, “I feel it.”

To be continued…

Well, now another story in the RSU starts, during the Decimation. 8-23 is still fresh, the Enega Warriors are missing, and all hell is breaking loose. Nu’u Sara is a new Berlin, but much more volatile. It is here that the Beatdown Rage will have to do battle, and rise from a disorganized group of freedom fighters to a proud group of heroes.