Figuratively rolling up his sleeves to deal with this bizarre misuse of the arcane, Seth was surprised to find himself suddenly surrounded by a colorful group of men and women. The Twilight Angel had filled him with knowledge of these "superheroes," but it was still strange to see them in action! As he understood it, they were like an auxiliary town watch (or police department, in modern terminology), but with incredible powers of diverse origin and effect. It was good to see them respond so swiftly to this sudden crisis!
The Russian in the thick blue coat, first on the scene, put the young mage ill at ease. He did not merely feel the cold on him, he saw itinhim, a dead, roiling winter that clashed with the autumn of his own power. Could this man really be a hero with power such as this? "Thank you,"he cautiously replied to the man's words of welcome. The winter mage was polite, and seemed to be on the side of right, but the opposed natures of their energies made him feel queasy if he looked too long. Fortunately, the arrival of two more heroes tore his mind from the matter.
The rather young woman in purple and white seemed earnest enough, though she was younger even than he, and he could not help but notice that she was rather pretty. The other youth, of his own age if he did not miss his guess, wore the flowing cloak and dark, mysterious clothes of a mage, but Seth could see no magic on him. He made some confusing comment about a dance that the dusk mage pretended to understand, nodding his head."I am called Gloaming," he said with a formal half-bow,"and I would welcome your aid."
He wondered what on Earth these modern people must think of the youth with seventeenth century clothes, an eyepatch, and a glowing gaze, but concluded that their own costumes were bizarre enough that they had little room to judge.
Their entrance into the mad scene within the bank momentarily forestalled conversation. Devices whose names Seth only vaguely knew, and which he had never seen before, ripped themselves from walls and ceilings to lurch at them, a deadly tide of metal and plastic! As Amelyth and the cloaked youth laid into the twining carpets, Seth cast around for the most immediate threat. His eyes settled on the heavy filing cabinet bearing down on Comrade Frost. Reaching out, he twisted his hands through an arcane pattern, brow furrowed in concentration.
The cabinet, scooting and rolling across the floor with bone-crushing momentum, was borne into the air mid-spin, seized by invisible hands. Seth, struggling to hold the object as it rippled and writhed in his ethereal grip, cast his gaze over to the bags and ATMs. In his day paper money was a newfangled thing used only in the Massachusetts Bay colony and a few places on the Continent, but he knew that it was now both widespread and valuable. Whoever the perpetrator of this mystic affront was, it was clear what they were after.
"I was under the impression that guilds ceased to exist quite some time ago,"the confused mage replied, entirely missing the point of Foreshadow's banter. Worried that he was already showing himself to be hopelessly ignorant, he did not ask what "speed dial" was.
With a flick of his wrist, Seth sent the filing cabinet flying at the bag closest to the entrance of the bank, tipping it and spilling the notes inside. More cash cascaded from the ATM, striking the side of the cabinet and scattering over the floor as the animated metal struggled to right itself. But the dent he'd put in the object, and the scattering of the paper files within, made him rethink his triumphant smile."If at all possible,"he said with a guilty grimace,"we should try to avoid undue damage to these objects. They are someone's livelihood."
He caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye: another superhero had arrived outside, but was being menace by yet more animated objects, one of them large enough to squash her flat! Thinking quickly, Seth opened one of his deep orange portals, bending space and time between where the young woman in the web-like costume stood and the spot where Amelyth had just shredded one of the rugs so thoroughly it could not rise again."Milady, beware!"He couldn't be sure his shout would reach her through the thick glass doors.
Then again, she'd probably been doing this a lot longer than he had. Whether or not she trusted the offer of his portal, he was certain she was competent enough to survive this. Whether or nothewould prove to be was another matter entirely, he reflected, as the standing lamp bore down on him with a vicious swing of its lightbulb...
