The Big Villains Thread

Games Sentinel Comics RPG
141

Man, that last entry's writing was stilted.  I wonder why...

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Villain of the Day:  March 15 (Backbiter)

On most occasions, the weapon-artifacts of lore are given power because of the actions of their wielder.  Roland's Durandel became a relic not because it was made a relic from the start, but rather because of Roland's storied deeds while wielding it.  The act of actually imbuing an item with arcane power comes with great risks and, in many occasions, results in that item gaining some degree of sentience or personality.  The Staff of Ra and the other relics of the Ennead all impress upon their wielders the personality traits of their original bearers.  The Tome of Elder Magic simply hungers.  The dagger known as Backbiter, however, has much more devious ends.

A wickedly sharp blade of Greek origin, Backbiter holds a lust for bloodshed that is unparalleled amongst known occult weapons.  When drawn, Backbiter subtlely guides that hand of its wielder, turning them into a whirling dervish capable of facing down numerous foes at once, causing bleeding wounds that are notoriously hard to knit and destroying major arteries and nerve centers with little effort.  However, simple violence is not enough to sate the spirit within Backbiter.  Rather, it desires betrayal.

The first known appearance of Backbiter was a notable one:  its first owner was one Publius Servilius Casca Longus, a Roman senator in 44 BCE.  After his flight from Rome, following the rise of Octavian to the seat of Roman power, it is believed that the blade turned on him, as Servilius committed suicide in 42 BCE.  It is believed that the blade then was taken to Roman-occupied Britain, where it lay dormant for years, before arriving in the hands of a Scottish lord in 1040.    That lord, too, met a strange end, beheaded by some of his landed rivals in 1042.  In the late 1600s, the blade returned to Italy in the hands of the notable Lomellini family, and it is believed that Backbiter was used to kill composer Alessandro Stradella.  Most recently, the blade appeared in the private collection of songwriter Elliot Smith, who was stabbed to death by his then-girlfriend Jennifer Chiba in 2003.

Backbiter's gift of combat prowess and lethal skill is a potent one.  The price, though, is always paid in blood.

142

OK, There's no way this is as good as PlatinumWarlock' s but here goes :

Dian Cecht was a member of the sidhe , a powerful sorcerer and magical healer. He helped heal the sidhe warriors in their fight with the formori and was well honoured. However his power was matched by his pride. When his son exceeded his work by discovering how to regrow limbs, Dian tore him apart in a rage. When his daughter developed an potion  that was a panacea, Dian scattered the ingredients around the world and blinded her .For these crimes Dian was exiled to an island off the coast of Ireland and left behind when the sidhe retreated back to the Realm of Discord. A monastery was formed on the island and the monks set in wards that kept Dian trapped.Though the monastery was later abandoned the island was remote and the wards were undisturbed for a thousand years. Recently a movie was filmed on the island and the unknowing crew destroyed the wards. Now Doan Cecht is free and his rage at humanity is great , through their paltry science they seek to match work only he should be capable of. He will destroy medicine and and it's practitioners for their affront

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Villain of the Day:  March 16 (Digger)

Professor Robert Alison never made tenure.

A British-born American expatriate, Alison spent four years at Yale teaching anthropology and mythology courses, focusing primarily on archaeological methodology and fucntional practice.  While the Ivy Leagues were quick to pick up the professor, they quickly found that he was much more interested in furthering his own CV than in teaching courses or promoting university fundraising efforts.

Alison's biggest break came in Belize; within a previously-excavated Mesoamerican tomb complex lay a sub-chamber buried deep beneath the Earth, full of crude mechanical traps and, as Alison swiftly found out, the remains of numerous dead.  However, Alison managed to find something of great worth, which he kept to himself:  one of the obsidian ritual knives used to perform human sacrifices to the various harvest deities.  A proper sacrifice would ensure long life, great prosperity, and a bountiful harvest. 

So, of course, Alison decided to try it out.  His graduate assistant was the first sacrifice.

While the ritual worked, to a degree, Alison swiftly found out that the blood magic which powered the ritual was incomplete.  In order to maintain his arcanely increased vitality, he would have to either find additional sacrifices or, perhaps, find a ritual to append the magics which now infested him.

Taking up the nickname "Digger", Alison now travels the world as a tomb-raider-for-hire, excavating dangerous artifacts for the highest bidder and using his proximity to arcane ritual sites to expand his own occult knowledge.  Long has Alison had his eyes on Atlantis, though recent whispers of other realms like Thule and Lemuria have piqued his curiousity to see what strangeness he might find there.  However, Digger's unsanctioned use of blood magic has also caught the attention of the Court of Blood, who have no intentions on brooking any rival to immortality, much less one that uses their own form of sorcery.

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Villain of the Day:  March 17 (The Naddred)

Many people think they know the story of Saint Patrick.  Some 'enlightened' souls even decry the holiday, noting that it celebrates yet another Christian expulsion of a native religious and cultural population.  The truth, however, is both much more complicated and more terrifying.

Firstly, during his expeditions to Ireland, the man who became Saint Patrick--actually known as Patraig Magonus--was a heretic and apostate from the Catholic church.  Having stolen a series of texts from the vaults in the Bibliotheca Apostolica Vaticana, Patrick was a self-taught sorcerer who elected to use the tools of ancient Atlantis and Thule against those the enemies of his faith, leading to his excommunication by Pope Agatho.  Patrick later translated these spells into Latin into the Book of Armaugh, which served as one part personal spellbook and one part autobiography.

Patraig Magonus' primary foe was a native Celt known as Coroticus, believed by many to be a druid and leader of the native tribesmen.  As with Patraig, the truth is much darker:  Coroticus was actually known as a Gnaddr, an archaic Gaelic title that roughly translates to "serpent priest".  While druidic practitioners of magic certainly existed in modern-day Ireland (who primarily utilized elemental and ley-line magics), Coroticus and his followers were the descendents of the Roman followers of Apep, having fled to Britain following the second destruction of the Library at Alexandria.  

Coroticus and his followers chose Ireland for one main reason:  the creature referred to in folklore as The Naddred.  A massive coiled serpent-creature  that lurked in the lakes near Alt Clut.  Choosing Alt Clut as their new home, Coroticus and his band worked on a lengthy ritual, warping the ley lines through  much of the surrounding area to cause a breach into the the cthonic prison in which The Naddred slumbered.   

The twist in the ley lines drew Patraig's attention, as well as that of several other sorcerers in the abbeys and monestaries of Britain.  Quickly, Patraig commissioned a ship to Ireland, taking with him as many sorcerers, wizards, and warlocks as would ally with him.

The battle of Alt Clut is legendary amongst sorcerers.  Arcane energies flashed across the skies as Coroticus and his followers matched cthonic sorceries against the lost lore of Atlantis, Thule, and Lemuria.  The Naddred stirred and began to rise...until Patraig turned on his comrades.  Calling forth a ritual from am-Dhaegar's ancient Execration Texts--"The Emptying of Vessels"--Patraig tore the arcane potential from his fellow sorcerers and added it to his own, literally burning out all of his allies, blood pouring forth from their eyes and mouths.  In a massive burst of stolen eldritch energy, Patraig smote Coroticus and his forces, cast down The Naddred, and sunk Alt Clut beneath the shoals of what is now the Irish Sea.  And, as the story goes, every snake and serpent in Ireland was slain.

Patraig was the lone survivor and, of course, the only one left to tell the tale.  For his work against the heretic sorceries in Ireland, Patraig was not only brought back into the church, but also canonized.  The church recalled Patraig, utilizing him as an arcane advisor and operative in the Vatican for twenty years, before being assassinated by an Apap cultist in southern France.  Saint Patrick became a legend, while The Naddred resumed its slumber off the Irish coast...waiting for another to complete the ritual that Coroticus once started.

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Maybe if old Patrick had written that story in his confession, I would have finished it. Wouldn't his name have been Patricus Magnus though , Latin was his first language after all

Also If Naddred is supposed to be related to nathair , that word comes from Old English. There's no Irish word for a serpent that predates Christianity because there are no serpents in Ireland

146

Bastardized Latin is pretty prevalent in the Middle Ages... Also, Naddar (and its derivatives) is Welsh, to the best of my actual history researching ability. But who ever let etymology get in the way of a good story?

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Villain of the Day:  March 18 (Kalfu at the Crossroads)

Buried deep within the Realm of Discord, there lies a strange demiplane.  Hovering there in the ether is a crossroads, with paved streets, broken gravel paths, and dirt trails all leading to one central point.   At the center of this crossroads is a signpost, with scrawled signs pointing down each path, constantly shifting and writhing to new locations and distances with each passing blink of the eye.

Forever chained to that signpost, crouches the haggard, filth-encrusted form of Kalfu.  The Voodoun priests knew him as the loa Carrefour, a possessing spirit that delighted in misfortune and destruction for destruction's sake.  A practitioner of such sorcery would allow Kalfu/Carrefour to 'mount' them in times of war or violence, or on occasions when they sought to curse some enemy.  However, when not actively invited into the consciousness of a Voodoun practitioner, Kaifu remains chained to the crossroads, awaiting either some new invitation or a visitor to his strange little demiplane.

The Crossroads itself holds great power; mainly, it provides a bridge from the Realm of Discord to any number of other known realities.  Sorcerers throughout history have recorded encounters at the Crossroads, with many of them warning of interacting with Kalfu, often striking bargains or challenging him to some contest of wits in order to find the correct path out of the Realm of Discord.

Kalfu is a creature of two minds.  While it wants its freedom and the ability to leave, it knows that if it leaves the Crossroads for too long, it will lose its natural attunement to the demiplane and, with it, his ability to discern the true destination of each path.  Each time a visitor arrives, they can be sure that Kalfu has a challenge for them in some manner.  

The true nature of Kalfu is a great mystery that has yet to be solved.  He claims to not be a native of the Realm of Discord, though nor is he a Host spirit or a Void denizen.  The Comte de Saint Germaine conjecured that Kalfu might be a primordial force of reality--the source of all bad luck and curses--while Nightmist theorized that he might actually be an arcane construct, designed solely to operate the Crossroads.  In either case, to any lost within the Realm of Discord, bargaining with Kalfu may be the only way home...

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Villain of the Day:  March 19 (The Man with the Silver Horn)

He plays the saxophone by night, they say.  That's when the people vanish. 

Christina Evans came to the Argent Adept when her husband, James, went missing.  A noted concert percussionist, James never came home following a symphony performance at Megalopolis's Wagner Concert Hall.  For days beforehand, James seemed distant and distracted, unable to focus.  While going about his daily routine, he seemed confused and would often hum a strange, syncopated jazz melody that Christina did not recognize.

The night before he vanished, she heard the music herself:  a soft alto saxophone coming from the fire escape below their apartment.  For just a moment, she caught a glimpse of him:  a strange pale man in a dark suit, playing a silver horn.  

The next day, James was gone.  That very evening, Christina called the police.  The next morning, a set of timpani mallets lay crossed over the welcome mat in front of her apartment.  In a panic, Christina frantically climbed the Akash-Flora tree, screaming for the Argent Adept to save her.  Another two days, and she was gone too.

Over the past four months, no less than sixteen noted musicians and music-affiliated individuals have gone missing: the lead guitarist from a noted punk rock group, a trumpet player from a swing revival band, a piano professor from Megalopolis State...all gone.  Not one has resurfaced, though neighbors and nearby individuals claim to recall nothing, save a strange melody that they can't seem to shake, but nor can they fully remember.

Anthony Drake, alarmed by this strangeness, immediately moved to look into the disappearances.  To date, he has yet to find any evidence beyond Christina's initial testimony as to the strange individual.  Drake has contemplated the idea that there may be another Virtuoso of the Void out there, though there seems to be little evidence of Void sorcery present; rather there seems to be traces of something older, antediluvian, and hungry.  The song itself wants to be played, he fears, and the man with the silver horn may simply be conducting something far more dangerous than himself.

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Villain of the Day:  March 20 (Audacity)

Nicole Beltran has never known fear.  

As a child in Rook City, she was hospitalized a number of times, having walked into traffic, leapt out of high trees, and taken risks that any other child would have balked at.  None really know exactly what spawned this strangeness in her psyche--numerous psychologists and neurologists have studied her brain--but Nicole seems to be totally without any ability to feel the emotion of fear.

However, a chance encounter with Hermetic changed something in her.  While in Rook City, Nicole wandered down the wrong dark alley, only to stumble upon a confrontation between Hermetic and the team known as Dark Watch.  Fascinated rather than frightened, she watched the battle unfold:  Hermetic's blood conjurations lashed out against Nightmist's sorcery, summoned minions squared off against Fixer and Setback, and a conjured, bat-winged horror chased down Expatriette from her vantage point atop a fire escape.  Walking closer to get a better view of the action, a strand of arcane energy slammed into Nicole's forehead....and she found herself forever changed.

Pulling upon some degree of ambient blood magic, Nicole began to siphon the fear energy from all those around her, emboldening them and pushing them towards riskier and more dangerous actions.  While this had little effect on the already-in-combat Dark Watch, her newfound power did affect a nearby homeless man, who charged into the combat in a berserk rage, swinging a  broomstick at any within reach.  Meanwhile, Nicole found herself pulsing with the energy she devoured, pouring from her very being in a sickly blue-green light.  With later practice, Nicole found that she could utterly remove any sense of fear, trepidation, inhibition, or self-preservation from a being, transforming those emotions into pure arcane energy, which she could then project as powerful blasts.

Since that day, Nicole has embraced her strange calling.  Calling herself Audacity, Nicole has left her normal life behind, embracing the role of villain entirely.  She has contacts throughout the underworld, often serving as arcane backup to any villain that might have a grudge against some would-be hero.  While not necessarily a force to be reckoned with, Audacity's ability to manipulate minds and remove inhibitions make her a most dangerous foe...

150

That's an interesting power I don't think I've seen before.

Also, I was going to make a joke about audiobooks and then realized I was confusing Audacity and Audible.

151

Audacity is for audio recording!

152

I've been without a computer for a couple weeks, but one upside is that it gave me plenty of time to come up with a thematically appropriate villain for this month.

The Moving Shadows:

A factory worker in Maine, Harvey Burningham was a normally chipper fellow, he was a down-to-earth family man at home in suburbia and a social butterfly at the factory during breaks. One day as work ended, Harvey was in the parking lot on his way to his car when he suddenly stopped and turned to the side, before casually resuming his walk. Noticing his odd behavior, one of his coworkers called out to him, "You alright there?" "I'm fine," Harvey replied, "I thought I saw something, but there's nothing there. That's all."

A few months later, Harvey Burningham was found dead in a 3-star motel one city over from where he used to live.

The change was gradual, but fast. It started with nothing more than the occational strange occurance that only he noticed; a distant voice whose words he couldn't quite make out, or a sudden chill in the room, or most commonly, shadows that seemed to move on their own. As time passed he grew increasingly uneasy and those around him took notice. The once chipper and friendly man was now sullen and withdrawn, suddenly turning down invitations to barbeques and eating lunch in a corner by himself. Meanwhile, the things he saw only got worse; distant voices became close whispers, cold chills became hot breath on the back of his neck, there were times when an aquaintence's face would seem to shift and distort before his very eyes before he blinked and they returned to normal, and those shadows crept ever closer. He became distrustful of not only his surroundings, but of his once friends as well, confiding only with his closest loved ones about how he felt, but as they tried to reassure him and calm him down, he concluded that they could not be trusted as well. By the time of his death, Harvey was consumed by paranoia. He quit his job, left his wife and kids, and lived a life of complete isolation.

When his body was discovered, several things were noted about the place he was in: The windows were boarded up, several electronics were unplugged, and easily dozens of notes were taped all over the place, the writing only looking like incoherent ramblings. The cause of death was ruled as a heart attack, though anyone with an attunement to other realms would have immediately sensed something much more sinister at play.

Nobody knows what the shadows really are, but Harvey Burningham was not their first victim, and he certainly won't be their last.

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Villain of the Day:  March 21 (The Fractal Man)

Wayne Norman put his trust in science.  Logical, understandable, re-creatable, and unfeeling.  Wayne Norman's trust was unfounded.

An engineer at a Nautilus Industries, Wayne was one of the individuals working directly in Eliot Marklund's notorious Design Bay L.  Norman's point of focus?  Attempting to perfect dimensional folding technology, based upon the quark-drive translocator technology left behind in the wake of the Voss invasion, Norman's division within Design Bay L culminated in the "Marklund Gate"--a massive two story portal designed to fold dimensional space, opening upon another identical facility located off the New Zealand coast.  

Wayne was never meant to be a test subject for the Marklund Gate; that honor was going to go to a canary named Tweeters.  However, after months of hands-on work with the the Marklund Gate, Wayne began to come apart at the seams.  Workers within Design Bay L are typically mandated to maintain a 6-week-on, 3-week-off work rotation, but with a breakthrough so close, Nautilus' supervisors authorized additional work.  That was when the gate started whispering to Wayne.

At 3am, coming down off of a coffee-fueled math session, Wayne decided to take a look through the gate on his own.  That day, he ceased being Wayne Norman.  That day, he became The Fractal Man.

As he passed through the Marklund Gate's aperture, Wayne's body was thrown across countless timelines, slung through infinite ur-space, and trapped within antidiluvian prisons within realms explored by none save the most intrepid and foolish necronauts.  When he finally emerged in Nautilus New Zealand's Design Bay L, both his body and mind were left in shambles.

The Fractal Man can physically shift his body in and out of various adjacent dimensions, which manifests both as a form of teleportation and as a near two-dimensional appearance.  While in a two-dimensional form, he can slide out of bonds, move across surfaces as a static image, or become impervious to harm; while in a 5th dimensional form, he becomes incomprehensible to the human psyche, inducing headaches and nausea.  Despite his power, The Fractal Man cannot truly open portals to other dimensions--a skill gap that he rues greatly, and actively pursues as an enhancement to his powers--though he can call upon lashes of damaging energy from various dimensions throughout the multiverse. 

More than anything else, though, The Fractal Man has served as a harbinger.  While understanding his deluded rants has been difficult for even the most schooled of arcanists and dimensional travelers, The Fractal Man has had one continual message:  beware the that which lurks behind the mirrors and waits beyond the walls.

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Villain of the Day: March 22. (Never)

Jessica Cristof learned the power of ‘no’ very early.

A spoiled child, Jessica grew up in the lap of luxury in Megalopolis’ Cobalt Heights district. Her mother, a corporate attorney and her father, an orthopedic surgeon, gave her everything she ever wanted. But, for Jessica? That was never enough. If even a subtle thing were out of place or not to her specifications, she devolved into outright tantrums. However, as she grew, she found that simple yelling rarely did the trick any longer. In order to get her way, she would have to be more canny.

The old woman never said what the book did, but Jessica didn’t care. Shrew got what she wanted – the ability to say no to anyone. In actuality, the tome which she purchased was one that linked her consciousness to a Host spirit of denial. By simply speaking aloud, Jessica could deny anyone anything, taking whatever she wanted in the meanwhile.

Jessica’s parents were her first victims. When she deigned to ask for an exorbitant sports car, they declined… after which she forbade them from eating. The pair starved to death over weeks, pleading with Jessica to let them live. A paparazzi photographer stood for 8 days outside of Jessica’s house after she told him, “don’t move.” When police finally dragged him from the spot, the man had to be institutionalized, still obsessing over the commands of Never.

Soon, Jessica will have everything she ever wanted. She’ll never have to call upon Never again.

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Villain of the Day: March 23 (The Thulian Elder Mind)

The most powerful, most notable mages of long-forgotten Thule viewed it as their highest aspiration. The ancient Atlanteans sought its destruction over all others. The warcasters of Lemuria desired their assimilation and servitude. And none other than mighty Gloomweaver sought to devour it, adding their occult strength to his own.

The Elder Mind of Thule was a great stasis chamber, maintained by only those whom the Thulian elite could implicitly trust. Before a Thulian magister died, they were taken to a chamber deep within the floating islands. There, their brain was removed and placed in an arcane receptacle suitable to keep the still living brain alive. Then, using a blend of Cthonic magicks and discordian sorcery, that mind was linked to all of its forebears, creating a legion consciousness, simultaneously able to hold independent thought, yet act as one unit.

Warcaster Xemox had long thought the Thulian Elder Mind destroyed. The great frescoes of Atlantis show the elders of Thule being thrown down. However, cult leaders have begun to disappear the world over, and somge have begun to wonder whether the Thulian Elder Mind has survived the shattering of timelines, adding new voices to their throng. If so, the greatest collective of arcanists ever known will undoubtedly shake the world with their power…

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Villain of the Day: March 24 (The Thing Under Roosevelt Bridge)

People in Rook City disappear all the time. Kidnappers, mob assassinations, strange experiments, and more make living alone in Rook City a desperate proposition at best. Marky Delfino knows that well. As a cleaner for the Organization, he ensures that the aftermath of The Organization's work goes undetected. Disposing of bodies in the river or the bay was easy, until they started dredging the river. He needed somewhere better to dispose of the unwanted.

That place came under the Roosevelt Bridge.

In a part of Rook City that few ever go, Marky dropped the body of a deadbeat drug dealer from the bridge... and them heard the chewing. The sound of teeth through bone and sinew. The sound of feasting.

Marky ran. But that hasn't stopped him from coming back. He's become the Chairman's best cleaner. The bodies never seem to turn up. He just never looks under the bridge.

157

I don't know what went wrong here, only that something did and it makes this whole thing even creepier.

You're doing a great job of filling the world with evils other than just costumed supervillains. :smiley:

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For my first post for the RPG, figured I’d add one villain to Supernatural Month.

Years before Oblivæon, a series of vicious muggings and robberies plagued Rook City. At first, they were attributed to the urban legend of the Plague Rat, but Nightmist was not convinced. Putting her skills as a private investigator to the case, she discovered important clues. The perpetrator seemed to appear and disappear without warning, and more importantly, was very large, hairy, decidedly lupine in appearance, and only struck for a few days a month, during the full moon.

Nightmist soon tracked down a low-level thug named Jake Donner, a young man who seemed to be cursed by a strange form of lycanthropy. His curse was not transferred by his bites or claws, and he was in full control when he shifted. But most unnerving was the fact he could teleport at will, making him impossible to trap. He was using his monthly transformations to fund his lifestyle, stealing from locked vaults, mug those who slighted him, and just generally be a selfish punk.

After being found and arrested by Nightmist, Jake simply waited for the next full moon, and teleported out of the cell that was supposed to dampen his powers. Now seeking Nightmist for revenge, he foolishly allowed himself to gloat over her after catching her off guard.

Nightmist flung him from reality.

Trapped for “years” outside space and time, unable to come home, Jake went insane with boredom and thoughts of vengeance. And then Nightmist opened the gate for aid against Oblivæon. And then Nightmist ceased to be. 

And now can anyone stop The Wherewolf?

(And yes, he’s a teleporting werewolf with a silly gimmick name, but dammit, it’s just such a great name.)

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Villain of the Day: March 25 (Mortalis)

All things die.  As one of the extant fprces of the universe, Mortalis appears in that dread moment of the final ragged breath, the frantic reach for the hand of a family member, or the flutter of eyelids as a warrior expires.  

During the OblivAeon crisis, Mortalis was, for lack of a better word, quite busy.  Streaking across the multiverse, ferrying souls to their final resting place--some in the hands of creatures like Ammit or Gloomweaver, some to their just reward, others to the end of all things.  Death is the reason Mortalis exists, and the more creatures that die within an area, the more likely that Mortalis himself will oversee their passing.  In other cases, he dispatches the riders:  creatures of mist and shadow hiding at the corners of vision, ferrying the souls of the dead to their great beyond.

Few humans have ever seen them.  Occasionally, those who have been rescucitated claim to have seen them as angels, others as demonic creatures lurking at the periphery of vision.  One hero knows of them:  Harry Robert Walker, the man who came back.

Mister Fixer claims that, during his long stint trapped as a living dead man, he could watch the servitors of Mortalis work, skull-faced creatures flashing past in all manner of vehicles:  ancient chariots, suped-up sports cars, spike-treaded tanks, and more.  In all cases, the souls of the recent dead sit frozen, gripping the panels of the passenger compartment with fear.  Walker can attest to the fear of death; he lived it for years.  While he never saw Mortalis itself, the whispers of the dead spoke its name with dread...that of the great reaper, removing creatures from that burdensome toil of sentient thought.

To this day, Mortalis has been a neutral party in mankind's great dance.  One can only wonder what might happen should Mortalis turn its gaze to more malevolent ends...

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Villain of the Day:  March 26 (The Undying Horde of Nightmist)

Dimensions away, the heroes of the world had fallen into despair.  After centuries of planning, the entity known as Gloomweaver had finally triumphed, bursting into the material world with a horde of zombie minions at his beck and call.  His cultists were permitted to retain their cunning and intellect, even as their flesh was devoured under a tide of devouring teeth and snapping bone.  The interplanar invasion spread quickly from Rook City, covering most of the eastern United States within weeks.  Megalopolis was one of the few bastions of humanity remaining, as the Freedom Five opened their tower to the living, defending them to the last.

It was not enough.

Absolute Zero fell first, the hordes tearing off his suit and rending him asunder even as their nails froze and chipped away.  Wraith followed, attempting to swing away from a swarm of corpses, only for the crumbling brick to give way beneath her grappling hook.  Bunker rushed to save her, but his suit was soon covered with corpses, whose unnatural strength began to peel away the layers of armor on his suit, leaving him a sitting duck.  Legacy, unsurprisingly, lasted the longest, though even America's Finest gave his life, evacuating the last few civilians from Freedom Tower when the fortress was finally overrun.

Within 18 months, the marching graveyard had spread worldwide, with only pockets of humanity alive, often guarded by the world's superhumans.  The Prime Wardens, minus Haka and Captain Cosmic who both fell beneath the zombie horde, returned to their base in fallen Atlantis.  Expatriette and Setback were said to have built a self-sustaining bunker somewhere in the midwest, capable of fending off the hordes indefinitely.

Nightmist, though, proved to be the world's undoing.  With the help of The Harpy, she attempted to open a dimensional gate, through which she hoped to lead the rest of humanity....that was when the hordes burst into her sanctum.  

While the Harpy became naught so much as a meal for the encroaching corpses, the zombie bites in Nightmist's ethereal form resulted in something quite strange.  The arcane curse which provided her mist form allowed her to remain alive, though the zombie infection carried by the undead infected her mind, corrupting and perverting it. 

Still bearing the bite wounds eternally bleeding from her ethereal form, Nightmist completed her ritual, opening a portal to our reality.  However, she now knew her true purpose...to lead mighty Gloomweaver in the conquest of all realities.  With a horde of zombified heroes at her beck and call, she may have just gifted the Cult of Gloom a new reality over which to claim dominion.