Chapter 29: Beasts in the Blizzard.

For a moment the Canadian wilds shook-- they raged and quaked under a violent and intense veil of white that spread across the sky like a bomb above the clouds. It came so fast the average man would've missed the chaos and simply been plunged into what remained. Rubble. Snows left melted from the blast of scorching hot lightning. Massive evergreens split in half, wooden cores glimmering as red smoking embers.

Department H was only barely left standing due to it's state of the art defenses and reinforced metal framings. Even those didn't stand much of a chance though.

Especially at the blast site. The weapons lot Daken and Bronte had raided was left in exploded and overcooked bits of dripping melted metal, unknown chemicals, artillery pieces and things better left undescribed. Beings.... better left undescribed.

Amidst the rubble, a single arm rose. No flesh, little pieces of muscle. Nothing more than bone really.... bone sheathed in a metallic silver substance. As it reached for the night sky, cords of muscle bubbled and stretched along the surface like snakes scaling a tree. In their wake, the many layers of flesh followed until the arm was completely reformed.

The hand that once reached for the sky shut into a fist and three metal claws ripped free of the skin. Fissures of lightning danced along the natural weapons along with forceful winds. A focused tornado of sorts that began sweeping away the metal covering the body below.

After a few seconds, Bronte ripped his way out from beneath the rubble. His body a rough amalgamation of gaping wounds, protruding bone and blood slowly being burned from his skin. His hair stood like a blue-white flame in the madness.

His pure white eyes scanned the wreckage. Nothing. His nostrils flared with each focused sniff. Smoke.... fire..... blood .... fear ..... kevlar.... sweat. Cheap cologne used in excess.

Daken.

Bronte tracked the scent. As he took a step in the general direction, his body burst into hyperspeed, leaving him as nothing more than a blurring spark. And then he was suddenly a hundred feet away, lifting a steaming hot metal wall off the ground to find Daken beneath just now waking.

"...Now that, is what I mean when I say bring the god damn storm, ragdoll." His face still hadn't fully healed so it looked as if Bronte was being praised by the Ghost Rider minus the never-ending flames.

Bronte didn't reply. He felt odd....

The sounds of gunshots in the distance grabbed his attention as he helped Daken to his feet. Tried to help was a better way to describe Daken smacking away his hand.

Department H was officially on high alert, describing it all as an unidentified super powered assault. They requested all units with a heavy emphasis on the defensive force, Alpha Flight. This was as far as the message went though, nothing beyond Mutant earshot. Laura and the rest of team Stealth had already infiltrated their building. If things went according to the plan, their communications and network connections were compromised a dozen times over..... and they wouldn't know until limbs started flying from the inside.

During that time, Bronte and Daken needed to continue causing chaos from the outside. Simple.

"Remember the objective. Turn this place to rubble, loosen Romulus' grip. Once that's done, circle back here for the information your lady friend may have left us. And if one of them gets in your way, rip them to shreds." Daken told Bronte.

Not a good idea to enter any possible super-secret underground facilities when reinforcements could be coming from above. Not when they knew so little. Even Mutants should avoid entering less than ideal situations.

"Heard you." Bronte replied before they both took off.

That was the plan at least.

It felt as if the second they moved to run, they were drawn to them.

Reinforcements. Reinforcement, actually. One man. A skintight blue and white suit hugged his slim yet muscled frame. Spiked elven ears stuck out from his black hair as he watched them... confusion written all over his handsome face and darkening his blue eyes.

"Last time I fought a lowly Mutant with claws.... there was only one. And he was a lot less handsome." His eyes were drawn to Daken like magnets.

Daken tightened the grip on his sword, "Stay out of the way Northstar, this isn't your fight."

Northstar smiled arrogantly, "You're right. It's not my fight..... it's ours."

The constant shake of the floor steadily grew into massive quaking footfalls. As if a train had grown legs and began sprinting at blinding speeds.

Bronte spun around to block Daken's backside and popped his claws as the massive fur covered titan burst from the forest with a single bound and landed in front of him. The beast stood at over ten feet. No trace of fat. Just muscle, bone, fur and fang.

The creature crossed its arms over its chest as it looked down at Bronte. The wild underbite of its jaws gave it an ogrish look, but the eyes held intelligence.

Bronte looked up at the giant unflinchingly. He'd seen worse in his three years. He wasn't about to let an urban legend make him fold. He copied the beast and sniffed at it before speaking.

"What's good?"

"You smell familiar.... afraid. Surrender and we won't use force." Sasquatch's voice sounded like timberlands over gravel.

Bronte sighed, "Ok."

He let his claws seep back into his skin and raised his arms. Northstar and his monstrous teammate said something else, but he couldn't hear. He was focusing on the music playing from his earbuds still hidden in the rubble. The heavy riffs of the electric guitar had a visceral feel that permeated beyond just himself. It reached the sky.

Daken's relaxing pheromones picked up in intensity as storm clouds gathered. He didn't drop his sword.

"Tell me Northstar, can you outrun a storm?"

And then, Bronte did what he knew best.

He went for the head...