Yhatrares crumbled into ruin as the beam radiating with pure energy power razed all in its path, reducing entire lives, stories and cultural landmarks to the universal simpleness of ash. Fire rippled and roared as it began to consume all not already demolished by the destructive weapon that threatened to nail the coffin of the last bastion of equality among the humans of the world. From the all-seeing eyes of Galexa it was chaos; the death was immeasurable and senseless. Her chest beat with adrenaline and blood swelled in her ears, pounding, blocking out the screams and fire. All she could smell was burning flesh, smoke stinging her eyes. Sparks raising from the streets below burnt her and seared her tight-fitting spandex costume, looking like a nebula crossed with streaks of neon which glowed iridescently among the fire. Without fully understanding her action she was propelled into the air, jetted away by swirling voids that grew in her hands as she flew higher up to fully see the origin of the chaos. The beam was projected from a huge building that stood as a cornerstone of the city, a company that had grown to power all of Yhatrares, the central building of the HCore, a series of solar powered towers that were built along the mainside of Nahl around seventy years ago. They were efficient and well-seasoned as a company, and their growth allowed great support of the Powered community. Not only was it ironic that such a weapon of mass terror was fueled by what was known formerly for saving the world, but that something that helped found the megapolis that went up in flame would destroy it. With great haste Galexa shredded through the air like a plane and crashed into a solar panel on the side of the building. The HCore Foundation weren’t just revered as among the world’s top scientists but also were culturally savvy, making beautiful building designs such as HCore Tower with its stark and slender panelling doubling as reflective glass panes, sparking a growth of contemporary architecture. The ground was glossy and beautiful as always despite blood running along as the bodies of dead goons were spread across the complex main room, many high-caliber bullets riddling their bodies. Shit, Galexa thought to herself. Someone had already breached the building. Her frantic nature only grew at this, but not enough to still enjoy the awesome amenities the HCore Tower held; in the later years of the company before closing in 2245, the Tower was converted into a historical museum which outlined the past of the corporation and superpowered history as a whole. For whatever reason the tour systems were still running though someone had already routed the energy of the building to the huge laser mounted to its side, with informatory interactive text running along the walls and a narrator speaking above. The artificial intelligence was posh British, speaking with a slow, robotic drawl. [i] “The HCore company was founded by H. Drake Gareth II, viscount of the Gareth family name, known as entrepreneurs of the trade of eco-conservative energy and a founding pillar of Yhatrares…”[/i] One goon shutters back to life, the bullet lodged in his chest making blood pour from his abdomen steadily, choking on gore that came back through his mouth and coating his teeth. “Devil,” he rasped and pointed to the next room, before he collapsed and his eyes lulled. The door in front was drenched in slow-moving, fresh sanguine that dripped sluggishly, gunfire making holes in its wooden frame. Galexa opened the door slowly as to see her surroundings; what she found was a massacre. Blood was in every crevice of the room and reached to the ceiling, bodies piled like hay everywhere, all killed in a grotesque manner. Galexa immediately convulsed with sickness at the sight and slowly began to wade through the scene of the purge, slowly making her way to the stairs below the chandelier draped with a long intestine. The room was a decorative memorial of the New Parliament and the achievements of H. Drake Gareth, though the carnage that was wreaked within was not the original intention of the designers. [i]“The Crisis of 2234 was undoubtedly one of the most potentially catastrophic events in recent history, when the earth ran dry with fossil fuels and the environment had become extremely polluted. Drake was one of the last to still see a glimmer of hope among the smog that blocked out the sun, and took action by erecting HCore Tower within Yhatrares and expanding HCore massively. Soon most everything became solar-powered and the smog was cleared over time as a life’s work,” the guide continued from above.[/i] Galexa powered on through the sleek and sharply defined complex of the Tower. More bodies lied in her wake, still riddled with bullets like the last; Galexa activated her given abilities and watched as a vigilante powered through the halls and wiped out all in his path with precision and two handguns clutched within leather gloves. As the bullets impacted in the chests of the hired protection it exploded into shrapnel and ripped through the body, having internal anatomy fly outwards through huge gaping holes within the body; it took under ten seconds for the man to clear the room that contained too much firepower for one. He proceeded to nonchalantly walk out as the bodies crumpled to the ground, into an elevator which rocketed upwards. Galexa’s eyes lost their glimmer as she stopped the replay of previous events, though watching it gave her a severe headache and a nosebleed; her powers contained great cosmic force drawn from the void of space at the cost of a diminishing will to live. A fair trade for omnipotence, the ability to scry through time, see through any man and harness dark energy that brimmed with malevolent power. She progressed through narrow corridors and to an elevator that looked like more of a space pod if anything; the inside was crisp, white and simple. A panel next to the glass doors stretched long and was embossed with ivory, laying out every floor of the complex from a generator room seething with heat located in a subterranean compartment to the highest floor of penthouse owned by H. Drake himself, the button of which being smeared with blood. She pressed it gingerly and the shaft rumbled as Galexa and the elevator shot up and knocked her against the back wall. The transparent walls of the elevator allowed her to see to the outside of HCore Tower; and despite her best hopes the world did not change in the time she was scaling the building, only worsened. The earth began to split, the beam still flaring with unfiltered energy and desecrating everything in its path and everything beyond Yhatrares had also began to burn. This attack wasn’t common domestic terrorism, but coordinated chaos that spanned a worldwide scale. When the elevator lurched to a stop and translucent doors dinged open, Galexa turned from looking out over the maelstrom of anarchy to a room of mobsters with automatic rifles pointed at her. As a volley of messy and uncoordinated gunfire erupted Galexa quickly dived to the side of the elevator and waited for the rattling of gunbarrels like a pellet in shaking tin to halt. It did, but not before a lucky bullet wedged itself under the elevator paneling. The conveyor at its top shuttered as strings broke and plummeted down, Galexa diving out just seconds before it could have been too late.