Triumph - The Protectors of Central Illinois University, the city of Stevenson, and beyond! Or so it was. Join us now, as we peek into the altered lives of the heroes of Triumph, and witness the spark of a new era!
Chicago night, early November…
Dragonfly, Damsel, Magma, Transcender, Dreamweaver, and Ace stood on the rooftop of an abandoned building in the cool November breeze. Actually, calling the building abandoned would be inaccurate. The group faced off against at least a dozen gray robed members of the cult known as the Graystars, a mysterious group of martial artists purportedly staving off the end of the world.
“I’m Aaron, known as Dragonfly. These are my friends. I’m known to your Khenpo. I come in peace...despite appearances,” he said, noticing Damsel’s drawn weapon. He unslung his own blade, still sheathed, and set it on the ground in a gesture of peace.
“Yes, Aaron known as Dragonfly, we are familiar with you,” a young woman, apparently the leader, said, approaching. “And with your protege,” she said, nodding to Damsel. “These others are unknown to me. Is this the new hero team known as Triumph?”
Aaron nodded. “Yes, this is the new Triumph team from Los Angeles, Magma, Transcender, Dreamweaver, and Ace.”
The light of recognition popped into the woman’s eyes. “Ah, now I understand. These are the mysterious assailants who attacked my brothers in California. I hope you’ve not brought them here for a similar reason, or you will find us less welcoming…”
As the lead monk said that, Aaron could almost feel the muscles of the other Graystars tightening in preparation for battle. While he had no doubt that the six heroes were more than a match for twelve Graystars, he knew there were more in the building below. And even at only 12, the battle would be far more difficult than his friends anticipated.
“Nothing of the kind, honored one,” Aaron said, bowing slightly. “We’re here to determine the reality of the situation involving a young woman named Stephanie Williams. It appears she is with your group, and my friends from Los Angeles would like a better understanding of the situation.”
The young woman relaxed, noticeably relieved. She clearly had no desire to fight Dragonfly. “All is well, then. Seeking knowledge is a respectable vocation. If your young friend will sheath her blade, you can follow me to Khenpo Timmy.”
The group followed the young woman toward the stairs. As Ace passed Dragonfly, she sub-vocalized “Khenpo TIMMY?” Aaron shrugged.
Inside, the group of heroes was led into a sparsely appointed but clean room with its windows intact. By a desk sat a short, slightly portly man, the beginnings of brown hair sprouting equally on top of head and beard. He looked up and smiled as the young woman lead the brightly dressed brigade into the room.
“Hey, you must be Dragonfly! Hear a lot about you!” Aaron was surprised at how animated the man was. He was obviously in his early middle-age, but there was a youth in his eyes he saw in very few, let alone in the eyes of a Khenpo of the Graystar cult.
“Khenpo,” he said, kneeling briefly. “I don’t believe we’ve met. What happened to Khenpo Fice?”
Aaron had met Fice when he had worked with the Graystars previously, and he hadn’t been told about Fice’s departure. He made a note to himself to have Damsel help him revamp his intel system.
“Tibet. He had some urgent business with a Lama. I hear you’ve been?”
Aaron nodded. “I was, years ago.”
Timmy stood. “Hope I get a chance to go someday. How can I help Team Triumph, Dragonfly?”
“There’s a girl I believe you have in custody named Stephanie Williams. My former teammates thought you’d kidnapped her, I told them you’d be able to explain the situation.”
Timmy nodded to himself, then looked Aaron and the others in the eyes. “Indeed I can. Stephanie was being hunted by...a force that normal means cannot protect her from. Our meditative experts here in Chicago take turns creating the sacred pyramid and chanting the ancient chants in her room.”
“Sacred chants? A mara?” Aaron asked, a chill running up his spine. The mara were ancient demonic forces, often held at bay by the diligent work trained monks. Before his work with Triumph, he wouldn’t have believe in them, but he’d witnessed things like these and stranger a dozen times in the last four years.
Timmy nodded, “Mmmhm. Big one. Bringer of Madness.”
Aaron shuddered. He’d heard of this creature, or force, really.
“What’s Williams got to do with it?” Transcender asked, stepping forward. Timmy looked startled suddenly.
“She’s the catalyst. The niece of an evil man killed in the name of justice. A man known as Sampson.”
Aaron’s mind flashed back to a time when he and The Gray Robe stood in battle with Sampson in front of a lake. Sampson had injured several of their teammates, and had half-flooded Stevenson using the powers his Nightmare Engine possessed. In the end, The Robe had killed Sampson. She’d said she had no choice, but he knew better. He knew then that it would come to no good. And now here it was. Something evil from an evil deed done with good intentions.
Jan and Martin’s eyes both went wide at the mention of Sampson. They’d been part of that last battle, and it had very nearly been the end of them. Sampson was, arguably, the most dangerous foe the team had ever faced. And now he threatened them even in death.
A sudden scream from the hallway of the old building drew everyone’s attention. Timmy nodded, and the young woman led a team of Graystars toward the door, but Dragonfly was ahead of them. Zipping through the door, his blade drawn, he flew past several startled Graystar initiates before finding the source of the screaming.
There, in a closed off room, was Stephanie Williams, being restrained by two Graystars who, despite their training, were barely able to hold this small woman back. Her eyes ran with blood, and on the floor, one of her meditating guardians lay dead. As Khenpo Timmy, Damsel, Magma and the other Triumph members charged into the room behind him, Dragonfly heard a horrible, familiar laughter echoing outside the windows.
Pulling aside the curtain, Dragonfly couldn’t believe his eyes. Stretched over the massive downtown skyline to the North, he saw the image of his old foe, Professor Sampson, long dead, laughing maniacally in the night sky, stretching from the lake to the West Suburbs. From his evil, grinning mouth, flew hundreds of forms which looked at first like birds, but turned out to be another thing he’d seen once before: the beginnings of a demon invasion.
“Triumph,” Dragonfly said, closing the curtain, “we’ve got trouble.”
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