Defeated. Defeated by the very thing he had resolved to defend against. These children chipping away at his body were not the greatest insult to his life. It was not their fervor or strength, nor their youth or luck. It was that everything he had come to know, come to prepare for, and defied, was in essence the thing that led to his defeat here. The Final Five were merely the medium with which it had sunk its fangs into his body.
Mystery. The unknowable. The enemy of order.
Whatever conspired against him in those moments had won out, and now he was left ruined by irony itself. His greatest attack dismissed, and his limbs torn, his chest caved, and his torso severed. Thremont laid upon the charred ground as the havoc settled, the Final Five's burst of obscene power now fading away all too late. He could not rise again. He could not himself dismiss the miraculous triumph they'd wrought, holding out against the tide of some mystery force and prove that all he'd achieved was the right path. The right decision.
He was proven wrong, but no epiphany would come to him. He would not suddenly see the error of his ways, or that these heroes were what he'd wanted to be all along. No. The only thing that was for certain, was that his daughter was correct.
They were, as she she'd said,
monsters. Perhaps not born, but made. And he'd lost to them. Were there a soul he could put trust in, Thremont would not feel so damned, or his hope for humanity so dim. But there was not. He knew of no others that could stand to what he'd witnessed and felt. To him...
...society was doomed to chaos.
Immobilized, Thremont could only speak out in the dust-choked room.
"S-so grzzt-e it." His voice erred and faltered, electronic sounds interrupting his words periodically.
"It seems I've f-zzzzt-led to a-grrrt-nt for true chaos to rea-zzzt this Earth so soon. I see now th-ah-ah-ah-ah-t fate has been d-eeerrrrttt-ided already. I c-a-a-n only hope that... bzzzzt you are n-n-ot-t-t-t-t-t the ones to bring ruin up-rtttttzzzz the world. I would... I would ask 'please' b-zzzzz-ut I do not imagine it is y-your-tt-t-t-t decision..." A small chuckled escaped Thremont, dotted by increasingly more corrupted sounds.
"At l-least l-eeeeeeeeeeee-ve my d-da-zzzzzzt." The light faded from Thremont's visor, and he spoke no more. The ship rocked once again, but with the relief of knowing it was once again over the ocean from whence it arose, the Final Five could at least rest easy that it was not going to collapse upon a city. With the leftover overcharge from Iphie's prior state, it had the energy to float nigh-harmlessly down. The swell would no doubt be astounding, but would not result in a particularly destructive wave. For all tends and purposes, they were in the clear.
Personnel evacuated and the fleet landed haphazardly, sinking into the black depths of the open Pacific Ocean. Valentine was retrieved from the bowels of the flagship, and the Final Five returned to terrestrial ground after what seemed like days on end.
With the temporal shield gone and the fleet clearly out of commission, the world at large breathed a sigh of relief. Whilst the shield was raised, those countries that had come into possession of an anti-invasion cannon, a relic of the aftermath of the olde alien encounter, had brought them back to life and tested them against Thremont's fleet to no avail. Even the catastrophically immense power of the last-resort weapons could do nothing to the shield, and all hope seemed lost. Though Thremont loosened no arrows of his own, the threatening nature of the fleet's looming presence sent ripples of panic throughout the world. With its speedy demise, the Final Five disrupted not only the fleet itself, but any further panic that had begun to take root. The extent to which they had relieved the world's governments and corporate superpowers could only be felt once they had made it back to true civilization.
They were first welcomed by their comrades, John and Limov, once they touched ground in Japan. The two men congratulated the team for their exceptional work, not knowing just how egregious their battles had been on Mars and within the fleet's shield. There were stories to tell, to be sure. Taking their leave back home for some well-earned rest and relaxation, the storm of messages from news outlets and local governments would come soon enough. Within a mere day it had seemed as if they would be featured on every device that had a transistor across the globe.
Interviews, awards, fans. The notoriety that the original Five had amassed seemed, then, to have finally come to them in turn. Their world saving moment had been made, and they'd be forever emblazoned into the halls of heroic history. For weeks on end their names were paraded across media, sparking debates not merely on their vigilante nature, but of their powers as well. Fan clubs sprouted instantaneously, pitting the Final Five against their former superiors, and against what had seemed to be a rising society of instigated villainy. For the time being, they needn't work; the forces of evil that yet arose were not of a stature requiring their attention. They earned their rest. And their comrades stressed that they use it.
To the public, they were the heroes of the world, and they would maintain that title even as others followed in their footsteps. A true culture of vigilantism had been sparked by their deeds, and the world was unsure of how to deal with it. The supernatural or simply superpowered citizens of Earth were not merely limited to their five, and so it seemed that measures were needed to keep things mellow.
John eventually notified the Final Five of the oncoming slew of regulations that Shanhu's larger political body would be discussing with them. He assured them many times that they would be truly free to act as they would -no organization would dare shackle the power they had to right wrongs- but that surveillance would nonetheless be paramount so as to ease the worries of other groups, and even the citizenry itself; not everyone saw the Final Five's unbridled power as welcoming. The specifics of it he did not yet know.
Soon after their victory, a grand celebration was planned by Shanhu's elite, both to celebrate Thremont's tyrannical demise and the official "return" of the Final Five as an organization. No longer to be talked about in mere suppository newspaper articles, they'd be brought into the light of the world at large. To be hosted in two weeks time, there was ample time to prepare and enjoy the fruits of their labor.
The party was immense, especially considering the lavishness of everyone that had attended. No mere streetside celebration, the gathering for the Final Five was one of pomp and extravagance. Hotel Cobalt was one of the most decorated in Shanhu, known even to the elite as one that required care in attendance; one was to put on their best and be their best from the moment they checked into the moment they departed. No expense was spared, to say the least, and the Final Five, save perhaps Iphigenia, knew of such things.
Not a single attendee appeared less than the wealthiest of moguls, so much so that it was nearly uncomfortable to the uninitiated. A certain air of ridiculous stature saturated the entire hotel, and choked the convention hall where most had gathered. The welcoming for the Final Five had already died down, with attendees now offering them winks and nods of approval as they passed, rather than the standing ovations when they had first arrived.
Taken aside to speak individually, they were inundated with questions and praise, even bodyguard job offers at times, to say nothing of the arranged marriage proposals for sons and daughters, some in jest, others in absolute sincerity. Over time, the Final Five had come together once more, the elite now conversing amongst another around them as servers and photographers slipped between. The assault by interested parties wasn't truly over, however.
From within the sea of black and gold approached a
tall girl of proud but sincere appearance. Her eyes were drawn to Iphie as she came, and the girl would immediately recognize her as Camille Illendaught, heiress to the Retra Company; as the most massive pharmaceutical and medical technology business in the world, it held similar standings to Courtlandt Holdings.
"Iphigenia. It has been a long time, though we've not made friends much," Camille greeted, extending a hand,
"Congratulations to your doubly-greater standings, both as a member of the Final Five and a lucky recipient of many of Thremont's assets. You must be feeling a good amount of petty revenge," she smiled. The young woman turned to the rest of the Final Five in turn, a smile of subtle respect glowing from her expression.
"Each of you must be feeling quite overwhelmed by all this notoriety. I hope it's not turned any of you off to heroism," she laughed.