Chase didn't say a word for most of the ride back to the hotel. He tuned out the sounds of his friends talking about the assembly and lost himself in his self-created quietness.

Unfortunately for him, the inside of his head was anything but silent. A million different thoughts and scenarios swam through his psyche like minnows in a muddy stream. The PRA would change everything if signed.

Atlas would surely be absorbed by the United Nations. Director Shaw would be forced into early retirement. As for the Prime task force—which was full of impressionable, young adults—would be under the harsh scrutiny of the world governments.

Despite all of those factors, something else was worrying him.

Victor Shaw. Apex. The fugitive Prime—as the media liked to call him.

Atlas had abandoned their search for Director Shaw's missing son months ago. They had gotten close a few times, specifically in the sandy wasteland of New Mexico. But each time, he had slipped through their fingers. Chase remembered the time he headed the force tasked with bringing the man in.

He remembered nearly catching Apex. He had been inches away from him before he teleported away.

In truth, he never had a chance of catching him. He was quick. Smart. Elusive. After a while, Atlas deemed him not a threat. After all, he hadn't been attacking anyone. He wasn't trying to resurrect Kismet. He was just...running. From what, Chase didn't know.

Eventually, Atlas stopped their search.

But Chase hadn't given up. Some nights, he would find himself waking up in a cold sweat with Apex's crimson glare piercing the dark clouds of his mind. The white scar along his abdomen would flare with pain from the past. He could even feel the snow sticking to his clammy skin again from the military base on Adak Island.

No matter what he did, he couldn't escape that dream.

He had to find Apex. And not just to bring him to justice for his crimes. He knew that was important, and he knew that should've been his intentions, but it wasn't.

No. What he needed from Apex were answers.

Back on Adak Island, Chase was sure he was going to die. But Apex didn't pull the trigger. In fact, he had done a full one-eighty and murdered his master. Before vanishing into thin air, the man had given Chase a look.

He needed to know what it meant.

"Chase."

The blond flinched at the sound of his own name. He glanced at Stella, who was sat beside him in the tinted van inching through the New York traffic. She peered at him with curiosity in her brilliant eyes.

"You alright, hun?"

Swallowing hard, he nodded and forced a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks." He took a peek out the window. Cars were backed up along the street for at least half a mile. Horns blared through the air band without a conductor.

"I know this is New York but this is ridiculous," Victoria said from the front seat. "I've never seen it this slow before."

"Maybe there was an accident," Andre theorized. The big guy was playing a game on his phone while Oscar watched.

"There better have been," Victoria grumbled. She continued to slouch in her seat with her arms folded and her steely glare pointed toward the outside congestion.

"Uh...guys?" From the backseat, Oscar leaned in between the aisle of the van. He held out his phone, which was playing a live video stream nearby Times Square. "I think this might be what's holding us up."

Chase squinted at the video feed. Someone was recording behind a crowd of people who had gathered around three individuals standing on the base of a fountain. The person in the middle of the trio, a stocky man with a thick beard and short, dark hair, spoke with a voice that could move an elephant. The other two people, a woman with two long braids and a huge man with a brutish face, stood at the bearded man's side silently.

"What the hell is this?"

"It's probably just someone spouting off their religious nonsense," Victoria said from the front seat. "Happens all the time. They get on their soapbox and—"

Stella shook her head. "I don't think that's what this is." She instructed Oscar to turn the volume up on his phone.

Over the commotion of the crowd and the distant wail of police sirens, Chase began to make out what the speaker in the video was saying.

"—wish to oppress our kind. Primes are the superior race! Us! Kismet had the right idea all along, but they were silenced for it. But we won't be silenced. You normal people will bow before us like the gods we are."

The people before them, a mixture of tourists and native New Yorkers, booed. Some even threw pieces of trash.

Chase and Stella exchanged an apprehensive look.

"Still think this is some 'religious nonsense'?" Andre asked Victoria.

She simply rolled her eyes.

"I think we should do something about this," Stella said. A hint of panic had tinged her cheeks red.

Chase nodded. "I agree. This could get out of hand quickly if we don't do something."

From the front seat, Director Shaw turned around and faced them. He looked at them all for a few moments before nodding. "Please, be safe out there. And no more disasters. I don't think we could afford another one."

"Yes, sir."

After taking off his suit jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt, Chase exited the van. Stella and Andre followed after him. Oscar and Victoria opted to stay in the van with Director Shaw in case things went south. Besides, there wasn't much Oscar could do with his abilities in his situation.

Chase turned to his girlfriend. "You can get there quicker than we can. Try and stop the police from engaging."

"Got it." Stella bent her knees slightly while particles of light swirled around her like tiny, glowing stars. She then exploded upwards into the sky with her white sweater fluttering around her like a cape. Within seconds, she was flying over the clogged street and toward Times Square.

"What about us?" Andre asked. He had coated his skin in the same metal that made up his arm. Its silver, glossy surface reflected the colorful cars around them.

"We deal with them if it comes to it," Chase answered. "The big guy might be an issue, but the other two look harmless enough. It shouldn't be too hard."

In truth, he had no idea what to expect. But he knew it couldn't be too bad. Over the past two years, he'd faced teleporting ninjas, a man who could turn into a wolfish monster, and ice throwing lunatics. Taking care of a few crazies who shared Kismet's ideology would be a piece of cake.

Andre—now assuming his Titan persona—gave him a curt nod. Without a second thought, Chase took off running for the trio of Primes in Times Square with Andre in tow.

As the two of them waded through the cluttered lanes of sedans, trucks, and taxis, a few bystanders began to take notice of them. Scowling, Chase tried his best to ignore them. He didn't hate the attention, which he got his fair share of. He just found it extremely distracting—especially during a mission.

Funnily enough, Andre—or Titan—didn't seem to mind the attention. During most of their missions, he'd be the one protecting the civilians trying to record the battle on their phones. Because of this, he was one of the more popular members of the Prime task force. The fact that he rarely spoke, smiled, or expressed any kind of interest in anything didn't seem to matter to the general public. All they cared about was his heroic tendencies. 

He was a delight for Atlas' marketing team too. They were even thinking about making a line of action figures for the guy.

"Hey, look! It's Sentinel and Titan!" some kid yelled while leaning out the window of an SUV. A few others exited their vehicles or stepped off the curb to snap a few pictures of them.

"I wish we wore masks," Chase said through gritted teeth. "Why don't we wear masks?"

Andre shrugged. "Dunno. Ask Director Shaw."

He huffed.

Once the crowd realized who they were, they began to make way for them to pass through. It only took them a few minutes to arrive at the scene of the Kismet-inspired rant. The trio of Primes were still stood on top of the fountain spewing their evolutionist drivel.

"I thought we got rid of these clowns when Kane died," Andre said.

"Yeah, me and you both, buddy."

He approached them slowly with his hands held away from his body. He looked around just as a few police cruisers pulled up to the sidewalk.

Uh oh.

He turned to Andre and Stella, who had descended from the clouds. "Try and keep the crowd back while I talk to them."

Stella arched an eyebrow at him. "You're going to do the talking? In that case, we might as well start fighting now."

Andre snorted back a laugh.

He ignored them both and faced his fellow Primes.

"Look!" the bearded man, who seemed to be their leader, announced. "The leader of the puppets is here!" His thick lips twisted into a sneer. "They treat you like a weapon and you still fight for them. Pathetic."

"The only thing pathetic here is you," he shot back. He jabbed his index finger at the man. "I need you and your friends to stand down. This doesn't have to escalate—"

"Escalate?" The man laughed. "And why would this have to escalate? My siblings and I aren't doing anything wrong. We are well within our rights."

Chase balled his hands into tight fists. While the guy was right about them being protected by the constitution, he knew the police weren't going to care. In their eyes, Primes weren't afforded the same rights as normal humans—as asinine as that sounded. And it wasn't like the police didn't have a reason to be a little trigger-happy. Primes have been causing death and destruction across the planet for months now. Someone was bound to snap sooner or later.

He just hoped it'd be later.

"Look," he started, "I need you to stand down. If not, people might get hurt."

"And who's going to hurt them?" The man titled his head inquisitively. His companions glared at the boy silently.

Blowing air out his nose, he shook his head. He took a glance over his shoulder. Stella was speaking with the head officer on site, most likely urging his people to stand by. Andre was pushing the crowd back—and signing autographs.

Chase turned back around and sighed. "What's your name?"

"I go by King."

"King, huh?" He rolled his eyes. "That's a little vain, don't you think?"

"You're one to talk, Sentinel."

He bit inside of his cheek to stop himself from sneering at the man. "I won't ask you again. Stand down or I'll be forced to take you down."

The man chuckled and stepped down from his perch. "I'd like to see you try."

He rolled his shoulders back. He popped his knuckles and activated his holo-shield. King bristled. The man's arm reached out for him, but that was as far as it got.

A deafening crack had torn through the air.

Chase felt a rush of air pass by his right ear as something whistled past. His mouth hung ajar as he watched a bullet ricochet off of King's chest. It left a smoking hole in the man's tattered winter coat and a pissed expression on his rugged mug.

Spinning on his heel, Chase searched through the row of officers hiding behind their parked vehicles for the shooter. A young-looking cop trembled underneath his glare with their hands shaking. The barrel of their gun was smoking like a lit cigarette.

You've gotta be kidding me.

"I said don't shoot!" Stella yelled.

"That was a mistake." King peeled off his coat. He tossed it to the ground, revealing his muscular arms and chest. Tufts of body hair and the odd scar covered his blotchy skin.

Chase held a hand out toward him. His eyes widened as he watched the Prime take a deep breath. "Now, wait just a sec—"

King brought his hands together, interrupting the boy's warning. Shockwaves of raw force left the man's palms and hurtled him. He tried bracing himself for impact, but there was nothing he could've done.

The wave of energy smacked into him, sending his body skidding across the recently cracked pavement. He managed to use his shield to slow his momentum. After coming to a stop, he got back to his feet and groaned.

His entire body felt like it'd been hit by a truck.

What the hell was that?

He had thought King's ability would've been something strength related given his size and stature. How wrong he was.

"Goliath," King said flippantly. "Take care of the pawn for me."

The huge man beside him grunted in confirmation.

With his body still aching, Chase squinted at the other Prime, who was apparently named Goliath. The beast of a human pawed the ground with his work boots before barreling towards him.

Uh oh.

The massive monstrosity bellowed as he swung a fist the size of an anvil at Chase. He ducked underneath it and slipped into Goliath's blind spot. After delivering two quick punches to his side, he jogged backward.

"What the hell are they feeding you?"

It was clear that whatever his power was had affected his entire body. His head was larger than the average human's and he was built like a bull. His height alone would make a professional basketball player look like a malnourished wimp.

Goliath ignored Chase's question and swung another fist at him. This time, it connected.

The boy let out a scream as he sailed into the wall of a nearby bookstore. People inside screamed and scampered around the destroyed shelves he had crashed into. The smell of splintered wood, old paper, and coffee grounds assaulted his nostrils as he looked up at the ceiling.

He groaned. Not only was his entire body alight with pain, but he had ruined someone's shop. Director Shaw was not going to be happy.

"My books! I just set up that display this morning!" the owner yelled from behind him. He could feel their hot stare against his skull. "You're going to pay for this!"

"Yeah, yeah." He uttered a half-hearted reply as he got back to his feet. Suddenly, he didn't feel bad about destroying that person's store anymore.

He rubbed his back and winced. Nothing was broken, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. Had it not been for his nearly indestructible skin and bones, he wouldn't have survived that collision.

Goliath hadn't yet charged again, giving him some time to assess the rest of his surroundings.

Much to his dismay, the police had opened fire on the three rogue Primes in the center of the populated plaza. Andre and Stella were doing there best to protect the civilians as they fled the area, but King, Goliath, and their accomplice weren't making things easy. The woman with the long braids seemed to be spitting projectile acid from her mouth, which also housed a forked, snake-like tongue.

Chase shook off his confusion and stepped out the wreckage he caused. He reactivated his shield and detached it from its holder. In one swift motion, he launched himself into the air and chucked the blue disk.

It hurtled towards it target: Goliath's chest.

The force behind the shield sent the Prime a few yards back. Capitalizing on the large man's lack of mobility, Chase quickly closed the distance between them. He jabbed at Goliath's face—but it never connected.

Goliath caught his fist and grinned.

"Ghost was right," he mumbled. "You are dumb."

"Wha—"

Chase's body was flung into the air as if he were a rag doll. He hit the ground shoulder first. All the air vanished from his lungs, leaving him wheezing on the sidewalk. Around him, he could see bystanders beginning to surround him. Most were either trying to make sure he was alright or trying to encourage him to get up.

Though, the odd person was snapping a video or getting a picture from afar.

"Sentinel!"

Lifting his head, he saw Stella running his way with a barrier of light between herself and the snake-tongued woman—who kept spitting nasty globs of greenish-yellow acid at her. His girlfriend helped him to his feet and dusted off his shirt.

"You okay?" she asked.

Nodding, he grit his teeth and scowled at the three Primes battling the police and Andre, who had shifted his skin from silver to solid concrete. He was holding his own against Goliath and King for the time being, but even he couldn't take them both on for long.

"Today would've been the perfect time to have the full team."

Stella nodded. "Tell me about it." She turned to him. "What do we do? It's your call."

He thought for a second, though, his flashing nerve synapses weren't making things easy. It was clear to see that the three of them wouldn't be able to take the three rogue Primes down themselves. And, if what Goliath had said earlier, they seemed to know Chase's weaknesses—and more than likely his friends too.

Furrowing his brow, he dug deep into his brain for a plan.

"Alright," he said. "We're going to—"

"Goliath, Viper!" King's voice boomed across the square. "Time to go!"

"What the hell is that?!" one of the officers yelled shortly after.

Everyone had stopped shooting. The civilians in the background had even stopped screaming and shouting in order to get a good look at what appeared in the center of the plaza.

Chase's eyes widened as he laid his gaze upon it.

A shadowy silhouette of what appeared to be an owl floated in the air. In the center floated a woman in a black cloak. Her dark locs glittered with golden trinkets. King, Goliath, and the other Prime had rushed into shadow.

"Keep shooting!" another officer yelled.

Their bullets ripped through the winter air but never made it past the dark veil. The woman hovering within its core opened her eyes, which were a stark white. She closed them again, and in the blink of an eye, she was gone along with the three Primes and her shadow guardian.

Chase turned to Stella. Her eyes were wide with surprise and a hint of terror.

Seconds later, Andre trotted over to them. The stony exterior of his skin melted away until its original color was all that remained. He gestured at where the trio of Primes had just been standing. A group of officers had approached the area and scratched their heads.

"What the hell was that?" Andre asked.

"That," Chase said before swallowing hard, "is a problem."