“Come, come, eat your soup. It is good for you, and will help you back on your feet very soon.”

	The speaker was an old man, dark-skinned, and with a lilt in his voice that betrayed a Hindu descent. He stood perhaps five foot five, and was quite slender, his long jacket falling in rough folds over his rumpled shirt and trousers. Dark eyes glittered merrily as he handed his patient a spoon.

	Blinking, and shaking his head to get the last of the fuzz out of his brain, Calvin Hobbes looked at his host quizzically. “Um... sir... where am I? Last thing I ‘member is fightin’ with Legion an’ the cops against some mob guys.”

	The old man chuckled. “Yes, and one of the interesting toys your enemies used managed to cause you a great deal of harm. You are fortunate I was passing by, and was able to retrieve you before the building collapsed upon you.”

	“Umm... right. Uh, sir, ya sound like ya know who I am, so, um, would ya mind if I asked who you are?” asked Calvin.

	“Ah, yes, that. Simply call me Narsimha. Now, you must rest. It will be a few days before you are ready to leave, and return to your friends.” The old man took the empty bowl back from the feline metahuman, who realized with a start that he had eaten every bit, even though he didn’t remember touching it. “Sleep, young one, sleep.”

	“But... But my friends...” he complained, even as his eyes began to close on their own.

	“They can survive without you for a little while longer,” insisted Narsimha. “But you would not survive there. Rest, and in the morning, we shall talk.”

	“In.. the... morning...” Seconds later, Calvin was snoring away contentedly.

*******************************

	“Could you hurry up, Doc? I want to get out there to help look for Calvin as soon as possible,” complained Jarhead.

	“Now, Anthiny,” chided Darkenwulf, “this cast is coming off early as it is. If you rush me, the laser scalpel might slip and cut you.” He held a peculiar rod-shaped device, emitting a thin red beam, which he was using to remove the plaster cast on Jarhead’s leg.

	“I know, I know, but he’s been missing for three days! We don’t know where he is, or who’s got him!” 

	Rache, the gorgeous redhead that manned the front desk of the Hostel, leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “While it’s very sweet that you want to help find Calvin, you aren’t going anywhere without a cane for a while. And me on your other arm, to keep you out of trouble,” she grinned.

	He responded with a grin of his own. “Well, since you put it that way, maybe we could both go looking together?”

	Down the hall from the infirmary, Brian Murphy, also known as Hauler, worked away at the special device created for him by Darkenwulf. Composed of the same extremely durable alien metal as the walls of the Testing Chamber, it used electromagnetism to simulate weights far greater than would possibly fit in the Hostel. Currently, he had the machine set to eighty tons. It was not enough for a real workout but enough to get rid of some frustration, and was pushing away on a set of bench presses. “Huff... When I find the kid... hmmmph... gonna give him what for... ufh...”

	Unnoticed as he worked his immense strength, Gateway slipped into the room, and watched him for a short while in awe. She knew how powerful he was, but the readout on the machine put it into a stark realization of just what he had become. She, herself, was a metahuman, but her power was nowhere near as great in her own eyes. As her name suggested, she simply created gateways between places she had been before or could see. True, she had been instrumental in helping her sister, Flamestrike, stop the Undead known as the Liche a few months prior, but in general her primary function in Legion was as a glorified taxi cab.

	His set done, Hauler pushed a button on the bench near the bar, and it lifted away, now weighing less than an ounce. He sat up, and noticed Gateway. “Oh... err, hi, Jennifer.” He paused, and looked around the room, as a nervous silence filled the air. “So... err, you wanting to work out or something?”

	Gateway blushed. “Umm, no, Brian. I, well, that is, I just... I just want to help you look for Black Tiger when it’s your shift,” she blurted out.

	For some reason, Brian felt a little disappointed at that. “Oh, okay.” Once again, that awkward silence surrounded them for a few moments. “So, umm, you like him, huh?”

	Once again, gateway blushed. “Umm, yeah... but just as a friend!” she blurted out. “I mean, heh, can you imagine if we went on a date? There’d be cat hair everywhere...”

	As the mental image entered his mind, Brian tried to hold back a laugh, but it was too much. The stress he had been feeling cracked with that statement. He plopped back onto the weight bench with a resounding boom, and erupted with laughter. “Heheh, yeah, and if you passed a ball of yarn in the streets, he’d stand you up to go play with it.”

	Now Gateway started laughing. “Heh, and we’d have to call the fire department when he gets stuck in a tree.” They laughed some more, then slowly stopped, and looked at each other. “I... I don’t like Calvin that way, Brian.” She took a deep breath. “I... I l...like you th...that way,” she stammered, then blushed the deepest shade of crimson Brian had seen in a very long while, and ran out of the room.

	This, of course, left one confused and thoughtful muscleman in the excercise room with a very great deal to think about.

********************************

	Elsewhere, darker thoughts filled a sinister mind. Earthshaker Stood in the ready room of his hidden base, and addressed the three cyborgs standing before him. “Lieutenants Glaive, Gauntlet, and Decibel, this mission is, I must stress, NOT to bring harm to any of our foes, as the previous mission was. It is simply to gain further information about this Legion, to best prepare the perfect defenses against them.”

	As the massive cyborg spoke, cyborg technicians began handing out body suits to the three. Earthshaker continued, “These suits are filled with numerous micro sensors, to determine the type, intensity, and, if applicable, the frequencies of the energies utilized by themembers of Legion capable of ranged attack. You are to draw them out by keeping your distance, and allow yourselves to be hit by their attacks.”

	The right-hand one, Decibel, raised his left arm. Instead of a hand, he had what appeared to be some sort of loudspeaker on that arm. “Sir, you’re saying you want us to get hit?”

	The one in the middle, Gauntlet, scratched his head with his oversized metallic hands. “Sir, I’ll follow this order, but I would like to say it’s a mite confusing.”

	To the left, Glaive snorted. “Cowards, the both of you. Our leader has a plan, I’m sure of it.”

	“Precisely, Glaive,” sneered Earthshaker. “You are to get hit, yes... but not get captured. Once each member of Legion has attacked and struck at least one of you, then you are to utilize this.” He held out canisters roughly the size of a soda can. “These smoke grenades are much thicker than current military issue, and include microscopic metallic particles to confound even modern radar. The smoke burns hot, also concealing you to, say, the enhanced vision of the bestial members of Legion. Only certain frequencies of ultraviolet light can pass, frequencies your optics can tune into rapidly.

	“Put simply, get a taste of what they have to offer, then get away. However you do it, return those suits to our technicians.” He waved his hand. “You leave in the morning. That will be all.”

********************************

	Back at the Hostel, Silverlance relaxed in his office, having finally finished the paperwork on recent new arrivals requested by Inspector Avagnarde. John had protested at first, until the Inspector pointed out that the paperwork would not be sent to him unless the arrival decided to jointhe security detail, more commonly known as Legion. In truth, it was not very intrusive, simply the inhabitant’s name, any aliases, and former adress, of any. 

	Jarhead, cane in one hand, and Rache holding the other, knocked on the open doorway. “Hey, John, you busy?”

	The proprieter of the Mendolsson Memorial Hostel for Displaced Metahumans shook his head. “I’ve already arringed tonights search pattern for Calvin, and just finished the paperwork on Yomi and Garth for Inspector Avagnarde. Come on in.”

	The two sat down, and Rache scanned the paperwork, looking for clerical errors. Jarhead leaned his cane against the chair, and scratched his head. “Boss, I’ve been thinking about the fight the other day, and the gangsters.”

	John nodded. “So have I, Anthony. We may have stopped them, but they have caused us to lose one of the founding members of the Hostel, and a good friend.” He leaned back in his chair. “But why would the Domain supply gangsters here, and not in Patriot City?”

	“That’s the thing,” started Jarhead, “they weren’t our enemy until they shot the DA.”

	“But what about you, Rache, and the car?” puzzled Silverlance.

	“It wasn’t them,” replied Anthony. “The note you recieved was printed on some sort of advanced computer, right?”

	“Yes, according to Darkenwulf.”

	“Well, I just got off the phone with the Inspector. His men have been going over the wreckage of the old department store, and they found plenty of weapons and gadgets, like a couple of those force field belts.” He leaned forward, and fixed Silverlance with a gaze. “But nothing DeeWee recognizes as a computer.”

	Silverlance furrowed his brow. “What exactly are you saying?”

	“That the Domain supplied somebody with all sorts of weapons and equipment - that’s our new enemy. But that enemy supplied the Vespuccis, possibly to throw us off the track.” He leaned back once more, and glanced at Rache. “Calvin’s in more trouble than we thought.

	“And so is the Hostel.”

********************************

	Sunlight flowed through the window across the room from Calvin, and he rolled over to get the offending light out of his eyes. It was then when he remembered the incident from the night before. 

	Looking around, he saw that he was in ahet appeared to be a sparesely furnished bedroom, yet one that was clean and comfortable. He began to sit up, remembering how much of a chore it was yesterday when he had tried, and was amazed to find it quite easy. Emboldened, he pivoted, and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and stood up. He felt slightly weak, but otherwise okay, so he wandered out. into the hallway.

	The scent of eggs and bacon soon reached his nose, and he followed it almost involuntarily, his stomach growling. Soon he was in a small kitchen, whose sole window showed the beginnings of a beautiful morning. “Ah, you are awake,” came the lilting voice behind him. “good, good, you must eat.”

	Turning, Calvin saw Narsimh, the man who claimed to have rescued his unconscious form from the collapsing building, holding two plates piled high with scrambled eggs, bacon, and biscuits with jelly. As the old man set the plates down, Calvins curiosity warred with his hunger. His hunger won, and he settled down to eat. “Twnk yww,” he said, mumbling through a mouthful of eggs.

	“Ah, you are welcome, young Calvin,” responded Narsimha. “So polite,” he teased, as he took a bite of his own breakfast.

	Abashed, Calvin blushed under his fur. “Err, sorry. Umm... I thought last night you said I was going ta be here a while to get stronger? I feel a whole lot stronger already, so mebbe I can leave today?”

	The old man looked at him, and Calvin found himself meeting their steely gaze. He felt a strength radiating from him he could not put into words, and a tiny hint of awe entered his mind. “Young man, I have bcome aware of events to come, events you must be part of. And so, I have given you a gift.”

	Narsimha set down his fork. “You do not know your birth father’s family. All I shall tell you is that... a lifetime ago... they were my enemies. Dire enemies.” Those steely eyes flashed again, and Calvin felt his heart skip in fear. Fighting it down, he raised another fork full of food to stuff in his mouth. “But... you are not like them. You are slightly uneducated, but good of heart. Courageous. And accepting of others. When threatened with death, and the urge to kill rose, you showed mercy, so many months ago. And so, I have given you a gift.”

	Calvin found himself feeling slightly dizzy, as the old man’s eyes filled his sight. Visions of towering castles of old danced in his thoughts, in a style that evoked the sounds of tigers and elephants somewhere deep in the back of his mind. Odd idols with many arms and multiple heads cavorted, and music unlike any he had ever heard echoed through him. “What... gift...?” he managed to ask, before becoming lost in the visions.

	Narsimha’s voice echoed within his very soul, sounding as if ten voices spoke at once, with the tenth voice coming from some time in the far future. “Ah, young Black Tiger. I hereby do gift the, to ever draw strength from the light, and expell the darkness in thy soul.” 

	And then Calvin knew no more, as he slid deep into dreams of another time and place.