They were just five characters, modeled after her and her four friends.

Ana has always wanted to fly. Not like in a glider or plane, where there's a sheet of metal between you and the air, but really fly. She can't remember no wanting wings of her own. her friends understand, and share her desire. she puts all of her desire and feeling into her comic books, each one drawn and colored painstakingly by hand. Then, one day, she wakes up, and realizes that her stories may be coming to life, but what is the cost?

I know that there's nothing about the X-Men in this chapter,

But don't worry all you fans, they'll come in around chapter 3 or something.


"Excuse me, Miss. Skyre, but the class is actually being taught on this side of the window."

Anastasia jumped, her gaze snapping back to the work on her desk. She had been staring out the window, enviously watching a wild hawk circle above the school. Since as long as she could remember, she had wanted to fly. Her parents sometimes talked to her about taking gliding lessons or pilot lessons, but they just didn't understand. While flying or gliding might satiate her to some extent, it just wouldn't be the same. It would be like gliding wherever she wanted to go, which would be useful, but nothing would be able to take the place of the thrill of running with her own two feet. If she was ever to fly, she wanted to do it with her own power, to feel her own energy, to sweat with the effort of doing something difficult and spectacular in the clouds. What she really wanted… was wings. And not any wire-and-metal mumbo jumbo they might invent in the future.

Not paying any more attention than she had five minutes earlier, Ana pulled out a piece of computer paper that was already half filled with drawings. Ever since she had started middle school (Ana was 14), she had passed the classes away with her drawings. She had exactly 285 and 1/2 pages of some all-American comic drawings. She had nine complete books, all hand-draw and colored. Each of the had about thirty pages each, and Ana was working diligently on her tenth. They were part of a storyline that Ana had titled AngelForce. It was about five teenagers; Sasha, the ringleader; Jack, the second-in-command; Paul, the clown; Shane, the computer-addict; and Caden, the omega-lowest, the punching bag, and the wimp. One fateful morning, they all grew wings. Their parents pulled them out of school, and each had to deal with their own family issues. But through high school, the teenagers had formed an unbreakable bond, an understanding so perfect that it bordered the ability to read each other's thoughts. Though they could very well read each other's thoughts to a certain extent and usually did the exact same things perfectly as a team without any verbal contact, they had never been able to actually use real telepathy. Until they changed. After a total day of staying in their houses, Sasha heard voices in her head. They got louder and louder, until she screamed out—mentally and verbally—to stop. Her parents were out at the doctor's, so the didn't come running as they would have otherwise. Sasha then heard Jack's voice in her head.

Sasha?

Jack!

What… how?

Did you hear them too?

The other voices?

Yeah.

I did.

Sasha and Jack? Is it you?

Paul! You too?

I'm here as well.

Shane!

And me.

Caden! So we're all here?

I guess. Are you guys a school.

No.

At home.

Bored in bed.

Same. Wait, are you guys home because—

Wings?

Don't tell me…

I have them too!

Same!

Here as well!

Upon realizing and coming to terms with their transformations, the five teens planned a meeting on top of a skyscraper downtown. They all escaped from their homes, and flew there, each letting their instincts guide the beats of their wings. They met, and realized that their wings were different colors. Sasha's were white to a certain extent, with black flecks in them like a snowy owl's. Jack's were black and glossy, like a raven's. Paul's were red and looked like fire in the sun, like a red-tailed hawk's. Shane's were blue, white, and black, like a jay's, and Caden's wings were mottled brown and grey, like a barn owl's. While they were in the middle of talking things over, the lower portion of the skyscraper (also a very large bank), was attacked. Without thinking, the five winged teens dropped out of the sky. The spectators of the robbery were shocked as they saw five angels appear from the clouds and fly into the bank. In a matter of minutes, the muggers were unconscious, tied up in their own chains, and the police had arrived. Startled, Sasha broke a back window through which the other four escaped behind her. When they returned home, they found their houses on fire, and a tape recorder in Sasha's living room. There, they got a message.

"Welcome home, little Angels." The message began. "I am pleased to inform you that your families are all right. However, they are in my prison cells, and will stay that way for now. My name is Magman, and you five are in a very dangerous position; between me, and my goal. Have a nice day."

So ends the first book. In the second, they find out that Magman has the power to melt anything within a mile radius at will, and was plotting to destroy all humanit, and start a new world in his image. In this episode, the five actually name themselves 'the AngelForce', and also discover that they all have secondary powers, along with their wings, which they are just starting to get used to. Sasha has superhuman speed, and Jack has superhuman strength. They both also are at peak human potential, so jack has increased agility, stamina, and endurance, and even though he is faster than normal, he cannot hope to match Sasha, while she had increased stamina, agility, and endurance, though her increased strength is still far less than Jack's. Paul became unbeatable with weapons, and could shoot a bottle cap from half a mile away with a standard handgun, though he prefers the bladed Bo staff that he made himself. Shane retained superhuman brainpower, and could make anything out of metal. Caden got the ability to teleport. The rest of the books are about the Angels fighting Magman, though they never actually see what he looks like. Each of the characters stars in a book where they are the hero. They decided in the third book what their superhero names would be, and eventually got around to making their costumes in the middle of book four. Sasha was named Whiplash, Jack was named Standard, Paul was named Target, Shane paired up with his high-tech battle armor was named Cybernoid, and Caden was named Pulse.

"Ana! Pay attention!"


"There's too many of them!" Standard yelled, taking out another robot. "We have to retreat!"

The waves of Magman's goons seemed endless, and there was always one more to take the place of one brought down.

"Don't be stupid!" Whiplash said, taking out five robots a second. She flashed over to Standard. "Look up! There's nowhere to retreat to!"

Standard took out another one, and looked up, his heart nearly stopping in horror. A dome, blocking out the moon and stars, as well as the source of fresh air, had encased the top of the quarry. Standard knew Magman well enough to know that there were no air vents in the misused marble quarry that he had made his base. And robots didn't need to breath. Suddenly, the robot lines thinned, and then disappeared, all of them running into the shadows. It was already beginning to get a little warm. Suddenly, there was a huge tremor. Three seconds passed. Another tremor. They were footsteps. Of something really big. The five angels walked backwards, meeting in the middle of the quarry back-to-back, wings touching. Then, out of a gaping hole, a huge machine stepped into the quarry. It was four-limbed, contraptions that vaguely resembled paws on the bottom of each one. Its head was roughly triangular, like a dog's. The whole thing was a mottled gray, with splotches of different shades spread out. It made a groaning noise every time it moved, the metal straining with its own weight. Two fierce weapons emerged from where the eye sockets should be. Sasha's eyes widened. She had seen those before. No…

A huge roar ripped the air. A yellow all of electricity was shot from the robot's left eye. The angels scattered, the projectile exploding into reaching yellow arms in the spot where the group had been mere heartbeats before. Caden shot towards the robot. He was immediately struck by one of the yellow tendrils. He yelped, and the remains of the energy gun disappeared. Caden collapsed. Jack flapped his red wings, half running-half flying to reach his fallen friend. The monster turned, its left eye firing up for another shot.

"No!"

Paul jumped between them, raising Shane's blaster and firing. A small rocket shot into the thing's eye. After a few seconds, the missile exploded, knocking the monster backwards. It was now boiling, and becoming hard to breath. Sasha appeared next to the group, followed by Cybernoid.

Standard! Punch a hole in the dome before it reboots!

On it!

Flapping up to the dome, Jack slammed his fish into the metal. It dented slightly. It wasn't much, but it fueled Standard. Down below, the monster slowly got back up as Pawn regained consciousness. The monster shot another blast, and everyone dodged. It turned to Standard punching a hole in the roof, but Cybernoid made his armor explode in light, successfully attracting the robot's attention. It leaped forward, and Cybernoid was swept out of the way milliseconds before he was crushed. Standard carried him over to Sasha and landed.

I've punched a hole, but there's only enough room for one of us to go at a time.

Sasha nodded.

Caden, you go first. We'll keep the robot's attention while you escape. Cyber, you go next, then Target. Standard next, and I'll go last. Cybernoid, Target, Standard! Gamma distraction move!

The four others nodded. Caden soared up to the three-foot wide hole and stuck his arms through. The other four formed a square around the robot as Pulse wriggled his shoulders out. Target made the first move. With a skilled spin, he jumped and twisted, using his wings to balance him without actually using them to fly. He drew a long and wicked-looking katana, slicing through the metal like butter before planting both feet on the robot's side and rocketing into a backward flip and landing on his feet when he had been seconds before. A large gash was where the rib cage would be on an animal, and the inside was flashing and crackling with broken wire and electric pulses with nowhere to go. Pulse yanked his wings out, losing a couple of feathers on the way, and emerged on top, under the night sky. He sent a wordless mental confirmation to everyone.

Cybernoid, now you. Sasha said.

Shane nodded, soaring up to the hold, his battle armor glowing blue. Metal sprang from nowhere and wrapped his hand in an iron fist. He put is hand out, and felt Pulse grab it to help him. The three remaining angels repositioned themselves into a triangle. It was Standard's turn now. He charged forward, taking a huge jump. He slammed his fist into the monster's other side. It leaned alarmingly to the side, almost collapsing on top of Target. Whether it was fortunately or unfortunately, the thing regained its balance by the time Standard had returned to his spot.

He's out. Target, now you.

Target nodded and ascended towards the hole. Standard and Whiplash shifted, so the robot was between them. It was now Sasha's turn.

Hey Target! Throw me a bone here! Sasha thought to him.

A small katana about the size of Whiplash's arm was thrown down. Sasha caught it, and shot off. She ran in circles around the monster, growing closer with each lap. When she was close enough, she stuck out the katana and cut the thing the whole way around multiple times before returning to her place. The metal groaned, and then toppled over, the feet sliced clean from the legs.

Target's almost through. You next. Sasha said.

Target got through in the next minute. Jack flapped lazily up, tailed by Sasha. Suddenly, Sasha had an impending sense of unease. She cocked her head. What was going on? Then, abruptly, she knew.

"No!" she screamed, both verbally and mentally. She threw herself in front of Jack. The cannonball hit her hard. Her mouth opened in a scream. He wings went limp, and she plummeted.

Sasha!

Jack flew don to her, too late to keep her from hitting the ground. He landed beside her. Magman's goons were re-entering, armed with some sort of new gun.

Come on! Jack said. We need to get out.

Then go!

What?! No! I'll bring you out—

Don't be stupid. There's only enough room for one of us to go, and I can't fly.

I can—

Go!

But—

NOW!

Sasha reached up and dragged her fingernails across Jack's arm. His eyes momentarily filled with tears, and then he alighted, soaring up and through the gap. He just managed to get away before another electric ball tagged him. He landed, and all four of them stared down in horror.

I'm sorry.

Their leader's words echoed in their heads. Then, they heard a terrible ripping sound and the bubbling of thick liquid. No words passed between them as their leader's mind disappeared from their mental pentagon. Then, with the same mind, the all thought the same thing to each other in unison.

She's gone.

Then, with minds so numb that their wings operated themselves and teamed up with the subconscious part of their brains, the now four friends flew into the night.

TO BE CONTINUED…


Finally. She was done with the 10th book. She hadn't exactly decided what was going to happen in the 11th, but hey, she wasn't pressed for time. It wasn't like she had a due date or anything. And just in time, too. She thought as the lunch bell rang. She hadn't taken any notes, and didn't remember a thing, or even what the class had been on. She grabbed her blank notebook and unused pen, trotting into the hall. She put her stuff in her locker, and went to the cafeteria. Her four friends were waiting for her. She got herself some food and sat down at her usual place at the head of the table. James was at her right hand, Peter was at her left, Sam was on the other side of James and C.D was on the other side of Peter. When she had started AngelForce, she had modeled the characters after her and her friends. Ana, like Sasha, was the ringleader in their little group. James, like Jack, was her second. Peter, like Paul, came in third, while Sam, like Shane, was fourth. C.D, like Caden, was lowest, the omega. C.D usually received the brunt of a whole lot of pranks, and Peter was immensely fond of picking on him. While Ana had modeled the characters after her little group, she hadn't named them the name, not wanting to be narcissistic. They were the only ones that knew about her series, but Ana had never let them actually read it. Ana was very self-conscious, and wouldn't let anyone read any of her comic, let alone Angelforce: the Loss yet, with which she wasn't even done. She still had a ways to go color-wise. She needed to go all the way back with her marker set, and do every single panel by hand. She had never even let her parents see her comics, but anyone who happened upon them would be impressed with the quality. Ana was very good at drawing.

The lunch passed uneventfully. Ana had a hamburger and some chocolate milk, feeling very grateful that her meal wasn't the usual slop, and being very thankful that they had a new lunch lady who seemed very good at her job. They finished their lunch, and before they left for their other classes, Ana had Sam promise to capture all of the cases on videotape. Not like she should have had to ask. He always did that, so they could all laze away class hours and then rerun the session on their special website. Ana trotted of to class (chemistry, ugh!), wondering what she would do. Would she brainstorm on her next graphic novel? Do some random drawings of her characters? Draw some scenes that filled up the whole page? As she sat down, she just couldn't decide what to do, but the last thing on her list was to pay attention in class. Her hand suddenly took on a life of its own, pulling out some paper and a pencil. She tried to stop, to try and put then back, but her hand merely stopped activity. Ana considered for a moment, and then let her subconscious take over. Her hand soared across the page, forming the base for a head that filled the entire paper. She formed the face, erasing the structure lines. She just kept drawing. Her pencil formed a face so beautiful hat it should have belonged to an angel. She put her pencil away and took out her markers, continuing. His skin was a light peach, as if he had hardly been outside in his entire life. His hair was an enchanting sandy blonde. His eyes were a clear blue, unfocused and staring into the distance. He was wearing a sweater, though only the neck showed. It was turtleneck, a deep blue with sky blue stripes, and it totally complimented his face. As a last touch, she put the markers away and pulled out her rarely-used colored pencils, that were only active in sketches. She hadn't used them for four years. With the yellow and golden, Ana drew a magnificent and hazy background that could have been sunrise or sunset. Ana looked at her work, finished. Her eyes widened.

Wait… what—no, who— did I just draw?

He was absolutely the most handsome guy Ana had ever set eyes on. She had draw him in a… romantic light? What the hell was wrong with her? She had never seen this guy in her life. A bit shell-shocked, Ana stuffed the picture into the farthest reaches of her backpack. She took out some more paper and another pencil, planning on drawing Sasha to get her mind off things. After twenty minutes, she looked at her drawing, and almost had a heartattack. It was the same guy, but this time a whole body. He was facing her, his posture relaxed, one knee locked while the other was bent, in a position that Ana was in frequently when she needed to rest but could not sit down.

For the rest of the day, Ana passed from class to class like a zombie, desperately trying to get the strange guy out of her head. And she just kept drawing him over and over. But in her last class before the day went out, Ana drew her most startling picture. When the bell rang, she walked out, the last one through the door with her teacher looking at her in concern. She was holding her picture last picture as far away from her as possible with only two fingers, as if it was toxic, and yet she felt afraid to let go. They were sparkling white, with red and gold sunset highlights from the sunset-mountain background. He was smiling, the only picture where he wasn't staring vaguely into the great beyond. But the smile wasn't what scared her. It was his two other limbs. This guy, this piece of imagination that just demanded to be let out, had wings.


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