Disclaimers of a Teenaged Author: I do not own Kim Possible, or any related media. I do, however, own any original characters that actually are originals and not cameos from other series. Cameos of other series are the ownership of their respective series and related media. And even if it'd be awesome if I did own any related media of Kim Possible or any aforementioned series, I'd probably just foul it up, so let's be glad that I stick to fanfic writing, eh? The shippers, oh god, the shippers... and shipping wars...

Enjoy the story. If it isn't your cup of tea, fair enough. I'd just recommend you to [insert your-cup-of-tea here].






Chapter 1: Legacy of an Era

Sometime in the future... At least several centuries (2500 (human) Common Era)

Dorothy Lipski wearily pushed through the heavy door, and once inside rubbed her recently burnt arm; she'd already bandaged it up, but she didn't have a chance to do anything further, so she injected some of the Covalence medical injections she had on-hand, grunting as she pulled the needle out of her shoulder. She was annoyed that the magic missile that had hit her there was able to cut through the grey with blue accent composite armor she was wearing, never mind bypassing her kinetic barrier. Jeez, and it's not even civilian stuff I'm using; it's modern military surplus!

She looked around as she craned her neck to get a better look at the tall shelves in the darkened room. The place looked like a giant archive; Exactly what it said on the tin, indeed. she decided as she saw volume after volume of dusty tomes. They weren't kidding when they said galactic history was stored here... What surprised her however was the primitive storage medium; almost all of it was in paper. She knew paper had been used for hundreds of years and still was for hard copies, but she wasn't expecting this. She pulled out her flashlight; it was an old relic of the 2010's at this point, but it was always useful to have something that couldn't be disrupted baring a direct attack, and given what she had to bypass to get here, she wasn't wrong in that regard.

She heard something slide with a rattle in the darkness, getting louder as it came closer. She instinctively activated her energy gauntlets which began to glow with the distinct cyan color that most human-made power gauntlets did and held her hands up in a basic combat stance, ready to fight out of instinct. She would of drawn her heavy pistol if she thought she had time to do so. Wait, anti-magic and anti-tech jamming is in effect here. The gauntlets shouldn't even work! She would of hit her forehead in embarrassment if she wasn't expecting an attack.

A shadow slid across the bookcases on the right wall, a ladder's silhouette visible in the shadow. She held the stance, quickly blowing a shred of blond hair out of her face as it slid over her eye. The ladder stopped with a dull scraping noise, and low teal lights turned on from a series of crystals set like shelves. The light revealed the figure: he was short, standing about up to her ribcage in height, and his floppy ears hung to the side. He had a certain mole-ish appearance with his thin brown fur giving him a felt-like appearance, and his hands had finely trimmed claws in between his three fingers, his opposable thumbs helping him grip the ladder. "Turn those toys off," he said derisively, his voice like gravel grinding in a pit, "You know you don't stand a chance if push came to shove."

"Can't blame a gal for being careful, considering your welcoming committee out there." She turned the gauntlets off as she gestured back with her thumb, realizing he probably could of easily nullified her with the Archive's defenses.

"You terrans are determined; most of the other members of the Archeological Society would of turned back had they come alone; in fact, many would not of dared."

"Humans;" she corrected in an irritated tone despite the term Terran having a more badass ring to it, "As for daring, well, consider that I dig through abandoned colonies and military outposts, places that tend to be booby-trapped by survivors. If a dig isn't long and boring, it's a bit too exciting."

"Hrrmpf. Yes," he said, "Well, you know my title, and you shall refer to me as such, Dorothy Lipski."

"Of course, Archivist." She answered, keeping her tone respectful, even if she had a distaste for the man, he was the current Archivist. She was well aware of his position and the benefits he had from it, including a longer lifespan and advanced powers. He gave a curt nod, then shrugged, sliding down the ladder and landing on the soft stone floor with a dull thunk.

"So, what does a terran member of the Archeological Society want?" he asked, dusting his hands off and putting them on his hips, "You understand that, while we share the goal of preserving history and ensuring it is never forgotten, I cannot open my doors to all. This is an archive truer than any in the galaxy. Here is where the universe itself keeps history stored; the tales of those long since passed, no matter how insignificant they were in the grand scheme of things, all stored here. This is something that would be abused by many and thus cannot be so freely shared."

"I understand," she responded, "but I came here for answers. On a more personal level. Seriously."

"Questioning the terran place in the galaxy, I take it."

"Sorta. They keep saying that even though I have one of Kim Possible's enemies for an ancestor, that it doesn't mean anything. I really don't get why it'd matter either way; it's almost like they're teasing me about it."

The Archivist snorted, sarcasm practically pouring from his voice, "Possible? I'll admit, she was an amazing woman, but they blow her exploits far out of proportion. And by they, I mean terrans, especially your cultural engineers. To listen to some, you would think she was the second coming of... what's the figure you terrans all revere religiously..." he walked to one of the databases and typed something in; "Ah yes, 'Christ'... or was that M..."

"Alright, that's exaggeration," she said to cut his rant off before it got really awkweird, "They were heroic, yes, but you're aware that even the most insane of zealots avoided that bucket loada C4."

"Hrmpf, you terrans never did organize your religion effectively. No wonder you never really united before you got your uplift..." the Archivist continued, unabated by the interruption. He gestured her along, and they began to walk down through the limitless halls; so large that even with a thousand scholars and a thousand centuries it was unlikely it could all be categorized or even comprehended in a coherent and researchable manner. The awe inspiring sight sent a chill down here spine as she began to feel a perspective of just how small anyone was in history.

"We uplifted ourselves; seriously." Dorothy answered as she realized just what he was implying, insulted that he was suggesting that humanity didn't earn its place in the stars like everyone else did. A 3-foot tall, pink-skinned creature with buck teeth and blue chest armor not unlike her own composite armor with a blue watch-like device on his left wrist walked by, placing a book into its place in the archive. She frowned as she looked at it, before having her attention drawn back to the Archivist.

"Oh really?" he said, snorting, "For a ranking member of the Archeological Society, you certainly are blind of historical accuracy, but I suppose the victors write history. Come, Dorothy, I'll show you the truth of the terran's greatest heroine and hero, the commonly agreed-upon cause of the Terran Era; a feat they earned with blood, sweat, and tears, but it is a feat they shared with others. Many others who made most of the actual scientific and magical advances. They did ensure many of the advances were made, but they made none of them themselves, they only ensured they survived."

He opened a vault deep inside. She almost wet herself as she realized just what it was. The thick, grey shelves were all lined with very similar steel grey bound books. She didn't have any powers of her own, but she could just feel the immense power of just what those books were. There was a gloom cast by the imposing shelves. Awestruck, she looked at the Archivist, and he said, "Few terrans have looked upon this vault... the last to do so were..."

"Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable." she said automatically, remembering the history text she'd read on their adventures.

"Actually, no, while they did visit, they weren't the last to do so, the last was one was my predecessor Archivists. You can thank them for the welcoming committee that was outside, considering that you terrans somehow found out about this despite oaths sworn to maintain the secret."

"They didn't exploit a loophole, if that's what you think." she retorted, still in awe.

"I know they did not. But a few good souls does not make a race worthy of a ranking place in the galaxy, if that indeed is your argument."

"It isn't, but we earned our place as a species, you know that. Kim and Ron are figures we could identify with proudly, like anyone would someone that good in their own ranks." She responded as they walked down the vault's massive hall. She could swear that it was far bigger on the inside than the outside as they walked by huge shelves. She was curiously eying the many books, all written in the same unintelligible dialect; a vast contrast to the extreme differences of dialects in the previous halls.

"You hail them as saints who could do no wrong," the Archivist continued, as if the subject was thorny to him, "Proof that your race earned its place as a whole. You watch too many movies and documentaries written by terrans."

"And written by others, not just humans." She was getting irritated now; he was blowing things far out of proportions, They weren't saints damn it; good people? Seriously hell yes! Saints? No. Even religious folks avoided that powder keg. Fanatics who make most crazy of zealots look sane, on the other hand... well, that's why we shun.

"Touché, but my opinion stands. Just because I archive the whole of history does not mean I am free of opinion. It is when it interferes in history's record that I must be free of it." He stopped and snapped his fingers, a ladder materializing, faint lines glowing along where the base of the ladder was planted, creating a monorail like line. He climbed up to pull a single text out, then asked: "You have a question, don't you?"

"Yes, I do. Why do you call us 'terrans', seriously? I know our era is called the 'Terran Era' and our main government is called the Terran Federation; but come on, that was just because we needed something neutral to keep people together while we ironed out what to do back then." She really wanted to know why he used 'terran' extensively; most only used it to identify Terran Federation vessels and personnel once the proper terminology was ironed out.

"That is true," the Archivist said as he pulled a second text and held both under his arm, one atop the other, almost reverently as he climbed down the ladder, "I know many of my kin use human as well, but terran is the word I chose. I trust it is not a complication."

"Not at all," she answered, "It just seems like you throw it like an derogatory, seriously."

"Well, perhaps hearing from the woman that your people hold so reverently, as she lived her existence, will educate you on the truth. She was hardly the paragon of righteousness you terrans like to uphold her to be, but I would be betraying my duties to say she was not a damn heroic woman who deserved the good reputation she had. You probably heard about a few... 'white lies' involving her. She was a mortal, like you and I, and thus had her flaws." He paused, placing the first book on a pedestal, the second on another, "'We can do anything', properly coined by one Felix Renton at his 'High School' graduation in reference to Kim Possible as being a reminder that humans can do such. This event happened the same night that humanity had its first proper encounter with the galaxy at large, engaging a pair of lorwardian hunters whom acted independently of their government, and were not prepared for multiple defenders of power to rise up and challenge them. The phrase "We can do anything" has long since become, as terran popular culture says, your species-wide 'hat'. I can understand why given your versatility and adaptability, your uncanny knack to be able to work with basics to match superior technology and higher magics."

He took a breath as he turned to look at her directly, hands on his hips again, "Your ability to fight and live even when high technology and high magic are denied to you is generally unmatched. Your race has proven capable of using both technology and magic, yet terran society is not inherently bound to either, most notable in the typical terran military doctrine. It is easy to understand why this adaptability quietly scared the proverbial feces out of Alliance leadership at the time when you first made proper contact. Between the reverse engineering of lorwardian technology and the ability close the gap with Alliance powers in a short period of time, we had good reason to be worried of what would happen if you were not checked." He closed his eyes a moment, quietly incanting something that her translator didn't pick up, then opened them as the two books glowed on the pedestal. He continued as he stepped away. She watched him walk around, accessing one of the holoplayers she saw earlier, texts materializing above as he entered in codes to the player's controls.

"But to be able to do anything? That includes many things, including the most despicable; shall I name some? You can cheat, you can lie, you can murder, you can betray those who helped you out of the goodness of their hearts, your bowels posthumously empty." He inhaled sharply, taking a momentary break from his rant, turning his head to look at her, his ears flopping as he did so. "You are far from perfect, despite what this phrase would imply. This pseudo-motto is a double-edged blade, and terrans walk that line finely, if the ratio of terran civil wars and splits in comparison to other species implies anything. It is a strength, as your adaptability has allowed you to thrive and you have faced consistent adversity, I will not deny it, but conversely, this versatility it is your weakness." He paused, waiting for her to make a counterpoint. When none came (she knew this philosophical argument inside out), he continued; "It can make you among the best if it truly is an honest soul, but more often than not it goes the other way. I will not say that the same cannot be said of other species, other members of the galaxy, now and in the past, but it is most noticeable in you terrans."

"Maybe, but it's not like you can say anyone else wasn't as screwed up as we were. Sure, we were inclined to fight each other, but hey, we're all sentient, it happens." she gestured with her arms before dropping them dully to end the point. "Considering our first real global unity came through a war, you could say we iron things out with blood;" she curled her lip as she remembered her 19th century history classes; "and iron."

"Indeed, something everyone is tragically familiar with," the Archivist answered with a faint smile as he gathered up the texts he'd pulled from the Archive, "I'm guessing that is where you started wondering things about those two, that conflict?" he gestured down at the two books on the pedestal.

"Sort of; I mean, it was a steady trend for me to start questioning history. It began when I found a contemporary text on 'em, when we were doing some excavations in Old Sanctuary. It wasn't a pleasant read, considering the author was a Dominion loyalist who survived the war. Seriously, some of the things in there weren't nice."

"He was, by affiliation, hostile to Kim and Ron," the Archivist dismissively said as he raised a hand, a table floating down from the abyssal ceiling above, "His opinion is likely to be slanted."

"Maybe. But the thing is." She paused a moment as her voice failed, she swallowed, "The thing is that some of the things he said were true..."

"Perhaps, but how do you see them? The actions of theirs that he called out?" the Archivist asked as he placed the documents he gathered onto the table carefully, then walked over and opened the first book he had placed on the pedestal. He looked at her as she was confused by the question, then said, "Now then, young Lipski; you know exactly what you're looking at, you've studied long and well; if not for your recovery of one to this Archive, I would of aimed to bar your passage."

"A Liber Memoriarum," she said, nodding, "Still thought to be a rumor by most people, despite how many have been recovered... living memories that've been pretty much enshrined for history to remember, sort of like autobiographies, but much deeper. They keep updating themselves right up until the person they're about passes away, then a conclusion is written out. They're usually here in the Archive, but occasionally wind up scattered to the outside galaxy by accident. Black marketers and those who don't like us try to keep them from the Archeological Society and use them for personal gain, not that they really can, given their sealant nature." And they're handily nigh-indestructible, and impossible to fashion into any form of armor. They're books, and they stay books for eternity. Like it's something the universe itself wants to maintain... she then considered the off-the-scale power of the Archive itself.

"Good recall." the Archivist continued, breaking her thoughts off, "Now, this pedestal has been attuned, and will allow you to hear the story without the usual roulette of issues involved with the Liber Memoriarum being used. You will hear it in the words of the terran's greatest heroine and you will also hear the story from the terran's greatest hero: Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable, respectively. You will also be able to hear from others of the age, see documents of the time, but these two are just who you're looking into, I think." He simply gestured, "You're move, Miss Lipski."

She paused, looking down at the first tome; looking at it; she stepped onto the pedestal's small platform. She laid a hand on the sigil before the book which glowed, blinding her in white light. She listened as she was temporarily deafened... she could hear buzzing, and finally, she could hear someone talking.

She recognized the voice immediately; she'd heard it in several of the digs in remote areas, old bases, research labs, even colonial archives with intact audio records.


"After what happened at graduation, it wasn't hard to say that the era had changed. I mean, sure, we survived an alien invasion... but the world was hurting hard; the lorwardian walkers had done a lot of damage, and not everything had recovered from the EMP beforehand; it was amazing we got what we did out there. We figured the world would recover, as it always did; Lil Diablo's havoc wasn't long in fixing, despite the global effect... we were wrong. So wrong. It would take a long time to recover..."

"There was some good news, though even then it was bad news: all sorts of other heroes got a chance to work together like they never had before, and a lot more than even I thought there were. Bad news: this also meant that the villains had a one-up over us, they'd been conventioning for a long time, despite the real foes they face being in somewhat local areas or unknown. I was one of the few heroes out there who actually got global attention, something a lot of heroes and even just normal people who happened to have powers or some such let happen to take attention off of themselves. After the walkers though, things changed. Supers started appearing where previously they'd been not so known; things got weird..."


July 8th, 2007 Common Era

Somewhere in Nevada, USA

Kimberly Anne Possible ducked as the blast flew over her head from the grain silo they were trying to get into, "Ron!" she shouted, "Watch it!"

"Got it KP!" Ron shouted back, "Running!" Several blue energy blasts followed him, putting small, smoking scorch marks into the ground behind him; he was putting his mad-running away skills to the test as he ran through the courtyard. Rufus was unaccounted for.

Beep-beep be-beep; her wrist Kimmunicator went off; she answered, staying behind cover, "What's the sitch Wade? Ron needs some help!"

"I know," Wade said from his makeshift mission control; a single computer in his hastily fixed house, in addition to the monitor he was watching her on, "But I'm detecting the Pan-Dimensional Vortex Inducer's signature inside the silo; you need to get in there now, before these guys accidently activate it."

"How many times does it get stolen?" Kim asked before glancing over; ducking as one of the guards sent a pulse from his rifle at her. Wade didn't answer; he knew the when she was asking a rhetorical question after four years. She leapt over the cover, using a handspring to avoid another guard advancing on her with a pair of PBD Electro-Gauntlets. Someone had to reverse engineer the shock-staves Drakken gave his mooks... Kim thought as she landed on his head, using him as a ledge to leapt up over, and she drew her grappling hook and aiming it at the catwalk where a guard was taking shots at Ron with terrible aim... or Ron was just that good at dodging. Hoping for the latter as her hook caught and she swung under, pushing herself off the silo as her feet reached it and she released the grappling hook, kicking the guard in the back and sending him over. Few more of these guys left, she thought, sprinting to the next one, who had noticed his partner fall and was turning to fire at her with his GJA-13 energy rifle. His first shot would of hit her in the stomach if he hadn't slipped on the wet metal as he rapidly turned. Kim wasn't going to count on the coincidence of rain the night before again; she leapt up and caught on the next floor of catwalk's bars, using it to swing to the next, causing his aim to miss. He aimed ahead, finally, but Kim just dropped, rolling forward to keep her momentum, and came out of it with a handspring, which resulting in her boot getting right into the man's face, knocking him into the rails and sending his rifle away.

"Ow..." the guard said, glancing at the soaring away energy rifle.

"I know this sounds lame, but guns are so uncivilized." She grabbed him by the vest, flipping him over, and slammed him back-first into the catwalk. She finished by punching him in the face, hard enough to knock him out cold and sending one of his teeth bloodily out of its place. (As well as causing her hand to hurt briefly, but she was used to that after four years.) She was about to move on to the next guard firing when she heard Ron scream; he had been hit by one of the guards who evidently was wielding a sniper rifle from somewhere. Kim tapped the Kimmunicator, getting the guard's location from Wade's GPS scan and spotted him at the top of the silo... where the Pan-Dimensional Vortex Inducer was. Ron wasn't getting up...

She aimed the next grapple in her grappling hook to one of the connecting tubes to the silo. It caught and she used it to reel her to the top. The sniper had spotted her and took a shot, but the motor in the grappling hook was too strong and pulled her past the energy round. It pulled her up quickly and she released it as she reached the top, swerving to the side as another round sped past her, just missing and taking some of her hair with it, a faint odor of singed hair reaching her nostrils. She slid forward, tripping the sniper up and sending his rifle over the edge and knocking him over while the sniper's spotter moved up with a jackknife. Kim kicked the weapon away with one well-placed strike and punched the spotter in the gut, then threw her off the silo and into a catwalk below. A crunch followed.

The sniper had recovered and had pulled out a knife as well, taking a swipe at her. Kim leapt over and pushed herself off the man's shoulders, landing behind him. He had already turned around and bringing the knife to bear, this time making a forward stroke. The knife slashed along Kim's ribcage, but because she was ducking backwards it was only a shallow cut, but still a cut, and it hurt, even with her tolerance for pain. The sniper continued the assault, aiming high and low, trying to force Kim off the roof. She let him; dropping down and landed on a support beam, before jumping to another and climbing back on. The sniper moved up, but did not commit; He's stalling! she realized as she heard shouting from the other guards that she hadn't neutralized. She rushed forward, grabbing the sniper's knife-wielding wrist and snapping the weapon away, despite the knife slashing along her arm in the process; Not too deep; worry about it later! she thought as she kneed the sniper in the crotch and threw him to the walkway up to the silo roof, into a pair of guards. She ran to a hatch, pulling it open and leaping inside...

She landed on grain, and in the center was the Pan-Dimensional Vortex Inducer, primed to activate. She pulled herself through the grain, and grabbed it, making sure it was off... but the hatch opened, and she had no fast way out before they could get a rifle burst, or worse, a grenade inside...

"Hi!" said a squeaky-cute voice, and Kim looked to the side; Rufus the naked mole rat was manning a control, and he pulled the lever. As she heard the distinct burst of the pulse rifles used, the grain silo quickly emptied, taking her with it. Blue bursts hit the grain, burning it, but the hadn't managed to hit her... yet.

Suddenly she was sent tumbling down, and landed face first on the hard ground... with a pair of guards pointing their energy rifles at her; energy bayonets attached.

"You lose, Possible," the first one said, clad in full blue Kevlar armor and his eyes masked by the black goggles connected to standard-issue PBD helmets.

"Really?" Kim asked, sliding her legs around and tripping the two guards... only to receive a stab wound to the knee as the two guards stabbed downward, one of which stuck and came off the bayonet mount. She inhaled sharply, pained gasps escaping her lips as she finished the move, one of her legs pinned by the energy bayonet's stun charge. Pain shot through her leg and head as shock set in, clouding her vision; a wintery cold settling into her spine. She pulled the smoking energy bayonet out of her leg, the two centimeters of penetration quickly coming out, but with extreme pain. She pushed herself up, forcing herself to forget the pain, but she couldn't run at full speed, running with a limp as she rushed for the extraction point... she didn't have time to get to Ron before the rest of the guards closed in on her... she knew it took more than one hit to knock Ron out anyways. Right? she thought as her leg nearly gave out as a GJ hovercraft, armed to the teeth with heavy weaponry (which was unloading it's ammunition steadily in a suppressive firing wall of tear gas rockets and energy rounds) came down... two soldiers, GJ operatives, were inside and pulled her into the helicopter. Rufus had ran up and leapt in, and the helicopter took off. Kim fainted...


... only to wake up as the simulation ended; her body was perfectly normal, no wounds and the chill had left her spine, the pain ceasing as her body realized it wasn't actually in danger. That's gotta screw my nervous system up, Kim mused briefly as she pulled the helmet that connected her to the simulation off, especially when she began considering how deeply it was supposed to immerse the person into the simulation. Ron was already standing, evidently they cut the simulator early as he was downed early.

"Nice melee, KP." Ron said, gesturing over to the spotter, who was rubbing the back of her head, "And they said you couldn't handle military-grade sniper rifles. I couldn't, heh."

"Well," Wade said, walking in from the control room with a technician next to him, where they were doing mission control for both sides, "I'm just glad the sims aren't broken; Shadow-Training wasn't something I wanted to lose. Surprised GJ didn't get the tech first."

"No budget," said the technician, who was doing a checklist, "We spent a lot of it on anti-villain countermeasures, and in 05 we put in stuff to our 'Ron Factor' research... Alright... Safeguard; you successfully tagged one of two enemies, good job there, but you failed to prevent the theft of the device and although you mortally wounded the second intruder, she made it to the evacuation location. You suffered a 30% casualty rate fatally, with the rest wounded, mostly bruises in that case."

"Who're the fatals?" asked the Sniper.

"Your spotter; she hit the catwalk and bounced on down and off the railing, the perimeter guards got fatalities too..."

Kim threw Ron a dirty look, and he simply said, "Hey, I wasn't the one who slammed them into a barbed wire fence."

"I only threw them into the fence part."

"It was full barb wire; designed to seem normal." said one of the two super-buff guards that they had beaten when they started the simulation. "Beats me why someone would do that."

"You said it John," said the other, "Gotta admit, that's a sucky way to get iced, eh?"

"Tell me about it, Tim."

"Ahem." The technician said to get their attention, "There were also a couple catwalk mounted riflemen who were killed by falls," he looked at Kim, "To be fair, they weren't your direct actions; it was side effects of sending others down the catwalks. And knocking the sniper's jackknife out of his hands."

One of the women who had been downed like that gave Kim a look, putting her fist to her chest and letting her tongue loll out, before winking... or at least, Kim thought it was a wink.

"The rest were KO's or weren't taken down," the technician finished, "To be fair, it went about as expected, except for the fatality parts on Project Safeguard."

Ron gave a little shrug; "To be fair, Kim knew it was a sim, or they probably would of gotten her trying to get me out of there."

Rufus, who was sitting on Ron's lap, gave a little "D'awww".

"Well, we were supposed to be faking villains along Shego's line of work," Kim countered, "So I had to play it cool and not do that. If it wasn't a simulation, well... things would of been a lot bloodier."

Wade glanced at the technician, who coughed into his glove, "Anyways; you'd best all head down to the med bay, make sure the simulation did not do any damage to your nervous systems. I'm still not sure it's completely safe."


1 Hour Later...

PBD Firebase Alternate-3, Nevada Desert

Kim clinked the small glass with Ron and Wade, and the three drank down the water; none of them were old enough for any other drinks at the firebase. Rufus was snacking down on the bag of chips they'd bought from the rec room's vending machine. Other PBD soldiers were chuckling, describing how the simulation went, or just chatting about recent events.

"Well, that went well; I think Safeguard's a go." Kim said afterwards, putting her glass down.

"Bit unusual seeing really good GJ operatives," Ron commented, "I mean, consider Will Du; he was their top agent."

"Marksmen need work though," Kim commented, "You'd think they graduated from the HenchCo Academy of Villainous Marksmanship. Except for the sniper."

"Ex-Marine." Wade explained, "Had to hand in the Semper Fi since Safeguard is a GJ, and that means it's a UN operation."

"Explains why we never see GJ agents handling threats the army usually is involved with." Kim remarked, thinking of the US soldiers in Iraq, "They leave it to the CIA and all those guys."

"Yeah," Ron commented, frowning, "Almost feels like we're in a different world."

They all paused; Kim seriously considered the thought for a minute... then they all laughed. "Different world? What is this, some kid's fan story?"

"Nah," Wade said, chuckling, "Just some crazy conspiracy theory about a plot to keep super-powered stuff from intervening in day-to-day activities."



UN Meeting Hall

New York City, USA

Brigadier General Adrian Malta, formerly of the United States Military and now a general of the Power Busters Division, inhaled as he went through his speech again, remembering the key points of his proposition; Threat all the supers have, the need to get a lid on it before we have a comic book world on our hands, and the original plan to keep a lid went straight to the devil.

"General; the Security Council is ready." said one of the guards.

"Thank you," he said, before opening the door. The meeting had been extended to others; he noted a number of additional members were sitting nearby; because the original Project Global Containment had been a many-nation effort, meetings involving it included the representatives many nations involved. He entered and nodded, greeting each member politely, before moving to the floor.

"Gentlemen, ladies," he said, inclining his head, "Thank you for hearing my case about the need to renovate Global Containment in response to recent events." He inhaled; here was where it was going to be ugly if the politicians didn't listen to him, "Unfortunately, as you're aware, the plan to ensure both heroically inclined and anarchically inclined 'supers' into GJ and WWEE and ensuring they had defective support by using agents in "HenchCo", while simultaneously keeping them occupied with each other as to prevent it from spilling into the world at large, has failed despite our best efforts. While certainly the actions of the teen hero Kim Possible managed to keep supers from revealing themselves properly by giving the media something to focus on, without revealing our projects to contain such and maintaining the masquerade, events have had far too many close calls." He began to pace a little, but only taking a step to the side to readjust himself.

"The media has gained reliable information on the existence of various individuals with abilities that this council has defined as, to use the current nomenclature, 'super'. Our previous efforts failed but had not failed to a degree that had risked the world. Unfortunately, because of the recent reveal of many super-powered individuals, many whom had previously remained hidden, especially those with malicious intent, have begun small conflicts across the globe. PBD, Power Buster Division, our initial attempt at a superpower busting strike force has fared poorly, and is insufficient to ensure that supers are contained or that our research into these metahuman phenomena's are kept safe from said supers. The world is at risk, ladies and gentlemen. While now the supers are able to curb each other, it is only a matter of time before unofficial anarchy begins."

He heard some surprised sounds; "I understand, Mister Fredricks, that you are in possession of minor cryogenic abilities," a fact that was known by all present, as he was a proponent for the GJ/WWEE containment strategy on basis of his minor abilities after a freak lab accident near his home, "And I applaud the fact that you're willing to use them for the right purpose, and exercise control. But with the recent exposure, many children who have been subject to accidents or other sources are going to begin manifesting, especially since a number of these 'supers' have begun to start families, and these abilities, according to our research-based projections, will be passed down the family bloodline... and at a young age, they are vulnerable to their abilities misfiring, especially in schools or other public areas. Every one of these supers is a potential time bomb. Every time a super creates a doomsday device, each time they are foiled by another super, but only with seconds to spare. The world has been at risk far too many times, and we have not had a proper hand in stopping such from happening in the first place. We have enough concerns already with rebuilding the destruction caused by the recent extra-terrestrial attack while simultaneously reassuring the world that we won't have another repeat of the lack of ability to fight such. We have to, while we still possess a chance, to revitalize our strategy against the potential threat of super-powered individuals. Project Safeguard is a step in the right direction and should eventually set a new standard for PBD, but we need a much more organized and global organization." He took a breath.

"The secret of supers is held thinly; not everyone believes they're as widespread as they are, but the masquerade is failing fast. It's a short time until the secret is out undeniably, and people will be caught in these battles between those defined as 'heroes' and 'villains'. We have to have a lid on this threat before it becomes an explosive issue. I respect what the United Nations stand for, but this matter cannot be handled by letting 'heroes' such as Kim Possible handle it every time, she's a freelance wildcard, despite her good intent and desire to work for a better future, and that means she cannot always be there. In the past she could, because there were fewer rogues in the known, but now there's many more, and while many more 'heroes' rise up to face it, the world is not ready."

He exhaled, "As such, I'm purposing that, effective as soon as possible, we use what resources have already been pooled into project Global Containment and redirect it to form a registry so that we can properly track all superpowered individuals. Those who refuse to comply will be brought in on charges of, in example, treason, but the specific crime will be dictated by the country that the refusing party has citizenship. In preference, a charge of severity for non-registration. Scientists should, when the resources become available, work on methods of surprising these powers consistently without interrupting regular daily lives, such as concealed implants, again, in example. Registration would be mandatory, and when possible, to keep use of the powers, to use them in a UN or government organized capacity should be required, as determined by the UN security council as a whole for all who follow UN Mandates, while those who refuse would, while the technology for suppressing powers is unavailable, be forbidden to use the powers and would be, by law, expected not to use the powers unless absolutely necessary. In addition, a new generation of PBD answering directly to the UN Security Council, should be established to bring in renegade supers and to enforce the peace in regards to superpowered incidents, and would possess no jurisdiction outside of such or as defined by the United Nations."

He looked at each person in the room, "I understand that this is a major shift of policy, but we cannot afford to remain primarily hands-off anymore; we have to organize now while we can, and ensure that when the time comes, humanity will be able to remain stable even as these 'supers' begin to fight in the streets. We have already seen examples on local levels, but I fear it is only a matter of time until it becomes, for lack of a better word, an epidemic. Ladies, Gentlemen, as a general, I ask you to seriously consider this threat to the stability of the free world. As a father, I ask you to consider the futures of our children; if my son was a super-powered individual, I would do my best to ensure that he could still live a normal life, and enforce self-control so he could do so, but if I had to, I would do what was necessary to maintain the peace, as defined in all current articles of conduct. I'm asking that we prevent parents, friends, and fellow human beings from being forced to chose between doing what is right in two different ways. This is a grey area, I will be the first to admit it, but I have my stand on this option, and I am not alone. You have received a petition of a number of individuals in various disciplines; military, civil, corporate, and more, expressing concern over this matter. I ask that you listen to the pleas for a stronger method of containment; the time of simply using cunning guile is coming to an end, we now have to be willing to enforce the peace, and protect those who would be dragged into these conflicts, conflicts they have no interest in." He inclined his head, "Thank you for hearing me out."

"You are welcome," answered Fredricks, who was the spokesperson as far as this area of the Security Council was concerned. As Mister Fredricks was a Frenchman, General Malta had to admit he was one wily rogue, but a rogue who had the best intents in mind and obeyed the UN's mandates that he had sworn to uphold. "And thank you, General Adrian Malta, for expressing these concerns on behalf of the concerned."

My cue to leave, he knew, and inclined his head again, before being gestured out by a guard, who gave him a respectful nod.



PBD Firebase Alternate-3

Nevada Desert, Nevada, USA

Kim rolled her shoulders as she watched Ron working out in the base's gym; he'd been trying to properly tap into his abilities, but even though he was able to during the lorwardian attack at graduation, he'd had difficulty in tapping into them again. He has been a much better fighter, though, she mused as she watched him get slugged by the training dummy bouncing back after a punch to the face. She smiled and shook her head.

Beep-beep be-beep. She answered; "Hey W... oh, hey Tara."

"Hey Kim," Tara, the blond cheerleader in Middleton High, at least, until she graduated, same year as Kim did, a mere two months ago; "Wade gave me your contact info."

"Look, if this was about leaving Middleton before reconstruction fin..."

Tara laughed, interrupting her, "Don't be silly; we all knew you'd get called away. Your brothers though... they've been really doing some amazing tech work; I've never seen anyone short of Wade do that kind of work. We're still running the town on that makeshift battery they set up at Graduation. The town hasn't finished rebuilding the local power plant yet, so that's a good thing."

"Oh, good." Kim said, relieved. She hadn't told anyone about her decision to help the new PBD project, Safeguard; she wanted to avoid thoughts of betrayal, though her parents knew, since she'd been with them before she left Middleton... Not one of my brighter moves, she mused as she thought it through now, not telling them was probably worse. Besides, we need to get Ron to Japan anyways so he can get that training done. Can't really say "Sorry, gotta get Ron secret ninja training at the school we exchanged with back in sophomore year!"; the weirdness we get away with isn't infinite.

"Anyways; Monique mentioned something about college troubles; something about all the new 'supers' kicking around?"

"Oh, I forgot about that," Kim answered, "I had to admit, I'm a bit surprised there's so many."

"Well, scuttlebutt says some folks in Middleton aren't exactly happy about it. The same ones who had problems with you."

"Ugh, don't remind me of the 'restrain the freaks' movement after the Prom."

"Sorry, didn't mean to bring up memories. I just still get how they could just start wanting you in bars after saving their sorry-"

"Hey, Kim!" Ron shouted on her end, sweaty and with a mild black eye, "That Tara?"

Kim gave Ron a dirty look, before glancing down at Tara, "Yeah; well, people are like that sometimes, just like I can't turn down a person in need. Like a program, ya'know? Actually, I'm kind of glad to know there's more people out there; knocks off a lot of college worries I have; there's others willing to take a stand when I can't be there."

"I hear that; frankly, you deserve a break after all you've done."

"I'll take the chance if it comes." No strings attached, of course... "Probably see you before we head off to college, we'll be back in Middleton soon."

"See you then. Later Kim." Tara hung up.

"So," Ron asked, "Still worried about scheduling in college?"

"Yeah," she answered, leaning against the window, "I guess I got too deep into the hero-work, huh?"

"Ah, little chronic hero syndrome isn't bad. You're aware of it, that's someone most folks with it can't say. Besides... it's one of the things that makes you beautiful." Ron answered, gently putting a hand on her cheek. She smiled... then something smelly caught her attention...

"Shower first, Ron," she answered, wrinkling her nose, "I think you got one too many hits in the head."

Ron looked puzzled; then seemed to think about his romantic pass... then Rufus, who was on the floor, nodded rapidly. He shrugged, "Well buddy, guess love has its demands."

"Oh yeah, oh yeah." Rufus answered, hopping back into the pocket on Ron's football sweat pants. Kim smiled as she watched him go, smiling to herself.


Twenty Minutes Later

As they walked down the hallway, Kim glanced behind her; Wade was coming up, holding a small box...

"Kim, Ron," Wade said, "Looks like you're needed."

"Where?" Ron asked, "Geneva? Japan? Siberia?"

"Locally, actually," Wade answered, "You recall the news on a lot of 'supers' being revealed?"

"Yeah, I was one of them, remember?" Ron answered, "Though I'd always been 'known', they just thought I was a sidekick who tagged along with jack nothin' for powers."

"Well, it turns out that there's a group of mystics who've been living in seclusion nearby; before the Firebase was set up after the Graduation Attack, they protected the area and managed to drive off one of the walkers, and saved the local towns. General Simms just sent a case with a few award ribbons; he's respecting their request to remain anonymous, but he wants them to know we appreciate the aid."

"Sounds like an easy enough stich," Kim asked, frowning, "They just want a big name for it, or is there something more?"

"Actually, there is. Dementor just got his hands on a HenchCo mobile synthodrone production facility based on schematics that were 'outsourced' from Drakken after the Lil Diablo incident; we're not sure where it is, but we know it's nearby. They're sending out patrols, but for now they want you two to bring these over. Sloth's all set, but you'll have to approach on foot."

Kim nodded, taking the box from Wade, "We'll stay in contact. Tell me if anything goes south."


Thirty Minutes Later

Nevada Desert

Ron fanned his face; "Man, never get used to the heat." He took a step into the outcropping rocks... and heard a squish, Oh you're kidding me, "Ugh," he recoiled in disgust as he looked at the bottom of his shoe, "for crying out, what is this stuff, camel dung?"

"Horses probably, camels aren't native to this region." Kim answered as she looked at the literal pile of shit Ron had stepped in. The Sloth, with Wade remotely controlling it, drove back to the Firebase where it'd wait until they finished the delivery. "Come on, we're going to be out here for a while."

Ron nodded, scraping the horse droppings off of his shoe on a rock and pulling his backpack. He was carrying a dozen bottle waters in there while Kim had the small box of award ribbons along with one of Wade's new gadgets: a small 'Sentry' robot if they needed to sleep for a while in the wild. Ron wanted to see how it did, but he knew Kim would hope it wasn't necessary. I think...

They walked on, climbing through the rough terrain relatively easily. Taking a sip from the bottle he had in his hands, Ron felt Rufus bumping in his pocket as they walked on. He was used to it, but it always felt a little funny considering where the naked mole rat was near. Especially when Rufus hit in the wrong spot. Ouchie. well, least he's not a cat. They step on your balls. While you sleep!

He took a glance at Kim again as they walked on; she had a hat on, a simple baseball cap and her hair was in a ponytail to offer some protection from the heat. Wonder why all these ancient magic dudes live in remote places, I mean, come on, that's gotta make trips for groceries irritating. Especially when they forget the milk. He glanced around as Rufus stiffened, and he pulled out his grappling hook, looking around as he stopped.

"What's wrong?" Kim asked, stopping as well and forming fists.

"Thought I saw something," Ron answered as he scanned the area with narrowed eyes, "Rufus stiffened up as well."

"Doesn't he do that napping?" Kim asked, frowning as she looked around.

"Not usually."

They paused for a few more seconds before Kim shrugged, "I'm not seeing anything. Mirage?"

"Probably," Ron said as he took a sip. "Want some?"

"I'm fine for the moment," she answered, wiping a few droplets of sweat from her forehead, "Come on." She gestured, and walked forward.


"KP," Ron finally said as they reached a sheer cliff, "I'm having a hard time believing these guys came out and beat a walker off of several towns considering how far we are from any town, and rough dirt."

"They said mystics," Kim answered with a shrug as she pulled her grappling hook out, "Probably have magical methods or just have concealed passages. Come on," she was aiming for a rock above, and took the shot. The hook sailed into the air and latched into a rock; Kim pulled it experimentally, and then let it pull her up as Ron did the same, the cliff face was too large for him to use his rocket boots to soar up with.

Please don't lose your pants again... Kim thought as he aimed. Ron pulled the grappling hook...

And against all odds his pants stayed on. Relived, he quickly rappelled up, leaping up the cliff as he was pulled up. Kim was surprised he finally didn't lose his pants as he pulled himself to the top.

Suddenly, she heard a crunch in the bush, and turned, raising her hands in a combat stance. A pair of synthodrones with Dementor's markings on them marched up out of the bushes as she held the stance out of honed instinct. "That's it?" Kim asked disbelievingly, cracking her knuckles. She rushed forward, hitting the first synthodrone in the face and knocking it down before turning and kicking the other one in the chest, knocking it back as well. The first got up and tried to rush, but Kim hit it in the face again and put her arms around its neck and pulled, ripping enough of a hole for the goo within to spill out.

"Synthodrone number 842 will terminate oper..." it didn't finish as it was now a pile of goo. Kim was already finishing the second synthodrone off, hurling it off the cliff face, and then she heard a shout.

"Aw man!" Ron said as the thrown synthodrone accidently pulled at his belt. With mortifiaction, his pants fell and revealed his Everlot boxers. Rufus came out of the pants and scurried over to grab Ron's belt, bringing it back as Ron blushed, "Heh, no worries KP, it was an accident!"

"I'm sure," Kim responded with a smile as she put a hand on his cheek, and she moved closer...

"Synthodrone!" Ron shouted before Kim could finish. She ducked and turned to the side and Ron was already rushing forward. He barreled into the synthodrone, punching and kicking. They rolled into a wall-like rock and Ron had it in a corner. It kicked wildly, sending him back, but Rufus was already close and the naked mole rat bit down into the synthodrone's foot, and it melted out of that gash. "Synthodrone number 661 is terminating..."

Kim shivered; she never was used to the cold reporting every synthodrone echoed when melting down. Ron glanced up, shrugging. "So..." he asked with pursed lips, "what were you saying?"

"Oh, nothing. Come on, we have some ground to cover. Actually, toss me a water, would ya?"

Ron slipped the backpack off of his back and opened it, tossing a bottle over. Kim caught it easily and took a brief drink, avoiding putting it to her mouth before putting the cap back on and tossing it back. Ron caught it with the skills he had honed as a running back and put it back into the backpack, fully sealed. They continued on, following a rough dirt trail under the balmy Nevada sun.

As they walked, Kim looked around for more ambushes, as after the encounter with the synthodrones she wasn't taking any more chances. Five minutes later, they spotted two more synthodrones that seemed to be patrolling. One was heavily armored with the gold-colored variation that Kim recognized as Dementor's Balmung battle armor; Great, that's going to take some power to punch through, she thought, thinking back to the last time Dementor employed it for his henchmen. Alright, last time I aimed for the head or went for a groin attack from below... though those were for Dementor's goons, not drones, which means the male anatomy isn't going to help me at all... she frowned as she considered how to attack it.

"That's a new kinda drone..." Ron commented, kneeling behind the underbrush next to her, "So, what's the plan? Hit 'em quick and hard?"

"I was thinking that," she answered as she fished around her pocket and pulled out the laser lipstick Wade had given her. She smiled, "I'll need to get close though, it's not very good at range. Should drill right into the head before it can hit."

"Right," Ron said, cracking his knuckles, "I'll get the normal drone. Ready?"

"Whenever you are." Kim nodded and leapt over the bush, sprinting at the armored synthodrone, keeping the lipstick palmed so it thought she was going in for a hand-to-hand attack.

"Get her!" the drone shouted, turning and bringing its armored arms to bear, but Kim slid under and kicked it from below, getting under it's block and knocking it backwards. She slid the lipstick to a better position and jumped up, coming down with a kick and she activated the laser lipstick at point blank, melting the synthodrone's face and opening a hole for the goo to spill out, burning some of it as she burnt out the back of the drone's metallic skull. She leapt off before the arms crashed down with a thud as the drone reported it's failing in a pained monotone. Ron was blocking hits from the other drone before punching it in the face, causing it to stagger and fall after Ron applied a sturdy kick to the shin. Rufus popped out of Ron's pocket and leapt onto the downed drone, biting it in the face and tearing out one of the photoreceptors like a predator. Rufus spat it out, using his hands to pull green goo from his teeth.

"Bleh! Synthodrone!" Rufus said before coughing out some more.

"Yeah buddy. Here, wash it out," Ron pulled a bottled water out of his pack and held it low. Rufus grabbed the top and tipped it down, filling his mouth, swishing it around, and he spat it out before he hopped back into Ron's pocket.

Kim glanced at Ron before taking another, closer look at the synthodrone's armor; Definitely Dementor's handiwork. Guess he'd be the one to take Drakken's designs and upgrade them, least they aren't armed. She called Wade, "Wade, we found some new synthodrone type."

"Really? Alright, hold the Kimmunicator over it; I'll scan the wreckage and see what I can find out."

She held it over, and the built in scanner scanned; Kim moved her arm up and down over it a few times. Wade was frowning as he received the data, then said, "Can you scan any other drones you encounter? Dementor's been busy. Real busy."

"Sure thing, Wade," she answered.

"Alright; I'll start my analysis. For now, get those award ribbons to those mystics. Best not expose yourselves anymore than you have to." Wade nodded to her, and hung up.

She glanced at Ron, and shrugged, "Well, we'd better keep going."

They continued along the trail.


PBD Firebase Alternate-3

Nevada Desert, USA

Wade frowned as he looked at the schematics, Alright, I really wanna know where Dementor gets the funding to do this kind of work. I can't even do this much on the 'budget' I can get... he didn't have a full copy, however: damage done by Kim's attacks had utterly destroyed core systems located in the head. I'm going to need samples of that, Wade mused, looking at another part of the scans, the gauntlets...

"Whoa," he said, magnifying the segment. Great, one punch from those and Kim's going to be in a lot of hurt... He began taking deeper scans and started his simulation programs. A reconstruction image of the drone was shown in one corner and Kim in the opposite one. The drone activated the gauntlets and rushed her. Normally, the simulation would of ran Wade's predictor programs for Kim to maneuver and try to use her dexterity from cheerleading to avoid blows, but he override it and only had her block for the purpose of tests.

The drone slammed into her with one of its powered up fists, overpowering Kim's block and sending her into the wall literally. Wade pulled up the calculations, pausing the simulator, and started calling up all the theoretical math that was going into it...

These gauntlets were really designed with hurting people in mind, Wade thought as he pulled up some of the other schematics for gadgetry he was designing; Well, I did want to give Kim a set of combat gauntlets, he mused, smiling as the thought connected. Kim gets enough samples of the tech and I could probably make a set too. Still need more samples on that Balmung armor. I really wonder how Dementor makes it so light without making it weak. He shut down the predictor program and returned to analyzing the new drone again, looking for any weakness' besides Kim jamming laser lipstick up its mouth. Or what passes for a synthodrone's mouth, Wade drearily thought.


UN Meeting Hall

New York City, USA

Mister Fredricks nodded and gave his final say in this debate, "While I agree General Malta raised valid points, I'm not sure how to reasonably implement this in any short period of time. So, I move that we, at the moment, vote against this resolution in its full detail and rewrite it to a milder approach so we do not compromise what the UN stands for, yet still prepare for when this becomes an issue. General-Secretary?"

The General-Secretary nodded, "Those in favor of General Malta's resolutions?"

Several hands raised.

"Those in favor or his resolutions not passing?"

Most of those present raised their hands.

"Very well; the resolution has failed. Mister Fredricks, would you inform General Malta? As he's running a PBD Firebase, it's right that he knows his resolution has failed, but we are making alternative resolutions that are similar, but less intrusive."

He nodded, "I'll do so after this meeting is done."


PBD Firebase Alternate-1

Upperton, Colorado

Brigadier General Adrian Malta glanced to the left as his radio buzzed. He answered, "General Malta, Number 1138; pass code: Selena."

The radio turned on, and he answered, Mister Fredricks appearing on the small screen attached to it.

"Mister Fredricks," he said, nodding politely, "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"I have information on the resolution you wished to pass;" Fredricks began, "We are in agreement that measures are necessary in response to the recent influx of 'supers'."

He felt his heart rise; hopeful that his resolution would work.

"However, we determined that the sudden shift in policy is not the wisest course, and are going to be drafting a slower switch to similar efforts, but without using the more intrusive methods suggested. It's not to say your resolution has no merit, but it was a sudden shift in policy that we would be unable to enforce. PBD will be continuing its revitalization, however, so that when we have the new regulations in place, they can and will be enforced."

"I understand, Mister Fredricks. Thank you again for hearing me out."

"In the meantime however, the Security Council wishes you to, in your own base, work on creating a model for the next generation of PBD, much like Project Safeguard is in Alternate-3. I take it you're better foundation of recruits and proper military experience will allow the forging of a better corps."

"Thank you, sir. I laid the groundwork in preparation, but did not begin operations."

"In anticipation of your resolution working, I presume."


"Very well; I'm glad you chose to wait. I'd hate to have to send the cheerleader to take you down."

The two chuckled; he knew the threat was empty; in fact, he knew that Kim Possible was aiming to join GJ and knew that she still thought PBD was a Global Justice division. Technically she was right, PBD was nominally part of Global Justice, but they didn't fall under the authority of their leader, Dr. Director. Well, Kim's the kind of lady we need these days. Malta mused, Shame her boyfriend went meta-human on us; the two would of been a great example of why we don't need supers and a rallying point to show we can do things without 'em. Ah well, I'll take the cheerleader, especially once she's got some actual military training.

"I should return to my revitalization operations, Mister Fredricks. Thank you for calling me personally on this matter."

"You're welcome, Adrian. Also; my condolences. I'm aware tomorrow is an important day for you."

He nodded, blinking a tear away as he remembered the vivid details again. "Thank you, again. It means a lot to me."

He glanced at the picture of his wife on his desk; Important indeed, his eyes closed as he blinked a tear out of his eyes as the memories came back, it's been a year since she was killed. He remembered it vividly; a fight between one of the supers who'd come out of nowhere to try and stop the villain known as "Pyro Pete". His wife was caught in the crossfire walking home as ice and flame met. By the time the police got there with SWAT teams, Pyro had been subdued and was easy to arrest, but it was too late to save his wife from the rampage. Worse, the cryogenic "hero" had disappeared after Pete was frozen solid and with no solid enough images for an ID, he got away scot clean. The battle had caused considerable collateral damage in the sleepy town that he'd grown up in. Pyro Pete had been imprisoned for life in Cell Block D, but the justice felt hollow to him because the police, even with SWAT teams, couldn't respond to such a threat. He'd still be waiting for Pyro to break out with a full volley of fire considering other villains had regularly broken out of the facility.

That day he'd sworn that no one else would have to go through what he did because there were no regulations on powers; he was already an army general at that time and was approached by Mister Fredricks about PBD. With consent from the high-ranking US Generals aware of project Global Containment, he was transferred to PBD's USA division and based in the Upperton area. Technically speaking, he was on loan to PBD, but unofficially the transfer was effectively permanent. His division had been in shambles when he gained command of the Firebase in Upperton. He was amazed they could do anything that at all involved in stopping any super-powered threat. It did not help that he'd taken command after a cheerleader, of all people, saved the world from the Lil Diablos. NOT a team of SEALs, not a carrier group, not a Global Justice Specter operative or any form of GJ agent, not any military force of any kind, but a civilian cheerleader who hadn't even felt the complete joys of puberty yet. He'd been trying to transform his PBD base complement from a bunch of eager young kids fresh from the local high schools in awe of said cheerleader to a military force who could kill said cheerleader left (somehow) helpless and in cold blood if necessary. He figured that trying to get them into shape had shaved years off of his life from irritation alone. The number of incidents he had heard had occurred in Middleton had astounded him that these guys were nowhere to be seen in any of the said incidents except after. And more often than not the Middleton police and it's SWAT team were on it long before PBD could get involved. And even with him pushing them hard, they still had a hard time getting to issues before they were resolved and the only thing left to do was to pick up the pieces.

He shook his head to try and push the memories away. I have work to do still, takes more than a few months to really solidify them; they still have some ways to go.

He looked at the list of technology that had been extracted recently and was being issued out. Those Electro-Gauntlets ought to be useful... but come on, why aren't we using assault rifles, and instead using those silly GJA line energy rifles? Are we trying to be kid-friendly? Time's up for that, P-90's, that's where we need to be at. Still, the specs are interesting. Easily enough firepower in these gloves to punch through stone walls and protect the user's hands from side-effects of hitting someone that hard. He paused, he knew it was expected to be outfitted by his PBD, but he was uncertain if they'd be used considering his teams used old-fashioned military equipment where they could and not fancy experimental tech like the GJA's (but that he had been overridden on). Then again, he thought frowning, half of the supers we're looking at have melee abilities, and most of those have something to protect them from bullets... He pulled up the file on one of the supers that Global Justice had recently gained, unbeknownst that they were part of a what-should-of-been-expired masquerade to keep supers hidden from the world. The super in question was a normal GJ agent now operating under the codename Shieldbash. One look at his powers told the general all he needed to know. Able to create energy after exposure to some WWEE energy matrix based on salvaged alien tech, which he channels into a shield-like form with a GJ designed gadget and his punches are amplified with such, he can even shoot energy blasts. And he's a bit eager to use them on hostiles. And GJ is going to use him to keep WWEE 'contained' in the Go City area? That's just what we need, isn't it? Maybe those 'Team Go' supers can keep him in line. Or maybe Alternate-9 will have its hands full, again. And to think we didn't build that firebase until after Team Go had been affected by a 'Reverse Polarizer' whosiwhatsit thing. That hasn't been eradicated despite the very clear threat it poses.

His disgust kept rising as he read further files on supers, on both the side of GJ and WWEE; the fact that none of their supers had much in the way of restraint besides force applied by other supers was so... exposed to him, there was nothing to keep them from breaking off and escaping the masquerade.


Nevada Desert, USA

Kim looked around then glanced at the map again, "Wade said this was the place they were encountered first..." she trailed off as something suddenly happened.

A dozen men appeared, aiming bows with arrows possessing a small onyx glow at the tip of each at them. Kim recognized their dress immediately as Native American, but it'd been a long time since her history classes and they never got into an extreme amount of detail.

Ron shouted in surprise, leaping backwards, his hands flailing in the air wildly. Kim turned, and realized that another twelve men were behind them... Great; surrounded at all sides... great way to go, KP... she thought, annoyed at herself for falling for the trap, before raising her hands, open palmed. Another figure came from behind the line, carrying a spear. He eyed her, then gestured for the others to lower their weapons, saying something in one of the many languages the Native Americans had. Before old-school Uncle Sam went and screwed them all, Kim thought grimly, recalling her US History classes.

The leader eyed her again, then, in English, asked, "Why have you come?" The accent was distinct, surprising Kim however. She wondered for a split second why she was so surprised.

Ron was glancing at every one of the archers, and Kim glanced out of the corner of her eyes; each one of the archers was also carrying a tomahawk with a similar glow. Easy, keep it cool... just explain why you're here, give them the award ribbons, and leave peacefully. No need for a misunderstanding.

"I'm here on behalf of General Simms," she slowly slid her backpack off, "He and several other generals wanted to give you these;" she slowly opened the backpack, making it clear that it wasn't a hostile action, and picked out the box, opening it. "They're award ribbons, for what you did for the locals in the area. They know you wanted to remain anonymous, but they think you should at least have these."

The leader frowned, "Are those not awarded individually?"

"Usually, yes." she answered, "But we're only supposed to deliver them; you can distribute them as you would other honors within your... your..." she tried to think of the right word.

The leader smirked somewhat at her uncertainty, "Tribe." He gestured to the box, pointed down, then pretended to kick something gently, as if sending over a barrel or something.

"Right." Kim answered, feeling the heat rising in her chest. Jeez, why am I so awkward about that? She wondered for a moment what the leader was getting at with his gesture, then understood. She pushed the box over with her foot, the box stopping about one-fourth of the way.

One of the warriors threw a glance to his friend, and his friend gave a light shrug in response.

"I will never understand white man," the leader said with a mix of ruefulness, but it was also conversational in nature, "It seems you change like the wind, like seasons. In one season you work for friendship, another you hunt us and drive our culture into the ground, forcing us to remain hidden and on 'reservations', and now another season you seek to 'honor' us." Ron was just watching, likely freaked out by the ambush. The leader rose a hand as he spoke, and the box steadily, as if moved by magic, slid towards him. He picked it up and nodded, "However, I understand that you, at the very least, are honest in your intent. Thank you."

"Uh... thanks? I think..." Kim rubbed the back of her head awkwardly. The leader chuckled briefly, before asking, "Now then; is there anything else?"

"Actually; yes." Kim said, remembering the second thing Wade said the local firebase wanted, "We found that someone got their hands on a machine for churning out synthodrones, we're not sure what he's doing with them, but he has a history of causing problems. We wanted to warn you, so you weren't blindsided by it."

The leader nodded, "We saw your encounters. Do not worry about us, if your spy satellites cannot find us, then we do not have much to fear of such aberrations."

"Yeah," Ron chimed in, pushing himself up as the warriors had withdrawn their weaponry in full. "Don't think you'll have problems; pointy things really hurt them, ya'know?"

The leader's face had a brief smirk flicker across, before he looked back at Kim, "I would be cautious, Miss Possible, you're friend is a disaster waiting to happen."

"In what sense?"


"Hey!" Ron said, "I am not a diplomatic disaster waiting to..." he slipped on a rock, landing on his face, his pants (somehow) falling off again.

Kim put a hand on her forehead, closing her eyes in embarrassment. She heard the leader say something in his own native tongue. As she opened her eyes, the warriors disappeared as quickly as they had appeared, and as smoothly. She thought she heard another couple words, but she couldn't hear them properly. Fog set in, obstructing their view further.

"What do you think, KP?" Ron asked as he got up, pulling his pants back up, "Head back?"

"Fog's a bit thick to try;" Kim said, "Best we can do is try and follow our footprints." She glanced around... oddly, only their footsteps were present, but they had definitely given the box of ribbons, since her backpack wasn't half full. Way to real to be an illusion anyways, she decided.

"Think they're trying to keep us from finding our way somewhere?"

She just threw Ron a look that told him all he needed to know. "Come on, let's at least try to retrace; worse case worse, we camp out. Soon as we're out of the fog, we call Wade to send the Sloth over."

"Still don't get how Wade can drive a car by RC and not drive one himself..."

"Wouldn't be surprised if he actually can, just not legally. Give him a few years or so, and he'll be legal."


30 Minutes Later

En Route to PBD Firebase Alternate-3

It was evening by the time they'd gotten clear enough for them to call Wade. He'd sent the Sloth back to where they started (Ron carefully avoiding the fly-covered horse poop this time), and Kim was driving the Sloth now. Rufus was sleeping on the dashboard and Ron was eating from a bag of chips he'd hidden under the seat... somehow.

She wondered about who those Native Americans were; she knew that the secret Ninja school in Yamanouchi, but she thought that was an unusual case. Maybe it's the rule now... she wondered briefly, considering the recent revelations of supers. She glanced at Rufus, and turned on the radio. Music for the default news station she had on played, and the news began.

"This is Frank Williams, and you're listening to Radio News America! Well, it's been another day since the big slam back in late May, and things are still looking good."

Kim scoffed, wondering what his definition of 'good' was. Not even a quarter of the reconstruction had been completed in Middleton last she checked, and while further elsewhere, quality of life was rougher than usual anywhere... Of course, a 'quarter' translates into 'everyone's got basic living and amenities' in Middleton...

"Anyways, we got our ace reporter Kelly Porkins talking with Mister Jilly Alvers of New Jersey, right outside the Las Vegas, Las Vegas hotel in Las Vegas, Nevada... ok Kelly, take this mouthful."

"Well Frank, I'm outside the Las Vegas, Las Vegas hotel; just forty minutes ago another super-powered brawl occurred outside. I'm here with the desk jockey, Mister Alvers. So, Mister Alvers, what happened here?"

"Well baby, some guy in a full deck of some sorta orange armor straight outta a comic book walked up; thought it was some freak convention going on; you know how we get booked with all the freak shows out here. Well, then some other caped babe showed up, gave some spat about power abuse and whatnot, then a brawl broke out! Right in front of me! They completely..." [bleep] "...'ed the place up!"

"Oh boy..." Ron said, putting a hand on his face, "That musta been a pair of the supers, hero and a villain."

"No kidding," Kim said, frowning as she adjusted the radio to clear it of static.

"Do you know who they are?"

"Heck no; all I know is that both of them disappeared after they fought for a while; it was like seeing someone invulnerable takin' on someone who can lay down the hurt. And a lotta it; horrible accuracy though..." the Jilly audibly shivered; and Kim finally recognized him from the time she'd stopped Dementor and Drakken in Las Vegas, almost four years ago. "Still, not the first time such happened. Few years ago..."

Ron groaned, as if he expected their fight there to be brought up despite being over four years ago.

"Anyways Frank," the reporter, Kelly, said, cutting Jilly off, "This has been one of many incidents in major cities lately between such individuals; always with a similar ending: Both either lose and escape, or one is brought down and left for the police to arrest. So far there's been nothing to warn such, and collateral damage remains high. All cities have begun pulling double shifts on their police and ordering all to stand ready to respond in emergency situations, establishing plans of action to respond, but such responses are still in development, leaving danger involved with these superpowered incidents high."

Kim would of hit her forehead with her hand if she wasn't driving; OK, maybe a good bit of collateral happens in my fights, but that's the bad guys usually, not me... right?

"Now, we've been polling lately. Eighty-Eight percent of the US populace is in agreement that something has to be done about this. Of them, forty eight percent agree that the measures must be strict, swift, and emphatic. UN General Secretary..." static "... eleased a statement; quote: "The UN will act and pass a resolution, but until that time, it is in a national, not international, jurisdiction." End quote; Brigadier General Adrian Malta is said to have, on behalf of the group known as "Innocents for Public Safety", drafted a resolution to act on such. The proposal is said to have been discussed in detail but eventually turned down in favor of a less, quote, "intrusive", end quote, resolution, but is likely to carry many elements over. Now, we'll be right back after these ads on Radio News America! I'm Frank Williams at RNA Studios."

Ads for Cow 'n' Chow played, which Ron turned down in disgust. "Well, that's... interesting. Didn't Wade say this Malta dude wanted to suppress people with powers?"

"I think so." Kim said, shrugging her shoulders. "Personally, I think that people are worried. Can't blame them, really; you heard the report, it was a brawl in the middle of a possibly crowded area. Spontaneously. By the time anyone got there, they were gone, and damage was done."

"We've gotten in quite a few of those," Ron pointed out, frowning, as if disappointed in some hypocrisy.

"Not denying that, but usually that's because we're trying to find something or someone was trying to get us. It's not like we go around and randomly introduce someone's face to the dirt because they're wearing colors matching a gang or just out shopping; I mean, come on, Drakken and Shego went to Smarty Mart regularly and you never beat them up."

"Maybe; but I got a feeling some of these guys might. Still, they have some awesome powers. I mean, did you hear about that guy who had those energy powers that GJ just got?"

"Heard mention of it; wonder how Team Go is going to like him."

"Ah, long as he's a nice dude Hego'll like 'im." Ron said with a shrug. "Oh hey, home base, 12 o' clock."

"Shame we didn't get back before dinner," Kim commented with a smirk as she glanced at the dashboard clock.


25 Minutes Later

PBD Firebase Alternate-3

Nevada, USA

Kim rolled her shoulders after sitting down, looking at Ron and Wade. Rufus was sleeping in Ron's pocket, as usual.

"So, Wade, what's the sitch on these drones?" Kim finally asked.

"Well, Dementor is definitely using one of HenchCo's mobile production facilities to make them, they meet a specific standard specification matching the ad in Villain's Digest. There's probably groups looking for salvage to make more, based on what I know of it."

Kim frowned at that, recalling that HenchCo still hadn't had any government interference despite selling quite powerful equipment to various villains, and now it seemed he was expanding into basically selling the foundations for any villain to create something comparable to a small military outpost. This is crossing the line... even for Hench. And right when there's chaos from after the lorwardian hit too... is he trying to set up a third world war made up of a series of superpowered skirmishes and governments trying to restore order?

"Synthogoo is made up of just about anything," Ron commented, he had read Wade's report on synthodrone composition, written last year. "And the drones are about the same. Only dangerous in large numbers."

"Which they're designed to be in," Wade said, "and Dementor isn't just leaving regular drones; I won't be surprised if he starts equipping them as expendable versions of his own henchmen. A lot of it is programming though; the basic synthodrone program isn't capable of much besides attacking until ordered otherwise; they lack self preservation. Well, they lack enough to know when to retreat independently or let one of their buddies take over."

"Except for Eric," Kim said, squeezing her glass tightly.

"Well, he was a deluxe model," Wade retorted, "Drakken probably custom-built him."

"Yeah..." Ron said, giving Wade a look. What's he giving W... oh. Right. Eric... the prom. "So what'd you find from the scans?"

"Dementor churned out some new gauntlets," Wade said, "Hard to tell since I only had one scan of a damaged set, but it looks like a single punch would send you through a wall."

"Assuming they can hit," Kim answered with a smile, "I'm not exactly a still target."

"Actually, I'm more worried about GJ; these guys are going to be facing those drones soon, and I don't think they'd last in a melee, even if they've all got Electro-Gauntlets."

"Drakken was surprisingly free with his shock-staff tech after graduation," Ron said, frowning, "Think he knew Dementor had this up his sleeve and didn't want him to get an edge?"

"Maybe that was his bargain for not getting jailed for the Hank's Gourmet incident." Kim answered, shrugging. "Well, I'm going to go to sleep; long day between the sim and getting ambushed in the desert."

"Sure thing KP," Ron said, "'sides, I want to talk with Wade."


Ron looked at Kim as she walked up the stairs, and shrugged, "So Wade; how's the gaming going?"

Wade looked at him, "You were waiting for Kim to leave to discuss it, weren't you?"

"Hey, come on, we're both geeks."

"True," Wade said, smiling, "Kim walked in on you when you were practicing, didn't she?"

"Well, you could of beeped me about that mission."

"True. Didn't think you'd be playing Tib Sun though, considering Wars is out..."

"Hey, Westwood's awesome. And that was... what, January this year?"

"Oh, right," Wade said, shrugging, "Anyways, once I get my comp back home up, you up for some one-on-ones?"

Ron chuckled, "That'll be fun, Wade. Can't wait. Hope we don't get called all over the world, though... that'd be rough."



Ron was asleep, turning as he dreamed... he wasn't in a bunk anymore, but in a ruined townscape, disabled walkers littering the entire area.

"Come Warmonga, we will take this one as a trophy, she will look handsome mounted next to your Thorgoggle spine..." Warhok said, holding Kim by her leg, smiling evilly as Warmonga walked up, smirking. He suddenly felt the raw power surge through, and rushed at Warhok, decking him into the building nearby, causing Kim to be dropped onto the floor... he grabbed Warmonga, his power visible to him, glowing blue, as he swung her around; Warhok came and crashed into him, but he resisted, and grabbed him to, and with the two, one in each hand by their fingers, he spun, and hurled them into their still coming-down ship, sending them through and blowing parts of metal everywhere...

Wait, that's not how it went, we talked, and it wasn't just one fell swoop, and Sensei was... Sensei?... Ron thought, realizing that for some reason, his dream was summarizing the battle when normally it played it like a movie... suddenly, he was in a courtyard, clear and empty, with Japanese stone walls around with several buildings of Japanese style protected by the walls.

"Yamanouchi?" Ron asked aloud, frowning... "How the heck...?"

"Stoppable-san," said a deep voice behind him.

"Sensei?" Ron asked, turning, and looking at the short Japanese man with a white beard in a red robe with yellow accents along the cuffs and the central part; "Where am-"

"A dream," Sensei explained, cutting him off; "A medium some magic users can use to communicate when the recipient sleeps. What we do here has no effect in the material, but you will retain memories of this encounter."

"OK..." Ron said, unsure, trying to understand what he meant.

"I assume then that you question why I chose to communicate to you in this way. Let me just simply say that I am aware of the awkwardness that spiritual sending causes, and that it is not always the wisest. Without knowing where you would be, such is impossible to do easily. Not that it was simple to locate you in the fabric of dreams, either."

"Yeah... probably for the best; I'm sleeping with a bunch of GJ guys who sleep with pistols; and not just normal energy ones, Desert Eagles, which are, ya'know, hand cannons." He didn't try to sound rude, but the raw dryness of the comment couldn't be avoided.

"Indeed; I take it such would have a negative effect on the place you visit."

Master of understatement... Ron thought with a flash of irritation before Sensei continued;

"I come to you, Stoppable-san, to inform you that you must seek out training, soon; I cannot teach you what you must know to become a master of Tai Sheng Pek Kwar if you do not come."

"I know," Ron said, pacing in the dream, "But things have been hectic; these supers around have been causing problems, and Kim can't sleep without fearing that somewhere someone's causing havoc with their powers. We already planned a trip to Yamanouchi so I could start training, but it's not for another few days."

"I am aware," Sensei continued, "But I have to stress the urgency that you come for longer than the time discussed."

"Sensei, I'm world famous. In the past... I was just the sidekick, but after... after killing those two aliens... I'm up there with Kim; I can't just drop off the radar anymore like I used to. We only have so many excuses; heck, we're starting college soon; I'm already paying for tuition, I can't just drop; it's been paid..." He really hated not being able to drop off the radar anymore; it was nice to be able to get some quiet. And having experienced Kim's live very briefly when the two switched brains, he knew that she would always be active 'till death with her kind of spirit.

Sensei sighed, "I was afraid of this. Very well, Stoppable-san, we will accelerate the training regimen, but I urge you to reconsider. A vine cannot bear fruit if it does not have the time to grow."

Ron nodded, "I understand, Sensei." Fair enough, he wants me to consider, but I think my answer's staying final... some secrets are just hard to keep.

"Another thing;" Sensei said, smiling, "You've shown that despite the reservations of others, you may indeed be able to honor the path of a warrior, a master of Tai Sheng Pek Kwar."

Ron inclined his head politely, "Thank you; I just hope I live up to that expectation."

"Destiny would not have had you gain those powers if it did not have purpose, Stoppable-san."

Destiny? I got these powers because Larry gave me a gamer reference and I used it... if this is Destiny's way of setting stuff up, it's got a sick sense of humor. Or is it irony? Ugh, maybe I should of paid attention in English last year...

He wasn't able to think further as he slipped back into regular dream... a happy one, this time... Junior Prom; the kiss.

And, for once, she didn't turn into a synthodrone. A relaxing change of pace from previous runs of the dream.


The Next Morning

July 9th, 2007

6:47 AM (Local Time)

Professor Dementor's SECRET LAIR

(It's in Alaska)

Dementor grumbled as one of his henchmen moved off one of the damaged support beams. That hero thief really loves wrecking my lairs, doesn't she? he thought, I wonder why I did not return to this lair sooner... right, the pretentious baboon had the ROBOTS I MADE FOR HIM WRECK IT, AFTER FRAULEIN POSSIBLE BEAT HER WAY THROUGH! He growled and grabbed one of the combat dummies that were purposefully left around so he could tear something up with his bare hands when he got angry, ripping an arm out of its socket, as well as let his henchmen practice. Blustering swine, if he hadn't been stoned already, I'd of turned him into radioactive SH...

"MYRON!" he shouted; and his brother in law came in, turning his attention away from anger towards his evil schemes, "Vhat is goingk on vith ze synthodrone factory ve recovered?"

"All set and churning out bots in Nevada, Professor."

Dementor smiled, "Good. Maybe I vas vrong about you, Myron. Maybe not a villain, but you make a fine lieutenant."

"Sir!" said one of his few female henchwoman, a Frenchwoman named Fantine, "Scans indicate the Gauss-tank is commencing field testing near where the Mobile Synthodrone Production Facility is located currently."

"Gauss tank?" Dementor said, frowning. "Gauss tank... I know I've heard zhat term before..."

"Isn't that that fancy magnetically-accelerated coil gun armed tank the Americans are working on in Nevada? The one our new guy got us info on?"

"Technically speakingk," Dementor said, "It is more a mass driver zhan a coil gun, vhich is vhat a 'Gauss' gun is... Fantine! PREPARE ZE BATTLEFIELD CONTROL! I VILL COMMAND THIS PERSONALLY!"

"Yes sir. Establishing battlefield control; stand by in the command room, sir."

Dementor smiled as he walked out of the current room and into the hallway, Myron behind him. "Vell, let's see how zhese synthodrones handle zhemselves against American military spendingk." he commented.



End Chapter

- Effectively, I'm redoing my old "KP Legacy" fic for those who haven't noticed some similarities. Multiple reasons;

*A: That was quite honestly my 'old shame', to use the TV Trope term, due to some of the failures on my part when writing.

*B: The idea was solid, but my inexperience lead me to making way too many mistakes, and I was completely disorganized about it even if I had an idea of what I was doing, so I'm taking this chance to redo it with more experience. Expect similarities, but there'll be plenty of differences too.

*C: Well, what can I say, age helps a lot. Three years since I did the original, and now I return.

*D: Hindsight is a great ally, isn't it? Started writing before Graduation played, but now that I have the after and a few years, it's easier for me to write out without retroactively modifying things. Older and wiser, ya'know? I was like, 13 when I started writing... probably showed. Little font usage, and screwing my perspective breaks. I'll eventually remove the old version once this is really under way (IE, about where that version ended). Here goes nothin'...

- This is what TV tropes would refer to as a "wreck fic", or a fanfic that, rather than using the hammer of fanfiction to create new content, lovingly smashes it in a Deconstruction. I figure that this is a good way to sort of pick up where Graduation ended as Kim and Ron enter the adult world (well, properly enter it). I also embrace some of my personal wild-mass-guessing theories that there is a conspiracy to keep supers hidden in shows like Kim Possible, which came from me looking at some fiction and thinking 'How the heck is the secret not out already?'. I always saw Warhok and Warmonga hitting Earth as a giant wakeup call, like a globally scaled 9/11, if you will. Aliens hit everywhere, supers sort of go 'alright, time to (wo)man up', and start scrapping with the aliens, just like in the comics. It's sort of the catalyst, if you will, for action to come. Middleton has always been a weirdness magnet, so why not include a government conspiracy to keep supers from interfering with day-to-day lives globally while I'm at it?

-PBD, "Power Busters Division", is how I'm portraying a lot of the blue-Kevlar and black-goggle equipped guards seen in various episodes, such as in "The Twin Factor" (Season 1) or "Bonding" (Season 3). They didn't look like GJ agents to me, assuming that the ones in "The Ron Factor" (S2) are anything to go by. (Well dang, 2 factors in two sentences.) I mean, to be fair, GJ is really incompetent considering Gemini singlehandedly defeated 16+ agents in one go in "The Ron Factor", though I assumed that was more their field agents than their other divisions (Spy sats, etc.). PBD is/was worse if you consider that a dozen got thrashed by Shego within seconds, but that's why they're revitalizing in the first place. They're technically part of GJ, but not under Dr. Director's command, and more handled at a national level (IE, USPBD, UKPBD, FPBD, USSRPBD) the distinction is basically "GJ is punching baddies out and blasting evil plans while PBD is more law enforcement/guard duty". Same thing goes for WWEE in the competence department, just opposite side of good/evil. The two factions did seem a slight too trigger-happy at each other's faces, and the fact that one of two twins lead their respective faction was funny to consider in further conspiracy theories.

-I semi-roll back Ron's abilities as shown in Graduation; if you read the previous 'version' of what I'm doing now, you know I explained that as a one-shot freebie as he properly unleashed his abilities; I also set that one after he'd gotten training. This is before he's gotten proper training in honing his abilities, so it'd make sense that Ron would have troubles firing it off on demand without a focus like Kim being in danger. (Besides, who else would get slugged by a bucket filled with straw mounting a pair of dummy arms? Besides Bonnie. and Wade. and Drakken.)

- When writing out Dementor's accent (and accents in general), I practically just make zhem typed out as how they sound, but when a speaker in said accent is thinking I drop it, making it easier to understand the speaker's thoughts. Really, I'm going to keep it close enough to English it's easy to understand with a few mild creative misspellings to give it a more accented feel, but it won't be incomprehensible (if it is, I just say it is). I dunno, I feel like you need to type some indication of accent if you know how to do so, so long as it's easy to recognize (IE, the 'z' instead of a 't' for words like 'That', or the 'v' instead of a 'w' for 'Why', to use Dementor as a example).

-As far as Dementor's goons go, I also make reference to the PS2 KP game "What's the Switch", and you can expect that and the Gameboy games' plots or gadgetry to get mentioned as well in passing or be used; DS not so much, since I haven't played them. This is for two reasons; on the henchmen, it's because I feel that it better shows how Dementor's minions are superior to those of Drakken due to having wider skill sets. Expect other villains to get a little more diversification as well in their minions, but nothing out of place; so Drakken's goons, for example, may start packing smaller shock sticks and trying out riot shields, or Gemini's guys may start using more Bond-like villain props. As for the plots; well, they tend to flesh out the series a bit more, and had some nice toys that expand on some of the one-shot gadgets used (for example, Ron using Diablo Sauce as an ingredient to breathe fire).

-Far as you need to be concerned about the 'future' dudes, the Archivist and Dorothy Lipski, they're just set up, literary devices to set a prologue (or, if it's chronologically after, is it a epilogue? Ah, whatever). Also justifies the pre-chapter quotations; basically it'd be Kim and/or Ron commenting on what's going on as if telling the story, as if recorded by some scholar with a lotta magic; like speaking with the dead, eh? If it's awkward; don't worry, I'll label whose saying it, but in a more conventional quotation manner. That was sort of a set up; the fanfic isn't being told first-person because I don't want to do that/can't, it's more being told in a novel format, but the pre-chapter quotes given would be like Kim reflecting on say, her first mission or the prom. Of course, more standard pre-chapter quotes (meaningful proverbs, hilarious one-shots, set up lines, etc.) are included in the package (now 99 cents at Smarty Mart!)

-There's obviously a reason why the 'future' is a few centuries into the future; no one lives that long. (No one human, anyways, magic or not...) The Archivist is kind of critical about us, he doesn't hate us, he's just a bit critical, representing a cynical look at our history, and weighs it against galactic history. Dorothy Lipski is descended from one of two known Lipski vil- er, men... I leave it to you to figure out which one. As far as that, she represents a human look at our own history that's critical as needed, but has a better grasp of how it scales to humans. I don't intend to do anything more with those two other then maybe a brief interlude, so I felt it best I explain them now.

-Oh, punch line. The books the Archivist use have a Latin language name; I originally took the class to help with writing the original KP Legacy fic, intending to use it as a 'control' language far as magic users were concerned, but that didn't pan out well as I realized how rough it'd be getting translations. Well, what goes around comes around I guess. *shrug* Hey, got my 'take three years of a language class' handled. I dunno weather to chalk that as irony or hilarity.

-PS: Not capitalizing 'lorwardian' because technically speaking, you're not supposed to capitalize a species name (IE, human, bottlenose dolphin, mountain lion, monkey, elephant, protoss). I'm going to avert that standard mistake early ;) (It does make seeing the word a little awkward, though, to be frank).