Project ROWDY 2-21A

Cecil’s office smelled like old war and colder secrets. Steel walls, lightless corners, glass that didn’t reflect. Brick could tell with an idle look around the place that Cecil didn’t allow any surveillance in here. Which meant there was nothing keeping him from speaking the truth but his own choice. No cameras, no recorders, just…

The klaxons had been screaming for almost twelve minutes now, dragging metal claws through Brick’s concentration, but his posture hadn’t budged. Legs crossed on the edge of the mattress, back rounded over the triple tablet rig balanced against his thighs. The glow from the displays lit up the bruises under his eyes like war paint,…

“Talk to me, old man.” Brick bit the words into his earpiece as the urban jungle blurred beneath all three of them, Team Trinity flying just fast enough not to shatter the speed of sound too many times over as they crossed the city limits. It had taken them all of five seconds to pick…

The afternoon sun cast long shadows over suburban Baltimore as Mark Grayson—Invincible, for those not in the know—flew slowly homeward, body aching in places he hadn’t known could ache. His costume hung off his body in tatters, the blue and yellow fabric darkened with soot, blood, and whatever passed for bodily fluid in the alien…

ROWDY: LINK The frosting was fake. Plastic-sweet and thick like it was afraid of being edible, like it came out of a tub labeled WARNING: FOR DECORATION ONLY. Brick didn’t care. He took another bite, chewed it like drywall, swallowed. Perfect. The banner drooped sideways over the GDA conference room, half-taped to a ventilation grate,…

A warzone spread across three levels. It used to be a simple lobby; big, corporate and clean, but still just a lobby. Now though, chaos bled across three levels — vertically, horizontally and diagonally — glass catwalks and chrome staircases as much a victim to violence as the rest of the structure and suffering for…