Author's Note: These next four chapters are, arguably, one of my favorite mini-arcs through the entire trilogy. I hope y'all enjoy it.

-------------
Chapter 24
-------------

They came on a Saturday morning.

Men and women in suits arrived in a suburban neighborhood, and blocked off a cul-de-sac with only their fancy cars and commanding, yet secretive presence.

In seconds, one of the men knocked on the front door of a house at the end of the street. He was accompanied by two more people in suits while they stood on the front porch. The mother of the household opened the door to greet the visitors, but she refused entry while pretending to misunderstand half of the words the suited man in charge was saying.

One person in a suit whispered that the signal they were tracing was above them. Another who had stayed by the cars called out that someone was on the roof.

The suited man hurried to the front lawn, and spotted a heroine looking down at them.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“This is a matter up utmost security and importance. We need you to come with us,” he said in a voice loud enough for her to hear.

She vanished in a collection of sparkling energy and reappeared on the other side of the cars. With a dissatisfied glare, she looked back at the cars.

“I don’t like secrets,” she said. “If you want my help, find me outside Faultline in one hour.”

Princess Undercut teleported away again. No one seemed to know why she was there. Or why anyone had come for her.

Judy enjoyed her morning sleeping in, in the comfort of the gift her idol had left for her for her birthday eleven days ago. There was a new line of stuffed animal dolls dressed up like the newer heroes around the city, including one of a little chick dressed up like Pixeletta. They were so new. She doubted many people even had them yet because they weren’t supposed to be advertised anywhere until tomorrow; she had contacted the company and asked them about it.

Her mom expressed a jealousy for Judy having something that she did not now, and so Judy’s bed became their little haven.

Unfortunately, it was time to get up and get ready to go to work.

She stretched, and walked to the living room to make breakfast. Judy was maybe halfway into her second bite when Princess Undercut teleported into her backyard. Princess Undercut searched around the simple, nice garden until she could see the window where Judy and her mom were looking at her.

That was the first time she had ever suited up while still eating. There were just a couple bites left when she and Princess Undercut teleported away.

At least she remembered to say her goodbyes to her mom.

They appeared on an abandoned parking lot where one of the blue pillar lights were, and a few of their teammates were waiting for them.

Walter said, “Psi Wizard just told me what little there was to tell. Are you sure you didn’t do anything to anger the government?”

“Not that I know of,” said Princess Undercut.

“You were wise to bring this to our attention. There’s no telling yet if this is an Arachne plot, or if it’s something else entirely. Between the Manifest, the drug manufacturer we’ve been helping the police with, and other random acts of heroism, you know we can always use another issue to deal with.”

“Can’t you just ask them what this is about?”

“I’ve been trying, directly and indirectly, but remember, I was in the military. Military and secret agency types rarely mingled unless it was to protect a person both sides deemed worthy for such resources. Even then, it was a nightmare for multiple agencies to share information. At least we will do what we can to keep you from going in unaided. However, knowing their types, they won’t be too happy about us all showing up on their front door together, or listening in when you try to talk to them.”

Pixeletta yawned without meaning to. She said, “Excuse me. So what’s the plan?”

Pixeletta waited inside of the smartphone while Walter and Princess Undercut reached the men and women in suits.

“It looks like the military is with them,” noted Princess Undercut.

“Yes, you’re right” said Walter, “and no one bothered to tell me about this. This must be a sensitive operation that flies above my rank. Well then, let’s find out what this is about. Hello, there! I believe you’re expecting my friend here.”

“Hold your fire,” commanded a distant voice. It got nearer. “Good of you to have come, miss. And sir? What are you, a lawyer?”

“Lieutenant Colonel Walter Dallevan, formerly of Central Command Logistics and of Combat Tactics. And yes, legal representation for my good friend here. I must say, in an hour’s time you’ve done a remarkable job setting up on the edge of the most desolate part of town.”

“The place can fall at any time, what’s left of it, so we can go no closer without being stripped of position and pay. Something to do with a major battle and historical sites.”

“It’s also good to see anyone with a shred of respect for orders, no matter how limited they may be. So tell me, are we to wait out here all day, or shall we head inside?”

“Any devices you may carry will need to be checked at the front.”

“Very good.”

Pixeletta heard no one else say anything of importance, so she waited for the next phase in her part of the plan. The idea of sneaking around a classified, makeshift military base probably shouldn’t have excited her as much as it did.

She heard the phone being set down on a hard surface. Any moment now, she was going to see her ride to the next computer.

Beams of white and green came raining down from one end of the system. The beams passed through the phone’s programs like light would to a window, except these windows shattered and reformed as the beams passed. They were seeking out various forms of threats. There was no escaping the beams as they came closer.

Except for one way.

Pixeletta floated into the aether where the beams were coming from, and she jumped into the data stream posing as another scan.

“Uhh... huh. Everything’s clean,” said a voice.

Another said, “Good. Carry on, and keep these things safe.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Just as Mortar Mage had predicted, the current computer Pixeletta was in was part of a multi-password protected bluetooth connection with a number of other devices in a short, but useful, range. Toward the edge of that range was a computer system designated for recording interrogations and briefings. Pixeletta transferred herself to that system in a blink.

“What is this all about?” asked Princess Undercut.

A man with severe clout in his voice said, “An extraterrestrial satellite that crashed into the Earth some ten months ago. There was a young woman there who got too close, and then was allowed to walk away under the condition that any issues would be reported.”

“Yes, I remember that incident. I also remember being free of any dangerous incidents ever occurring since then.”

“What do you call teleporting all over the place?”

“The same thing I call surviving gunshots and other attempted injuries—a perfectly healthy mutation. It comes with the territory of living in Paragon City in case you never noticed. Stick around here long enough, and you may see some changes of your own.”

Walter said, “I think what my colleague here is saying is, ‘What is it that you want?’”

The man presumably in charge said, “Yesterday, a shuttle reached our planet and contacted us. You don’t just have superpowers. You’re emitting a signal that our equipment can only barely read with their help, and it goes far.”

“Oh, so we’re expecting visitors? Thanks for letting me know. I’ll be sure to get all the punch and music we need,” said Princess Undercut.

“The two aliens who came here did so with a warning. The satellite was part of a weapons race that, ironically, meant the closest thing they’ve known to peace for many generations. They know that the satellite came here, and they are races who’ve been here and met with your . . . vigilante ilk in the past.”

“OK, so another invasion. We get those every five to seven months, sometimes longer.”

“Not on this scale. Something stirred their collective hornets' nests, and they're all coming to collect.”

Walter asked, “How many ships?”

“Our visitors said the estimate was a couple hundred when they left. It could be more by the time the invasion arrives.”

Paragon did have a history of aliens attacking. Usually it was only a few large ships at most, and the heroes rarely had much trouble beating them. Sometimes even known villains jumped into the fighting.

Opposing gangs taking down a common enemy, like the time Mega Mecha Mime rampaged the city, happened on occasion.

Its giant footsteps were unusually quiet too, come to think of it.

The man in charge said, “Princess Undercut, we tracked you down because we hope to resolve this as peacefully as possible. A force that size cannot be beaten without us facing total annihilation.”

“And what do you mean to do with me?” she asked.

“For starters, hide you deep underground while we negotiate with them. Or, failing that, turn you over.”

“Forget it.”

“You’ll find that you don’t have much choice here, miss.”

“I have every choice. And so does every hero or villain out there.”

“She’s right, you know,” said Walter. “Almost everyone who has taken on some role or moniker in Paragon City knows a thing or two about fighting to their last breath. It’s not something I like to see happen, when good people fall in the midst of battle, but am always proud to see possible when they continue to stand against any odds. If I know half of the alien races coming like I think I do, they will not be content with having their prize, and less so that you would try to hide it. You will find that Princess Undercut is no mere prize, and the world will be more than happy to protect itself if given the chance, just as our visitors will only be too happy to negotiate if we can beat enough of them.”

Pixeletta let her excitement get the better of her, and she jumped out of the computer system. “Yes!”

She then saw a surprised, burly man in a suit. Two soldiers ran in, and he held up a hand to stop them.

“My bad. But I’m with them,” she said.

“Very well,” said the unknown agent. “If enough people choose to fight, then I’m sure our new commander in chief would be happy to show his support, not that I necessarily agree with this doomed crusade of yours.”

Walter said, “That’s to be seen. Now, how long do we have to prepare for this big invasion of yours? You’ve mentioned our new president?”

“We have two days, tops.”