Toymaker, real name Julia Block, turned out to be a damn lucky woman. For how harshly she'd been tossed around by Next Gen, she only had to worry about a few cracked ribs and a hairline fracture. Still, if they had managed to kick her while she was down, her armour would have given way entirely.

  As it stood, Jon needed to give her time to recover. Or, at least, that was what the doctors said. He was willing to do so, given that he had a seemingly endless procession of other little fires to put out.

  First and foremost came from Peel, who claimed he had made a bit of a breakthrough with the clones. But, after hearing what the bald old man had to say, Jon found himself staring his way with thinly veiled disbelief.

  "Aliens?"

  Peel nodded gravely. "We have had extraterrestrial incidents in the past, after all. There's the Encounter, obviously. But we've had other spaceborne threats like the Star Dragon, Askedia, the Void Men."

  "Yes but those were very rare encounters. We know aliens are out there, but they tend to avoid the planet. Largely because of Dauntless."

  "That doesn't mean there aren't aliens out there who wouldn't try their luck." He opened an image on his screen, a detailed triple helix of DNA. Jon's eyes glanced to some of the notes on either side of the images, only for his eyes to glaze over. He wasn't built for science of any type.

  "This... peculiar DNA structure is what leads me to believe that our new threat is alien in origin. We've actually seen it before." Another image came up on the monitor, depicting a misshapen grey-fleshed, plodding about on four angular limbs. It looked about as large as an elephant, crushing a car under one pointed limb.

  Jon narrowed his eyes at the sight. "Never seen this before."

  "It was a... one off event. Happened in San Francisco about four years back, got taken down by two members of the Vanguard. Given that it was by the coast, people assumed it was simply a critter from the Pacific Anomalous Zone. Now... now it's not so clear cut. Personally? I never believed it was a creature from the Anomalous Zones. Not with how unique it was."

  "So..." Jon lifted a brow. "Our weird clones share DNA with that creature?"

  "Seems that way. But... similar to the clones, that creature also rotted away to nothing despite our attempts to preserve samples. All we have his archived information to compare with."

  Jon sighed, sagging back in his chair. "Was kind of hoping my stint as director wouldn't start with me dealing with a goddamn alien invasion," he muttered.

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  "Well..." Peel forced a smile, his rheumy eyes darting back to the monitor. "We don't know if that's exactly what we're dealing with, Director. We can't discount the possibility, at least. But there's only one group on the planet who have a better grasp of extra-terrestrial matters than us."

  "Mm. And they're the people we'll need to speak to, then." He let out an irritable grunt, already expecting the worst. "I'll tell Anya to make contact with the Triad."

  ?

  The Triad operated from their own private island off the coast of Staten Island, a gleaming fortress of silver spires and neon lights called the Science Citadel. It had been their home for the past fifteen years, after they really made a name for themselves as the hit new superhero team on the block.

  And, naturally, ANVIL couldn't just open a doorway there. As with many installations used by heroes and villains alike, a scrambler was in place to ward off any such attempts.

  After being given permission to come along, the thought alone of having to ask permission grating on Jon something fierce, he took a doorway to a Manhattan ANVIL site and from there got a chopper ride across the bay.

  Seeing the Science Citadel up close, he would admit that it made for an impressive structure. Gleaming spires of sleek metal, illuminated by bright lights. It, at a glance, looked like a dream of the future pulled fresh from the pages of some fifties sci-fi magazine. Yet that gleaming utopian veneer would easily be worn away if one looked hard enough, glimpsing the turrets and weapons partway concealed throughout the structure.

  A figure was already standing at the helipad as the sleek black helicopter eased down through the air. As they drew closer, Jon could see it was a tall man with slicked-back raven hair adorned in a white labcoat. The bodysuit he wore beneath was stark black, with silver gloves and boots, and symbol of a great steel triangle affixed to his chest.

  Jon moved to disembark once the engine ceased whining, the propeller blades overhead slowing to a complete halt.

  The man in the white coat smiled at him. "Director Carver, I presume? I'm Thomas Teller. But most folks know me as Doctor Trinity." He offered a hand, which Jon reluctantly gripped.

  "Nice to meet you, Mr Teller. Are the other two members of the Triad away?"

  "Ha. No, but they ar rather busy at the moment. You know how it is, barely a quiet moment in the lab. Samantha is hard at work testing her new high-yield crops. She's optimistic about being able to out a hard stop to world hunger. And Jack, well, there isn't a man on Earth who rivals his passion for space travel."

  Jon nodded, a flat look on his face. "And you?"

  "Oh, well..." Thomas chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. "Anything to do with aliens? That gets me too excited to focus on anything else. Come on in. I already received some information from your deputy director. Admittedly it was all rather... redacted in places."

  Jon shrugged. "Standard procedure when it comes to outside help. You three haven't been government contractors for years." Not since they got their powers and became the Triad, at least. Prior to that point they had been NASA's brightest trio, eagerly trying to find a way to recreate the Encounter. And, potentially, meet the Visitor again.

  They had succeeded in the former, at least partially. But even creating a weaker version of the rift into the Visitor's home dimension, from which spawned the alien radiation that created alterhumans in the first place, had been destructive enough that nobody else wanted to risk trying the experiment again.

  But the Triad had certainly benefited, at least.

  Jon followed after Thomas, his eye roaming from side to side behind the cover of his sunglasses. He noticed quickly that there were no other humans on the Citadel. Just small silver robots who scuttled about on a set of six steel legs, handling odd jobs around the place with the myriad of tools their hands could morph into. Each one had an LED screen on their torso, depicting a neon green smiley face.

  "Nice place you got here. But I can see you don't get many visitors."

  Thomas chuckled. "Well, usually the people coming our way are... unsavory characters who want to harm the us. Keeping security tight, and being picky about who we let onto the island? It's just common sense. But the Helpers are as good as any human workforce." He paused as they reached a large set of double doors. Purple light flickered around Thomas' eyes, a modest push of telekinetic power pulling the doors open.

  "Now then, Director." He flashed Jon a warm smile, as the radiant lights of the Citadel interior shone outward to greet them. "Welcome to the Citadel."