Superheroes are real. Someone wants to kill them all.

Liberty, America's first and most famous superhero, has been murdered. As most of the nation mourns, a few wonder if there's more to the story than people are being told. Heroes and villains come together to learn the truth behind the crime, and uncover a conspiracy much larger -- and more deadly -- than they expected.

What is Project Recall?

Start from the beginning

A Rake by Starlight

Politics is dirty. Piracy is just a little smudged.

Grif Vindh, Captain of the Fool's Errand, has a problem: he just stumbled across the single most dangerous thing in his part of the galaxy. It isn't a thing he would have looked for, if he'd known about it, but since he has it he figures he might as well try to sell it.

The problem is, it's not the kind of thing you can sell without taking a side... and taking sides makes you a walking target for all the other sides you didn't take.

Start from the beginning.

Pay Me, Bug!

Never bet against your Captain.

Grif Vindh, Captain of the Fool's Errand, just pulled off the job of a lifetime... but with great success comes unwanted attention. The government he stole from wants to find out how, and they've sent one of their best to track him down. A second government wants him to do it again, and they're willing to blackmail him to do it.

Start from the beginning.

City of Knives, City of Glass: Part Seven

Submitted by C B Wright on
City of Glass

David doesn’t like being a passenger in his own body, but he takes some comfort in that he isn’t a prisoner. He can, he realizes, retake control over his body and mind at any moment—it is trust and active restraint that is allowing Allard to take control.

Allard turns David’s face away from the maelstrom, focusing on a patch of nondescript, empty space far in the distance. David can’t see anything, but he can feel Allard’s certainty that something is there.

City of Knives, City of Glass: Part Six

Submitted by C B Wright on
City of Knives

Under normal circumstances, David wouldn’t think that diving toward a near-infinite cosmic storm of unfathomable power was a good idea. But the dot of white fire now glows so fiercely that it hurts his eyes, and rapidly changing altitude is one of the fundamentals of avoiding artillery fire. Since the storm is already exerting force, trying to draw them down, he can dive faster than he can climb. So they dive, arcing away from the dot of white fire as they descend. The fire dims for a moment, as if surprised, then blazes even brighter than before. The roaring of the maelstrom swells around them, and David is convinced it is a sound of rage and fury.

City of Knives, City of Glass: Part Five

Submitted by C B Wright on
The Nautilus, Atlantic Ocean

Robert Thorpe stares at the image of the bruised, spiky-haired man on his monitor, mind racing to process the new information he’s just received.

“How sure are you about this?”

CB shrugs, his gaze shifting to something outside of the monitor’s view. “Toby is absolutely certain of it.”

“And you believe him?” Robert doesn’t bother hiding his skepticism. “He hasn’t exactly been particularly high on our list of people we trust.”

“Yeah,” CB agrees, “but we trust him to be himself. Look, Robert, I’m not saying that after twenty years of despising the man he’s become my favorite person in the world overnight, but I am saying that when he tells me he and Alex had been playing a long game, and that Alex willingly sacrificed himself to preserve Toby’s cover… yeah, I believe it.”

City of Knives, City of Glass: Part Four

Submitted by C B Wright on
Somewhere Else

I am unraveling.

David winces as the glowing ribbon of flesh tears away from his hand, pulled inexorably into the maelstrom below. The pain is significant now, as if he were grasping a red-hot brand with his bare flesh. The pain spikes, and his arm ripples, his skin twisting and expanding as more of it pulls away. Spidery lights flicker across the surface of the maelstrom below, somehow keeping time with the pulses of pain coursing traveling up his arm. With each pulse he can feel his essence unravel further. Up to his elbow now. Up to his forearm. Up to his shoulder.

A different kind of pressure on his other arm—the grip of the shadow—intensifies.