The Create-A-Hero RPG Season III IC Thread!

[Eddie Brock]

"This is the one," Sergeant Hampton announces as we come to a halt in front of a holding cell. Sarge presses a few buttons on the keypad, and the door slides open with a hiss. The bespectacled occupant doesn't move. Sarge explains, "Franklin Mercer. 24 years-old. Technopath. We apprehended him in the process of downloading the financial records for every resident of Carver."

Franklin looks up at me. Though he tries to hide it, I recognize the momentary shock as he realizes who he's looking at. I notice the odd collar he's wearing.

As if Sarge can read my mind, he explains, "It's a power dampener. With all the technology required to run this place, someone like Franklin here could have a field day. It was a necessary precaution."

Franklin's eyes slide down to the object tucked under my arm. That's when they really light up. He looks like a kid at Christmas.

I hold out the laptop. "Franklin, I need you to do me a favor," I explain. "Sergeant Hampton here has agreed to grant you special privileges if you help me." Franklin takes the laptop - tentatively at first, but then he pulls it towards him with vigor. "Also, as fair warning, the Sergeant is prepared to knock you out if you try anything. Understand?"

Franklin nods. He opens the laptop slowly, seemingly cherishing every moment.

"This was left at a recent crime scene. I'm wondering if you can work your magic to find out any information about who left it there." The laptop was a present by the Coordinator. When I turned it on, I found an email from him congratulating me on yet another success. I know next to nothing about hacking, but if there's anyone who can trace that email, it's gotta be a technopath, right?

Franklin types away at the keyboard furiously. "This encryption is elegant. Firewall on top of firewall, concealed in code and locked with passwords." He's talking like an art critic reviewing a painting. "It could take any normal hacker months to crack this."

I frown. "So how long--?"

"I'm in," Franklin interjects immediately. Even I'm impressed. "Now, from the information I'm gathering, I should be able to triangulate the position of the sender. I've got a lock on his IP address." Franklin frowns. "Man, this is sloppy. I guess he didn't expect anyone to get this far. Okay, wow. I've got an address."

Franklin spins the laptop around so Sarge and I can see. He's pulled up a satellite image of an abandoned industrial park. There's a blinking dot on top of the central building.

"If your boy hasn't moved, this is where he is," Franklin states.

"I know this place. It's a few miles out from Carver," Sarge announces. He takes the laptop from Franklin and begins guiding me out of the room. "Come on. We can have you there in ten minutes. It's time to take out this son of a b****."

As we exit the cell, Franklin cries out, "When will we discuss my special privileges?!"

***

The SDS helicopter lands a few hundred yards from the industrial park. We don't want to alert the Coordinator that we're coming for him. Sergeant Hampton rounded up three officers for a strike team. However, I insist, "Let me handle this. The Coordinator has made it clear that this is personal, so I want to take him down myself."

"Whatever you say, Mantis. Just bring him out here when you've got him."

Nodding, I bound off in the direction of the industrial park. It's time to settle the score with the Coordinator once and for all. Only this time, he doesn't have anyone doing his dirty work for him. I'll be glad to have this nuisance out of my life. Arriving at the marked building, I slip in quietly through a broken window.

The building is kinda creepy in this state. Empty cubicles dominate the room, and I leap silently over them towards the stairs. The Coordinator could be anywhere in here, so I'll start my search from the ground up. Taking the stairs down to the basement, I find myself in an old boiler room. I half-expect Freddy Krueger to pop out and attack me.

Well, there goes any hope of sleeping tonight.

Suddenly, I hear the familiar sound of pinging and beeping from machines. Seems out of the ordinary, considering the circumstances, so I investigate. I turn the corner and am surprised to find computers on top of computers, with more servers and wires than I care to count. Franklin was right. This is the Coordinator's base of operations. Now, to find the man himself...

"HELLO, MANTIS. WELCOME TO MY HUMBLE ABODE. PLEASE, MEET ME IN THE EXECUTIVE OFFICE ON THE TOP FLOOR. WE HAVE MUCH TO DISCUSS."

It's very likely a trap, but it's also the only lead I have. I start to get the sinking feeling that the Coordinator isn't really here, but I make my way to the elevators regardless. The elevator is waiting for me, doors open and everything. Yep, this is definitely a trap. My only option is to spring it. I didn't come all this way for nothing.

I'm surprised to find that nothing bad happens to me during the elevator ride. I move cautiously through the top floor, but there are no booby traps to be found. Eventually, I find myself standing at the doors to the executive office. "Here goes nothing." I take a deep breath and throw open the doors.

"HELLO, MANTIS."

I'm surprised to see a wheelchair-bound man sitting behind the desk. He's connected to a breathing tube, and his eyes seem lifeless. I know he's alive because they follow me as I walk further into the room.

"NOT WHAT YOU WERE EXPECTING, IS IT?"

The voice is coming from the loudspeakers. "Are you--?"

"THE COORDINATOR? YES. WE FINALLY MEET IN PERSON. I'D SHAKE YOUR HAND, BUT YOU CAN SEE WHERE THAT POSES SOME DIFFICULTY FOR ME."

This man who has been terrorizing me for months is crippled? I mean, I suppose it makes sense. That's why he sent others to dispatch of me. And it also explains the lifeless voice. But something about the situation just seems...wrong.

"I'M SURE THIS IS A LOT TO PROCESS ALL AT ONCE, SO ALLOW ME TO EXPLAIN. I WAS NOT ALWAYS LIKE THIS. NOT LONG AGO, I COULD WALK AND TALK AND DO ALL THE THINGS THAT MAKE ONE NORMAL."

Those eyes stare at me as if they're looking into my soul.

"I EVEN HAD A WIFE. SHE WAS EXPECTING OUR FIRST CHILD, MY SON. I HAD DREAMS OF BEING A LOVING FATHER, OF TEACHING MY SON TO THROW A BASEBALL, OF WATCHING HIM MATURE AND BECOME HIS OWN MAN. I HAD DREAMS OF GROWING OLD WITH MY WIFE, RETIRING WITH HER TO THE COUNTRYSIDE. I DON'T THINK THESE WERE UNREASONABLE DREAMS. BUT YOU TOOK THEM FROM ME."

Suddenly, though his face does not - and cannot move - those eyes seem to burn with an anger that I've never seen before. It's at this point that I'm sure this beaten shell of a man is, indeed, the Coordinator.

"WE WERE DRIVING HOME FROM DINNER. WE HAD JUST CELEBRATED MY WIFE'S BIRTHDAY. IMAGINE OUR SURPRISE WHEN WE DROVE RIGHT INTO A METAHUMAN FIGHT! YOU AND THAT CRYSTAL CHARACTER."

Crystalline. That was fairly early on in my "career." It wasn't one of my cleanest efforts, but I did all that I could to end the fight quickly.

"PANICKING, I SWERVED TO AVOID GETTING CAUGHT IN THE BATTLE. I LOST CONTROL OF THE CAR, AND WE CRASHED INTO A PARKED VAN. OUR CAR WAS A MANGLED WRECK. I BARELY SURVIVED THE CRASH. MY WIFE AND CHILD? THEY NEVER HAD THAT LUXURY."

The story hits me hard. "I'm so sorry. I didn't--"

"NO! YOU DON'T GET TO APOLOGIZE! WHERE DO YOU METAHUMANS GET OFF? YOU RUN RAMPANT WITH YOUR POWERS, TRYING TO DESTROY EACH OTHER, AND US NORMAL PEOPLE ARE MERELY SCENERY! PAWNS TO YOUR TWISTED GAME!

"I MADE A PACT THAT I WOULD MAKE YOU VIGILANTES PAY. BUT FIRST, I HAD TO TAKE VENGEANCE ON THE ONE RESPONSIBLE FOR MY WIFE'S DEATH. FOR MY SON'S DEATH! I WOULD CRUSH YOU, MANTIS, IF IT WERE MY DYING ACT!"

The silence hangs heavy in the air. Did I crash his car? No. Did I kill his wife and unborn child? No. But my hands are stained with their blood, regardless. Because, in a way, he's right. I'm indirectly responsible for their deaths. And nothing I can say will make that right.

"SO HERE WE ARE. I GREW TIRED OF THE CAT-AND-MOUSE. I ADMIT, I ENJOYED WATCHING YOU SCRAMBLE FOR A WHILE, BUT I'VE BEEN DOING A DISSERVICE TO MY LOVED ONES. THEIR DEATHS DEMAND JUSTICE, AND I'M PREPARED TO DELIVER IT!"

With his very limited control over his hand, the Coordinator reaches out and presses the button on a remote on his lap. A red light flashes underneath his shirt.

"I LEFT THAT COMPUTER ON PURPOSE. I KNEW YOU'D USE IT TO FIND ME. I WANTED TO BRING YOU HERE. IN A FEW SHORT SECONDS, THIS ENTIRE INDUSTRIAL PARK IS RIGGED TO EXPLODE. I ACCEPT MY DEATH, KNOWING THAT I WILL SOON SEE MY WIFE AND CHILD. AND THE BEST PART? I FULFILL MY PROMISE BY TAKING YOU WITH ME!"

I try not to panic. I know the Coordinator. He isn't bluffing. I leap over the desk and rip open his shirt. The bomb is embedded in his chest. Even with ample time, I don't think I'd be able to get it out. I look the Coordinator in the eyes. His continue to burn with seething rage. I can't save him.

"I didn't mean for anything to happen to you or your family," I say softly. If he's going to die, I'm going to apologize to him formally. "I accept that what happened was terrible, and I accept that my presence played a role indirectly. As long as I live, I won't forget what you've taught me here today. And for what it's worth, I hope you're right. I hope you do see your family after this."

For once, the Coordinator is silent. There's no time to reflect on it. If I only have seconds, I need to move quickly. Shielding my face with my new exoskeletal protrusions, I leap through the glass window behind the Coordinator. As I land, I tuck and roll before taking off in a sprint. I need to get clear of the industrial park! In desperation, I leap into the air and pray for the best.

KABOOOOOOOM!

The industrial park explodes in a massive fireball behind me. The ensuing shockwave knocks me out of the air, and the heat from the explosion sears my back. I land in a crumpled heap a few dozen yards away. As I'm recovering, I see Sergeant Hampton and the SDS officers running to me.

"Mantis!"

"I'm fine." I stand up straight and feel the back of my costume. Most of the fabric burned away, and my bare skin is exposed. Wonderful. I turn around and look at the remains of the industrial park. Somewhere in there is what's left of the Coordinator. I hope he found peace. "Let's go home."
​

 

[NiteMare Shape]

test

 

[NiteMare Shape]

test 2

"This is the one," Sergeant Hampton announces as we come to a halt in front of a holding cell. Sarge presses a few buttons on the keypad, and the door slides open with a hiss. The bespectacled occupant doesn't move. Sarge explains, "Franklin Mercer. 24 years-old. Technopath. We apprehended him in the process of downloading the financial records for every resident of Carver."​

Franklin looks up at me. Though he tries to hide it, I recognize the momentary shock as he realizes who he's looking at. I notice the odd collar he's wearing.​

As if Sarge can read my mind, he explains, "It's a power dampener. With all the technology required to run this place, someone like Franklin here could have a field day. It was a necessary precaution."​

Franklin's eyes slide down to the object tucked under my arm. That's when they really light up. He looks like a kid at Christmas.​

I hold out the laptop. "Franklin, I need you to do me a favor," I explain. "Sergeant Hampton here has agreed to grant you special privileges if you help me." Franklin takes the laptop - tentatively at first, but then he pulls it towards him with vigor. "Also, as fair warning, the Sergeant is prepared to knock you out if you try anything. Understand?"​

Franklin nods. He opens the laptop slowly, seemingly cherishing every moment.​

"This was left at a recent crime scene. I'm wondering if you can work your magic to find out any information about who left it there." The laptop was a present by the Coordinator. When I turned it on, I found an email from him congratulating me on yet another success. I know next to nothing about hacking, but if there's anyone who can trace that email, it's gotta be a technopath, right?​

Franklin types away at the keyboard furiously. "This encryption is elegant. Firewall on top of firewall, concealed in code and locked with passwords." He's talking like an art critic reviewing a painting. "It could take any normal hacker months to crack this."​

I frown. "So how long--?"​

"I'm in," Franklin interjects immediately. Even I'm impressed. "Now, from the information I'm gathering, I should be able to triangulate the position of the sender. I've got a lock on his IP address." Franklin frowns. "Man, this is sloppy. I guess he didn't expect anyone to get this far. Okay, wow. I've got an address."​

Franklin spins the laptop around so Sarge and I can see. He's pulled up a satellite image of an abandoned industrial park. There's a blinking dot on top of the central building.​

"If your boy hasn't moved, this is where he is," Franklin states.​

"I know this place. It's a few miles out from Carver," Sarge announces. He takes the laptop from Franklin and begins guiding me out of the room. "Come on. We can have you there in ten minutes. It's time to take out this son of a b****."​

As we exit the cell, Franklin cries out, "When will we discuss my special privileges?!"​

***​

The SDS helicopter lands a few hundred yards from the industrial park. We don't want to alert the Coordinator that we're coming for him. Sergeant Hampton rounded up three officers for a strike team. However, I insist, "Let me handle this. The Coordinator has made it clear that this is personal, so I want to take him down myself."​

"Whatever you say, Mantis. Just bring him out here when you've got him."​

Nodding, I bound off in the direction of the industrial park. It's time to settle the score with the Coordinator once and for all. Only this time, he doesn't have anyone doing his dirty work for him. I'll be glad to have this nuisance out of my life. Arriving at the marked building, I slip in quietly through a broken window.​

The building is kinda creepy in this state. Empty cubicles dominate the room, and I leap silently over them towards the stairs. The Coordinator could be anywhere in here, so I'll start my search from the ground up. Taking the stairs down to the basement, I find myself in an old boiler room. I half-expect Freddy Krueger to pop out and attack me.​

Well, there goes any hope of sleeping tonight.​

Suddenly, I hear the familiar sound of pinging and beeping from machines. Seems out of the ordinary, considering the circumstances, so I investigate. I turn the corner and am surprised to find computers on top of computers, with more servers and wires than I care to count. Franklin was right. This is the Coordinator's base of operations. Now, to find the man himself...​

"HELLO, MANTIS. WELCOME TO MY HUMBLE ABODE. PLEASE, MEET ME IN THE EXECUTIVE OFFICE ON THE TOP FLOOR. WE HAVE MUCH TO DISCUSS."​

It's very likely a trap, but it's also the only lead I have. I start to get the sinking feeling that the Coordinator isn't really here, but I make my way to the elevators regardless. The elevator is waiting for me, doors open and everything. Yep, this is definitely a trap. My only option is to spring it. I didn't come all this way for nothing.​

I'm surprised to find that nothing bad happens to me during the elevator ride. I move cautiously through the top floor, but there are no booby traps to be found. Eventually, I find myself standing at the doors to the executive office. "Here goes nothing." I take a deep breath and throw open the doors.​

"HELLO, MANTIS."​

I'm surprised to see a wheelchair-bound man sitting behind the desk. He's connected to a breathing tube, and his eyes seem lifeless. I know he's alive because they follow me as I walk further into the room.​

"NOT WHAT YOU WERE EXPECTING, IS IT?"​

The voice is coming from the loudspeakers. "Are you--?"​

"THE COORDINATOR? YES. WE FINALLY MEET IN PERSON. I'D SHAKE YOUR HAND, BUT YOU CAN SEE WHERE THAT POSES SOME DIFFICULTY FOR ME."​

This man who has been terrorizing me for months is crippled? I mean, I suppose it makes sense. That's why he sent others to dispatch of me. And it also explains the lifeless voice. But something about the situation just seems...wrong.​

"I'M SURE THIS IS A LOT TO PROCESS ALL AT ONCE, SO ALLOW ME TO EXPLAIN. I WAS NOT ALWAYS LIKE THIS. NOT LONG AGO, I COULD WALK AND TALK AND DO ALL THE THINGS THAT MAKE ONE NORMAL."​

Those eyes stare at me as if they're looking into my soul.​

"I EVEN HAD A WIFE. SHE WAS EXPECTING OUR FIRST CHILD, MY SON. I HAD DREAMS OF BEING A LOVING FATHER, OF TEACHING MY SON TO THROW A BASEBALL, OF WATCHING HIM MATURE AND BECOME HIS OWN MAN. I HAD DREAMS OF GROWING OLD WITH MY WIFE, RETIRING WITH HER TO THE COUNTRYSIDE. I DON'T THINK THESE WERE UNREASONABLE DREAMS. BUT YOU TOOK THEM FROM ME."​

Suddenly, though his face does not - and cannot move - those eyes seem to burn with an anger that I've never seen before. It's at this point that I'm sure this beaten shell of a man is, indeed, the Coordinator.​

"WE WERE DRIVING HOME FROM DINNER. WE HAD JUST CELEBRATED MY WIFE'S BIRTHDAY. IMAGINE OUR SURPRISE WHEN WE DROVE RIGHT INTO A METAHUMAN FIGHT! YOU AND THAT CRYSTAL CHARACTER."​

Crystalline. That was fairly early on in my "career." It wasn't one of my cleanest efforts, but I did all that I could to end the fight quickly.​

"PANICKING, I SWERVED TO AVOID GETTING CAUGHT IN THE BATTLE. I LOST CONTROL OF THE CAR, AND WE CRASHED INTO A PARKED VAN. OUR CAR WAS A MANGLED WRECK. I BARELY SURVIVED THE CRASH. MY WIFE AND CHILD? THEY NEVER HAD THAT LUXURY."​

The story hits me hard. "I'm so sorry. I didn't--"​

"NO! YOU DON'T GET TO APOLOGIZE! WHERE DO YOU METAHUMANS GET OFF? YOU RUN RAMPANT WITH YOUR POWERS, TRYING TO DESTROY EACH OTHER, AND US NORMAL PEOPLE ARE MERELY SCENERY! PAWNS TO YOUR TWISTED GAME!​

"I MADE A PACT THAT I WOULD MAKE YOU VIGILANTES PAY. BUT FIRST, I HAD TO TAKE VENGEANCE ON THE ONE RESPONSIBLE FOR MY WIFE'S DEATH. FOR MY SON'S DEATH! I WOULD CRUSH YOU, MANTIS, IF IT WERE MY DYING ACT!"​

The silence hangs heavy in the air. Did I crash his car? No. Did I kill his wife and unborn child? No. But my hands are stained with their blood, regardless. Because, in a way, he's right. I'm indirectly responsible for their deaths. And nothing I can say will make that right.​

"SO HERE WE ARE. I GREW TIRED OF THE CAT-AND-MOUSE. I ADMIT, I ENJOYED WATCHING YOU SCRAMBLE FOR A WHILE, BUT I'VE BEEN DOING A DISSERVICE TO MY LOVED ONES. THEIR DEATHS DEMAND JUSTICE, AND I'M PREPARED TO DELIVER IT!"​

With his very limited control over his hand, the Coordinator reaches out and presses the button on a remote on his lap. A red light flashes underneath his shirt.​

"I LEFT THAT COMPUTER ON PURPOSE. I KNEW YOU'D USE IT TO FIND ME. I WANTED TO BRING YOU HERE. IN A FEW SHORT SECONDS, THIS ENTIRE INDUSTRIAL PARK IS RIGGED TO EXPLODE. I ACCEPT MY DEATH, KNOWING THAT I WILL SOON SEE MY WIFE AND CHILD. AND THE BEST PART? I FULFILL MY PROMISE BY TAKING YOU WITH ME!"​

I try not to panic. I know the Coordinator. He isn't bluffing. I leap over the desk and rip open his shirt. The bomb is embedded in his chest. Even with ample time, I don't think I'd be able to get it out. I look the Coordinator in the eyes. His continue to burn with seething rage. I can't save him.​

"I didn't mean for anything to happen to you or your family," I say softly. If he's going to die, I'm going to apologize to him formally. "I accept that what happened was terrible, and I accept that my presence played a role indirectly. As long as I live, I won't forget what you've taught me here today. And for what it's worth, I hope you're right. I hope you do see your family after this."​

For once, the Coordinator is silent. There's no time to reflect on it. If I only have seconds, I need to move quickly. Shielding my face with my new exoskeletal protrusions, I leap through the glass window behind the Coordinator. As I land, I tuck and roll before taking off in a sprint. I need to get clear of the industrial park! In desperation, I leap into the air and pray for the best.​

KABOOOOOOOM!​

The industrial park explodes in a massive fireball behind me. The ensuing shockwave knocks me out of the air, and the heat from the explosion sears my back. I land in a crumpled heap a few dozen yards away. As I'm recovering, I see Sergeant Hampton and the SDS officers running to me.​

"Mantis!"​

"I'm fine." I stand up straight and feel the back of my costume. Most of the fabric burned away, and my bare skin is exposed. Wonderful. I turn around and look at the remains of the industrial park. Somewhere in there is what's left of the Coordinator. I hope he found peace. "Let's go home."​

​

​

 

[Mr. Majestic]

It has been a month now and Mark also known as Spartan has been unconscious in an S.T.R.I.K.E hospital. His father and James Stewart have been the only ones standing by his bed side since he has been comatose.

“How is he doing today James?”

James pulls out his laptop and connects to the other machinery that’s plug into Mark.

“It still hasn’t changed sir. His brain activity hasn’t been active for quite sometime. Spartan’s brain…”

Agent Moore gives James an awkward look.

“… I mean Mark’s brain isn’t like everyone else’s, it hard to tell exactly how his brain works because of his abilities.”

“I understand. I always thought Mark couldn’t be stopped. Guess I was wrong.”

As both Mark’s father and fellow Executioner member watch over him the door swings open and Major Lee walks in.

“I’m assuming you all got the news, looks like our soldier here isn’t going to wake up anytime soon.”

Major Lee then walks besides Spartan and looks at him in disappointment and bends down towards his ear.

“All that money and time we spent on you, perfect soldier my ass.”

Major Lee stands straight up and head towards the door. Before his exit he turns to Mark’s dad and looks him in the eyes.

“We’re pulling the plug on him as of now.” Major Lee tells them right before he walks out.

Mark’s father couldn’t believe that they would give up on him so soon. He then quickly makes his way to his son’s side and grabs his hand.

“Son listen, you have to come back to me. Everyone wants there war hero Spartan I just want my son. I know your in there son, your stronger than this. If you don’t wake up son they are going to kill you.”

James over hears what Agent Moore had said.

“Sir even if they do take him off the machines his body won’t let him die.”

“You don’t understand James, STRIKE has made a formula that will kill him. Now they think he is not useful they are going to get rid of him unless we can wake him up.”

James is taken back by the information he is told. He always had seen Spartan as a person who could stand up to Icon himself. To know that a simple formula could kill him is just crazy.

Jonathan held his son’s hand praying that his son would wake. While holding Mark’s hand a single tear fell from his face and landed on Mark’s hand. A couple of seconds later Jonathan could feel his son’s grip getting tighter. At that moment he knew his son was coming back.

“That's it son wake up. Your not a quitter so don’t give up on me.”

With all the high-tech machines and high profile doctors none of them seemed to be good enough to bring Mark out of his coma than his fathers love.

“Dad can you loosen up on the grip your squeezing my hand a little to hard.” Mark say as he slowly opens up his eyes.

“I knew you would wake up.” Johnathan tells his son as he gets up and gives his son a loving embrace.

James also makes his way to Mark’s side with a smile on his face. “Spartan sir it’s good to see you’re finally up. I and your dad has…”

As James is going to continue Major Lee and two other scientist walks in and he stops talking. Major Lee sees Spartan on the bed with his eyes open, he was nothing short of surprise.

“Spartan great to see you’re up and kicking.”

Jonathan couldn’t believe how fake Major Lee is.

“So my boy, are you ready to get back on the bandwagon?”

“Sir I don’t know what has happened to me but I do know that I’m in no condition to go back on duty.” Just waking out of a coma Mark’s mind maybe functioning but his body is far from ready.

This was not the answer Major Lee wants to hear.

“Very well then we wouldn’t want you going on the field and not being 100%. Get some rest and come to me once you’re ready.”

Truth is he doesn’t care about his health. With him being up it saves him a lot of money from starting the Spartan project again.

“Get well.” Major Lee says as he leaves the room.

The tension that was in the room seemed to leave as Major Lee did.

“So now that you got a little R and R coming your way what are you going to do Spartan?”

Mark didn’t answer the question right away he was tired and his body is still recovering. For him to have been in a coma for a month and able to move around and talk with no problems is a miracle it self.

“Right now I just want to rest. Oh and James my name is not Spartan, its Mark.”

 

[Byrd Man]

I look over at Blur and the only thing I can do is smile. I thought I knew how to make an entrance but he showed me.

“I hope you all have your running shoes on because after I win this I don’t want to hear no excuses.”

“Please, after I win this I’m going to ask them to get a statue of me right here in the middle of the park.” Kid quick replies.

I gaze over at Pulse’s direction wondering if he was going to make a comment himself but he didn’t. He just grabs his helmet and places it on his head.

Boy these guys have no clue how prepared for this race I am. I made this new custom just for this occasion. It protects me when I’m running from the effects of using my super speed. Since I can only use two powers at the same time now I don’t worry about that. I can concentrate just on running. This will be the first time I only just used my speed.

The gentleman with the microphone makes his way towards us.

“Okay gang before we get this kicked into another gear we have some jewelry for you all to wear.”

Fours kids then come from the sidelines with arm bracelets in their hands. Each one of the kids hands us the bracelets.

“Those arm bands if you will, that you will be wearing are made to fallow your positions during the race so we know who is winning, losing or if you happen to get off course. The rules of the race are simple. In order to win you must go around the world 4 times fallowing the track that has been made for you all to fallow. If you happen to need to make a pit stop that is no problem at all. But just know where ever the location is you got off course you must return to that spot and in order to continue racing. Who ever pass the finish line first wins and all proceeds will go to whatever charity of their choosing. Most importantly they will be known as the Fast Person Alice! I mean Alive!”

I know he feels like crap right about now.

I then slap on the bracelet devise and get down in a racing position. I look over at the Blur. Even if I lose I got to stay close to him I have to be right on him.

I slap the braclet on my wrist and then look over at Youngster.

"So, how's it going? I haven't seen you since that whole mess with the aliens. I seem to recall that you're not too fast...well, in comparison with present company."

I throw Youngster a smile. A little pysch-out before a race never hurt anyone.

“If our racers are ready, we'll begin. Runners, take your marks."

I squat down and get into a runner's stance.

"Whatever happens, guys, I want the best runner to win....especially if that runner's name rhymes with Flue Flur. "

"On your marks.....get set.......GO!"

 

[NiteMare Shape]

I make my way into the warehouse through a skylight in the roof, quickly firing a grapple line which snags itself on one of the ceiling girders and I silently swing over to my new perch.

From my hiding spot in the rafters, I quickly assess my suroundings. The warehouse is loaded with storage containers, and if my intel is right those containers are packed with high powered weaponry.

Weapons that I'm going to have to destroy.

Fortunately, Midas made it easy for me. There are only two gaurds, not counting The Franchise.

Hidden high in the rafters, I watch the gaurds make their way through the twisted maze of storage containers...and I wait. I wait for one of the gaurds to pass directly below me, then I step from my perch and plummet toward the ground, the slack in my grappel line snapping tight a mere few feet from the ground.

The gaurd never saw me coming.

I land directly behind him, hitting him with a hard chop in the back of the neck that drops him. While he is down, I bind his arms and legs, knocking him out of this fight, then I rappel myself back up to the rafters where I get ready to make my next move.

Moving through the shadows in the rafters, I make my way toward the center of the warehouse. Haven taken out one gaurd, I now only have to worry about the second gaurd and the Franchise.

Franchise is a dangerous man, despite his flashy demeanor he is not someone to be taken lightly. I keep this in mind as I drop down to take care of the second gaurd.

I am about to drop the gaurd when suddenly the sound of thunder errupts inside the warehouse. Instinctively, I duck, looking around for the source of the sudden distraction. When I bring my eyes back around to the gaurd I had been ready to pounce upon, I find him laying on the floor with a smoking hole in his chest.

"That was a warning shot, friend. You won't get another one."

I look toward the source of the voice, and I find Franchise, standing on top of some of the storage crates which hold the weapons Midas has been hiding in this warehouse...pointing a gun that has the firepower of a small cannon, directly at me.

 

[Eddie Brock]

THE CITIZEN

Jonathan Winters is roused by the feeling of someone grabbing him roughly and pulling him out of the van. His head is throbbing, and he doesn't remember what happened after he agreed to go along with these Spectre people. Still dazed, Jonathan has to squint when the burlap sack is pulled off his head. As his eyes adjust, he realizes that he's standing inside a military hangar - or at least what looks like one.

"I apologize for our methods, Jonathan," the man in sunglasses announces calmly. He walks up behind Jonathan and undoes his handcuffs finally. Jonathan had forgotten he was wearing them. "It occurs to me that I never formally introduced myself," the man continues as he walks in front of Jonathan. "My name is Phillip Hanson, and you can just call me Hanson."

Jonathan's expression doesn't change. "You work for Spectre?"

Hanson smiles. "Indeed, I do. I suppose you could say that I'm part of Human Resources. This hangar, leased through a corporation under Spectre's control, operates as one of our many field offices across the globe," Hanson explains. "At any given time, Spectre is running a multitude of independent operations in various areas around the world."

"What is Spectre?" Jonathan asks, clearly unimpressed so far.

"That's the real question, isn't it?" Hanson answers with a smirk. "Of course, you're asking me to generalize a massive organization in a matter of a few words, so you'll forgive me if I seem a bit vague. Simply put, Spectre is a collection of like-minded individuals pursuing a common interest through any means necessary."

A terrorist organization, Jonathan muses. It makes sense why they would be interested in him. After all, he is one of the few American-born terrorists. "What common interest might that be?" Jonathan asks curiously.

Hanson grins. "Well, your adherence to radical communism is well-documented, Jonathan. It was all over the news during your trial," he explains. He throws his arm around Jonathan's shoulder and continues, "Spectre simply wants to give you the tools you need to bring about the overthrow of the capitalist regime."

Jonathan stares at Hanson. He's no fool. They don't give a damn about the revolution. All they want is chaos. Still, this group had gone to all the trouble of getting Jonathan out of prison, so he owed them that much. Besides, even though Spectre has ulterior motives, they're not stopping Jonathan from pursuing his personal interests. "Perhaps we can make a deal," Jonathan says finally.

***

"You're really sure it sounded good?" I ask, referring to my speech at the dedication ceremony. Katherine is in the bathroom getting ready for bed as I hold the Amulet in my hands. "I thought I might've come off a little strong, honestly." I hear the bathroom door start to open, so I quickly tuck the Amulet under my socks and close my drawer.

"You sounded great," Katherine assures me. "Very official." She walks up to me and gives me a quick kiss before making her way towards the bed.

I smirk. I can't tell you how nice it is to have Katherine to come home to. It really makes the daily grind just a little less draining. "Okay. I trust you. I just wish that Tom was as reassuring. He worries about every little detail to a point where I think it's starting to rub off on me."

Katherine groans. "Oh, please, don't become like him. Tom does his job very well, but if you ever become as bad as he is, I will divorce you on the spot," she threatens. She takes out her earrings and puts them in the jewelry box next to the bed.

I laugh. "I promise. Besides, I just don't get it." I take off my shoes and socks, throwing the latter into the hamper for washing. "How do you go through life so afraid of everything? I've always found that the world isn't nearly as bad as everyone makes it out to be."
​

 

[Rain Dog]

“You humans are a plague,
A wretched plague on this Earth!
And it is through your many evils
That you have given birth
To me and my kin!
And by the very souls within
Your hideous vessels,
You shall be destroyed!
You must be destroyed!
You shall be destroyed!
You must be destroyed!”

“Hosanna, Messiah! Hossana, Messiah!”

“A false idol you follow,
Your ‘Cosmic Messiah’,
What has he done to earn your respect?
Come with us now, children,
We’ll lead you to freedom,
Take our hands now and your souls we’ll protect!
You are free to choose the path that you’ll follow,
Though we feel that it’s our duty to say,
That should you continue with your Cosmic Messiah
My brother and I shall make sure that YOU PAY!
YOU SHALL BE DESTROYED!”

“YOU MUST BE DESTROYED!”

“Hosanna, Messiah! Hosanna, Messiah!”

“YOU SHALL BE DESTROYED!”

“YOU MUST BE DESTROYED!”

“Hosanna, Messiah! Hosanna, Messiah!”

“ENOUGH!!”

…
Em --------------------------------------D
“LEAVE THIS PLACE NOW, UNHOLY NEGATIVES!
C7 -------------------------------C#7
I BANISH YOU MONSTERS TO ANOTHER REALM!
G ------------------------Bb
DEFILE MY TEMPLE NO LONGER YE DEMONS!
F ---------------------------B
I BANISH YOU INTO DARK OBLIVION!!!”

Lights. Sparks. Fire. Smoke. Darkness. Curtains. Silence. Thunderous applause.

“And that brothers and sisters, is how our great Revered defeated the Negatives that attacked our congregation those many months ago. And it is not coincidence that shortly afterwards, the horrible Atrocities of Arlaaek took place. Luckily, through his divine power, Madlove sheltered, protected, and healed us so that we may sit here today. Please give our performers another round of applause, they have but on a great production for all of us today. And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce the great man we are all here to see, the one, the only, the Cosmic Messiah, Reverend MADLOVE!!!”

I fired off a few weak bolts of energy to treat my lovely children to a light show. I was invisible to them, thanks to the fog machines. I stepped out the thick white mist, enshrouded in a silvery cloak that was quickly pulled off by two scantily clad female assistant. As I’m revealed to the crowd, my eardrums almost burst as the overwhelming sound of their screams fill the Church. It was nearly impossible to fit them all inside now. They were crammed together, wall to wall, the seats were filled, the aisles were filled, and many were pressed against the stage and back walls.

“Live to love!” I shout into the microphone.

“And love to live!” they shout unanimously.

“My babies, it is my great pleasure to announce…that we are moving. That’s right. Construction of the House of Madlove is officially underway!!! We will have our own mansion—our own castle in the hub of Lost Haven, to live, love, and worship together—everyone of us!”

More ear-shattering screams. I begin to see tears streaming down the faces of a few in the front rows.

“Our dreams come closer and closer to being realized, my children! Soon everyone shall see what we have accomplished and more and more people will join our cause. And some day, some grand day, the whole world shall join us in ascending into the cosmos! Global Enlightenment!”

A few faint. Nothing to be concerned about, that merely means I’m doing well.

“And to celebrate this momentous occasion, I give you famed musician and our beloved brother, Cade Belton who has recently signed a record deal with a major studio!”

The crowd applauds the young man as he steps onto the stage with an acoustic guitar strapped around him. He gives me a smile and bows his head as I step away from the mic. The boy has helped me more than he knows. And with that record deal, he’s bound to send my message to more young, naïve ears. As he takes to the mic and begins to strum his instrument, I look out to the mesmerized audience. And I shed a tear. My Empire. My beautiful Empire.

 

[Hound55]

Isaac bundled together his work, consumed the contents of the last opened bottle and wandered through his house and out the door to the adjacent garage in a haze. He was already dressed for his "work trip" and had gear awaiting his departure under the driver's seat. The artificial beep of the garage door pierced the silence and he reversed out of the driveway and made for where his previous days of research directed him.

Streetlights blurred as if viewed through a soft focussed lens as he powered through the early evening traffic. He had a fair ways to go and an uncharacteristic lack of patience to get the answers he sought.

Later

Fontaine pulled up his car down a sidestreet a half a block from his destination, it was a minor hassle generally worth the effort of not leaving his car out the front of where he would be. Isaac switched the plates on the rear, and stuck on a new laminated registration. This was again, generally worth the effort.

Folders were stuffed up his tracksuit top, until the top slid inside a strap and the bottom rested snugly and securely on a half-pouch, Isaac threw his pack on and grabbed his grapple gun before striding down the the empty street to the target building.

Reaching the building he looked up and sighed, "Very. Very. Exposed." he thought to himself and looked around the surrounds of the building. Seeing the headlights of a car he sprinted around the corner to the cover of darkness on the near side of the building. The car past without noticing him and Isaac calmed himself. Looking up the building he counted the desired number of floors off and aimed his grapple gun upwards. "C'mon... first time, this time." Very deliberately he took deep breaths and fired in between two of them, the hook shot upwards pulling with it a thin strong cable and hit... nothing. Isaac stepped backwards as the cable fell quietly into the grass just in front of him leaving a sizeable divot. Isaac merely sighed, retracted the cable quickly and took aim again.

Twice more it had the same result before it eventually stuck. It caught the right balcony this time too, much to his surprise.

Isaac, checked his gear was all secure before retracting the cable and letting the powerful new winch mechanism on this grapple gun pull him up the building.

Isaac was now around the corner from his target, albeit on the same floor now. Isaac took the spare hook from his pack and attached it to one of the jimmy-sticks in his pack and holstered his grapple gun. Once again checking his gear was secure he stood on the edge of the balcony, his gloved left hand feeling for the security of the side of the building... as if he was checking it was still there.

Taking a deep breath he lunged out and threw the hooked stick out to catch the balcony of the next apartment, the stick held and he took his right hand off of his holstered "Plan B" and used both hands to cling to the stick, before pulling himself up and onto the balcony.

Here he rested for a while and panted like a dog which had been trapped in a hot car all day. You have to try all equipment eventually, but you still stress when you're trying it for the first time... at altitude.

The panic over, he then moved on to his next challenge, a cupped hand shielding the light he peered through the window to the front room of the apartment. Not finding what he was wary of he then checked the second wall, then the third.

Nothing.

Still that wasn't too surprising, a guy in his position was hardly going to be concerned about his safety to have himself a home security system, he'd considered it a 50/50 shot to start with... but its always best to view these things with caution regardless. Isaac took a lock at the lock on the sliding door.

Unlocked.

This also wasn't overly surprising to him, thinking little about noise he slid the door open and carried his gear into the main room. He put it down by the front door and began to peruse through the eerily normal apartment. He put the stick back in his bag and took out his voice modulator, he knew he had little need for it earlier and it made breathing more difficult when it came to the gymnastics of "coming in the back way".

He strolled into the kitchen and brazenly took a chair, not bothering to check if anyone was home. He knew he needn't bother. If the occupant was home, he'd have known about his presence already, Isaac had made ample noise to make his presence felt if there was anyone around to feel it. He took the chair back to the front room, positioned it so that the back faced the front door and sat on it backwards so that he could rest his chin, knowing he could be in for a long wait.

Footsteps coming from the hall outside of the door disproved the possibility of a long wait, though. The sound of keys jostling outside of the door were followed by the turning of the door handle.

Relying heavily on familiarity whilst addressing a man who could literally kill him before he knew what happened, his artificially altered voice pierced the darkness [BLACKOUT]"Scott... I want a word with you..."[/BLACKOUT]

 

[Eddie Brock]

THE CITIZEN

"Wake up, Jonathan," Hanson says softly. Jonathan opens his eyes, and Hanson smiles. "The operation was a success. Go on. Stand up." Jonathan sits up straight before swinging his legs around the side of the operating table. He hops off the table energetically. "The bio-genetic enhancements have vastly improved your strength and durability. We also have another surprise for you."

Hanson turns around and opens a large metal case. Reaching inside, he pulls out two familiar items. He places them in Jonathan's waiting hands.

"This hammer and this sickle will augment your abilities," Hanson explains. "And they also respond to your natural biorhythms to pack an extra punch."

Jonathan holds the two weapons in his hands eagerly. He can feel the energy flowing through him. He's a changed man now. So much better than what he ever was. Meeting Hanson's eyes, Jonathan asks, "What do I do now?"

"We've turned you into the ultimate symbol for the communist ideology. It's only fitting that your first task is to eliminate a capitalist icon."

***

"Hello, Martha!" I announce pleasantly, greeting my secretary. "Is that a new sweater?"

Martha smiles from her desk. "Yes, it is, Mr. Mayor. Thank you for noticing! Congratulations on the pregnancy," she adds happily. "That must be so exciting!"

"It is." I make my way into my office and hang up my jacket next to the door. Just another day at the office. I start up my computer as I place today's newspaper on my desk. I scan the headlines for anything particularly interesting. Nothing jumps out at me. Looks like it's going to be a slow day.

I'm right about it being slow until just after lunch. I settle into my office when the entire building shakes. I stay completely still for a moment, and then the building shakes again. I press the intercom and ask, "Martha, what's going on out there?"

There's silence on the other end of the line for a moment. Then, "Something's going on downstairs!"

I frown. Sounds like the Citizen is needed. Grabbing my jacket, I exit my office at a brisk pace. "Hold my calls," I instruct Martha as I pass. I duck into the stairwell and make for the roof. Once there, I remove my suit, revealing my costume underneath. After hiding my folded suit behind an air conditioning unit, I jump off the roof and fly through the front doors to City Hall.

"I'm going to have to ask you to stop what you're doing, sir."

The leather-clad man turns to face me.

"Citizen! Just the man I was looking for!"
​

 

[NiteMare Shape]

​

No More
​

Scott makes his way up the stairs of his apartment building with a million swimming through his mind. He is unable to believe the events of today. The conversation with Kelly keeps replaying in his mind, and each time he goes through it, he thinks of something else that he should have said...anything but admit the truth.

He kicks himself for not resisting more, for allowing her to wrestle the truth from him so easily, but he wonders if part of him didn't want to tell her...to let someone know the truth, someone that he could confide in.

And he resists the thought that if that is the case, perhaps he was wrong in leaving Lost Haven and everyone that he had cared about. Thoughts that he can't entertain, he's made his decision and he can't go back.

He won't go back.

He takes his keys out as he approaches his door, putting them in the lock and slowly opening the door.

When he enters his apartment he immediately knows something isn't right. It's darker than usual inside, and he can hear someone breathing in the living room.

Footsteps coming from the hall outside of the door disproved the possibility of a long wait, though. The sound of keys jostling outside of the door were followed by the turning of the door handle.

Relying heavily on familiarity whilst addressing a man who could literally kill him before he knew what happened, his artificially altered voice pierced the darkness [BLACKOUT]"Scott... I want a word with you..."[/BLACKOUT]

He recognizes the voice in the darkness immediately, and is only slightly surprised. If someone was going to do some digging and actually find him in Salem, it WOULD be him...That's why Scott had done some digging of his own.

"I guess it was just a matter of time before you showed up." Scott says matter of factly, "But I gotta say, breaking and entering...I would have expected more from you, Issac."

 

[Eddie Brock]

THE CITIZEN

The leather-clad man charges me, and even with my limited precognition, I'm unable to dive out of the way. The man hits me like a freight train, lifting me off my feet and slamming us through the glass doors to City Hall. I take a tumble down the steps leading to the doors as the man comes to a halt. He smirks behind his domino mask. "The revolution has come to your doorstep, friend."

I regain my bearings and hover at eye-level with this man. "Well, since you seem to know who I am, you won't mind me asking who you are."

"Call me the Marxist," the man answers, "And I am the voice of the people! I am the face of the proletariat masses, here to end your reign of tyranny!" Can't knock a man for being passionate about something.

"With all due respect, the Cold War ended a while ago." I launch myself at the Marxist, grabbing him around the waist. I carry him into the air a short distance before slamming him back down in the middle of the street. "I'm something of a history buff myself, but sometimes you have to let things go."

My little maneuver didn't faze the Marxist nearly as much as I was anticipating. He's able to land a clean hit against my cheek with that hammer of his. For a second there, I'm almost positive that the hammer glowed red when it connected. Might explain why it seemed to hurt just a little bit more. I see his second swing in my mind's eye, and my reflexes take over the rest.

I catch the hammer in my hand. Marxist looks confused for a second. He didn't see that coming. He raises his sickle and slashes it downward. I'm forced to release the hammer in order to keep my hand. Marxist jabs the hammer forward, hitting me in the sternum with the flat end. It's not a pleasant feeling. It also causes me to get knocked back off of him, allowing him to recover.

"You want to talk about history? How about the history of all the blood shed by your capitalist regime? How about the sweat on the brow of the working class, slaving away so you can live in decadence?"

Swinging the hammer over his head, Marxist nearly splits my skull open. I'm saved only by quick thinking and quicker reflexes. Dodging to the left, I blind the Marxist with a bright flash of light. I grab the wrist of his hand that's holding the sickle and twist it behind his back. He's forced to drop the weapon, which arguably has the potential to do more damage to me.

"You know, communism's got a little black book of its own," I remind him. He spins around, undoing my hold, and punches me with the handle of the hammer. Christ, he's strong. Before I have time to react, he brings a knee into my ribcage. I double over in pain. He brings the hammer down on my back, and I fall flat on my face.

The Marxist smiles. "I should have expected as much from bourgeoisie scum," he scoffs, circling me like a vulture. He picks up his sickle and runs the blade along the flat side of his hammer. "Not used to working with your hands. You're soft." He raises the sickle up over his head, and I see the rest of the attack with my precognition.

I roll over and catch the blade between my hands. "Soft?" I repeat. I land a kick into Marxist's abdomen, and he looses his grip on the sickle. I hop to my feet, spinning around, and wrap the blade around the back of his neck. "Not so tough now, huh? Wanna call me soft again?"

To my surprise, he merely laughs. His laugh grows in intensity, and I find myself wondering what's so funny. "I told you that you were soft! You won't do it. You won't kill me. You can, but you won't." He stares into my eyes through his domino mask. "That is why you're soft."

I see it in my mind's eye a split-second before it happens. Marxist thrusts the hammer upwards from underneath my arm, connecting with my elbow. My arm bends out of shape with a sickening crunch, and I drop the sickle. My arm is flopping around like a wet noodle. He shattered my elbow.

Marxist drops his hammer and begins laying into me with haymaker after haymaker. Having only one working arm to defend myself, I'm nearly helpless against the blows. In a desperate act of self-preservation, I unleash a blinding flash from my body. The Marxist is forced to relent, and I stumble backwards. I nearly trip and fall over the hood of a parked car.

I look down at the car, then back at the stunned Marxist. If I'm going to do what I think I'm going to do, I have to do it quickly. I can't afford to let the Marxist recover. With my working left arm, I grab the car from underneath its front bumper. Despite the immense strain it puts on my arm and upper body, I lift the car with only my one arm and swing it around at the Marxist. He opens his eyes just in time to see the blur of metal headed his way.

My arm gives out from the strain right after I connect with the Marxist. Fortunately, I think it was enough. The Marxist lays in a heap a few yards down the street, barely conscious. I walk over to him, right arm still hanging helplessly. "Score one for capitalism." I summon up the strength for one good left cross, and it knocks the Marxist out.

I look down at my shattered elbow. Looks like I won't be forgetting the Marxist anytime soon.
​

 

[wiegeabo]

"Very funny!"

The Director looks up from the file he's bent over as I burst into his office and slam the door behind me. Alberts is there too, bent over the Director's desk. They don't move as a begin to rant and rage, instead they just follow me with their eyes.

"Very freaking funny. Bet you and your boy toy here got a nice kick out of it. Oh, and Hawkes! HAHAHAHA! Oh man, that guy can ACT! Sold it perfectly. 'Don't do anything I wouldn't do.' And then he plants one, oh, not so obvious I'd find it too easy. But easy enough that I spend all night tearing my place apart looking for others."

They just continue to stare.

"Oh, hold that look I want to remember this." I use my hands to frame them like I'm holding a camera. "Click. Priceless. You guys...you guys. Best actors in the world. I've seen professional con men who can't carry this as well as you do." I spin the chair around and sit down on it backwards. "Bravo." I start slow clapping. "Bravo."

The Director closes the file they were reading. He leans back in his chair, straightens his tie, and looks me right in the eyes. "Cole...just what in the HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!" The rage he throws at me catches me off guard and scoot back an inch without meaning to.

"You dare to march in here, interrupt official business, make a damn fool of yourself, and accuse me of...accuse me of...just what the hell are you accusing me of?!"

Now it's my turn to get angry. "Stop it! Just stop it. You don't have to play anymore. You don't trust me, fine. I get that. I get this." I slam my foot on his desk and pull up my pant leg so he can see the tracking anklet. "But you don't have to bug my apartment!"

The Director shoots to his feet. "Get your damn foot off my-wait, what?"

I pull my foot down, reach into my pocket, and throw the device onto his desk.

The Director slowly sits down. "Alberts." Alberts rushes over to the other side of the desk. He picks the bug up and starts examining it. The Fat Man slides his chair over and paws the bug as well.

"Uh...guys?"

The two look at each other, then at me, then at each other again. The Director presses a button on his phone. "Hawkes, get in here now."

It only takes a few seconds for Hawkes to come strolling in. He likes to pretend his in control of the situation, even when he clearly isn't. It irritates the hell out of all of us. But since it irritates the Director too, I put up with it.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" The Director holds the device up for Hawkes to see. Hawkes raises and eyebrow and saunters over, taking the device in his hand. "Ah, yes. The good ol' G-42's. Reliable, efficient, powerful..."

"I knew it!"

"Knew wh-...wait, this isn't a 42." Hawkes sits down. "This is a...48?!"

I glance at everyone. "What's a 48?"

Hawkes just keeps examining the bug as he answers. "A G-48k listening device. This is beyond top of the line, sir. I've been putting in requests for 44's for months, but keep getting turned down." He glares at Alberts. "They're too expensive."

"Who uses G-48's?" The Director asks.

Hawkes shakes his head. "No one. This is at least two generations beyond what's out there. No one should have this stuff. Not the NSA, not the CIA, no one."

"Well someone does."

"Where'd this come from?"

"My apartment, as if you didn't know."

Hawkes' eyebrows shoot up and he looks at the others. "Your apartment."

"Yeah."

"Hawkes..."

"On it."

"On what? What's going on?"

Hawkes stops me, sticking the bug in my face. "If you'd listen instead of talk you'd realize that we didn't plant this."

"But..."

"And now you get it. Someone knows about you."

 

[Hound55]

He recognizes the voice in the darkness immediately, and is only slightly surprised. If someone was going to do some digging and actually find him in Salem, it WOULD be him...That's why Scott had done some digging of his own.

"I guess it was just a matter of time before you showed up." Scott says matter of factly, "But I gotta say, breaking and entering...I would have expected more from you, Issac."

[BLACKOUT]
"Please..."
[/BLACKOUT]
[BLACKOUT]"...your door was open, its just 'entering'. Gimme a little credit..."[/BLACKOUT]

Great, he knows your name... Well, the guy can hear a scream for help across a city's bustling noise. Let's not be too surprised. Don't let him know that it bothers you...

[BLACKOUT]"...and I'd recommend you speak to the building inspector or super about getting some more fire escapes put in. While its probably not such an issue for you, I'd wager your neighbours can't really get the same kind of hangtime when they jump off their balconies if their stove is on fire."[/BLACKOUT]

So he knows... Calm yourself and stick to the spiel...

[BLACKOUT]
"But we both know I didn't come out here to check your new home for building code violations..."
[/BLACKOUT]

 

[trustyside-kick]

OOC: Previously...

Lost Haven
10 Minutes from Now

Here I am, face to face with the monster who abducted Grace. The only positive side of this, is that Grace remains unharmed...and fully clothed. Sebastian Blake. Big philanthropist on account of the fact that he has investments in the forming of some of the biggest companies across the world. How he could accumulate that money and be so wide spread is a mystery to me. Supposably through his families line but...his supposed father, grandfather, great grandfather, and so on...for at least 4-5 centuries look exactly like him. Like...you'd swear looking at the photos you see the same face, and same age...and there's few records or photos of them to begin with. So Sebastian Blake surely is a mystery, but frankly not one I care to solve right now.

It's time to save the day.

Grace remains blindfolded, shrieking in terror with muffled screams and noises as she is gagged as well, tied and laying down in the luxury suite I am now standing in. This man is a psycho, a psycho who for some reason is obsessed with me. So obsessed that he takes away Grace, not to rape and murder her like he did the rest of the three girls who went missing in the past almost month, but just to draw me out. No wonder he has been going to my art galleries all this time. But why he bothered to rape and kill those women in the mean time is beyond me.

As I said. This guy's a full blown psychopath with a facade that has everyone convinced he is some sophisticated philantropist.

Who knows.

Maybe he actually is both. As crazy as it sounds. He has yet to strike me, and I have yet to move. He just stands there before me, in a white button down shirt, with some strange clothing clearly hidden beneath. Is that guantlets bulging around his forearms?

"If you wanted my attention, there are plenty of ways to go about that. E-mail, Facebook, MSN...this is the 21st Century buddy. But the fact that you raped and murdered three women and took hostage my...ex-girlfriend is nothing short of sadistic."

Grace's tears run down her blindfolded face, and I can hear her soft wimperings. My fists clench and all the psycho does it laugh in front of my face.

"Hahaha, Michael. Yes, in the end this was all about you. But don't begin to think those three dead women's blood are on your hands. And believe me..."

He starts to untie his shirt, and slowly take it off. Tossing the shirt aside, he looks over at Grace, with an uncontrollably look of lust as he looks at her before quickly shrudding it off and looking back at me.

"...what happened with those women was entire consensual. They loved me so much...they desired to give their lives for me. They served a greater purpose. I...loved them, and they me. It was a beautiful sacrament."

"What did you do to them exactly?"

Sebastian chuckles a bit, brushing his hair back in a sophisticated fashion that only annoys me more than he already was as he acts so proper while admitting to such a sadistic act.

"You are sure to find out soon enough, Michael."


Cathedral of the Holy Cross
Father Damian's Study
Boston, Massachusetts
28 Days Ago

"Three sins remain, Michael. There are but three left."

"...Right. The sooner I find out what I can about them the sooner I can prepare myself."

Turning the book a few pages, he comes to a demon that looks like your standard demon that you've seen all over cartoons, cinema...horns, tail, claws, beard, ears...looks like a demon.

"Many believe that the demon Belphegor and his spreading of the sin Sloth is one of the lesser of the Seven Sins of Man, Michael. But do not become prone to such ideals."

"'Course. I mean, otherwise it wouldn't be one of the 'deadly' sins am I right?"

Of course me trying to shed some light, some comedy, doesn't go well with Father Damian. This is a serious subject, and...I don't know maybe it's the fear within me that I'm trying to fight. I haven't been this shooken up since the alien invasion. Guess I'm just trying to laugh it off. Still thinking about that Lust demon, thinking about what's coming for me.

...Why does this have to happen to me?

...

"To embrace Sloth and not take the joy and pleasure of God's mysterious and beautiful works, is to show you do not appreciate or love God. And that is the greater sin of Sloth, Michael. One who embraces Sloth has no love or care for God. The one who will come to you...will surely be a torture soul to have such a lack of faith."

I don't say what I'm thinking, but it's something along the lines of this: Perrrrrrrfect. Just Perrrfect. I was worried about whoever that Lust demon would send but now apparently the one this Sloth demon is gonna have chase my tail is going to be like the Anti-Christ or something.

"How do I beat him? How can I overcome that, when what drives me to fight is my Faith?"

"Be very diligent, Michael. Take hold of the virtue of Diligence. This creature that you will face, will cause you such pain you are going to lose hope, and more importantly lose faith. Do not give up, Michael. No matter what. Don't. Give. Up."

He brings my attention to the second to last demon who represents one of the Seven Deadly Sins of Man. Looks like what many people think a sea monster would look like back in the old days. Dragon-hydra-lochness monsters looking demon pretty much is a way to describe how it looks.

"Levianthan is not just one of the seven princes but Hell, but also its Gatekeeper. To dwell in Envy like Levianthan is similar to that of Mammon and embracing Greed. The difference is Envy is much more broad. But to defeat the one who comes at you with great Envy in his or her heart, you do not embrace the same virtue. Rather than using Charity for this sin you would be wise to counter it with Kindness. Someone who feels great Envy is often times because of a lack of love and kindness in their lives. So much like Charity, only compassion and unconditional love for their sake."

"Sounds like you're saying I need to show someone who is trying to kill me...love? I'm supposed to just be 'oh its okay, I forgive you for trying to kill me, how about a hug'? I'm not trying to ridicule you, Father, but that sounds ludicrous."

"Did you not show such kindness to that mugger you told me about? Before you were even fully bestowed with the Archangel State you stood up to a man with a gun and instead of fighting him you showed him great compassion. You looked at his situation and prayed for his sake."

He's got a point. Wow. If I could do that without powers...maybe this won't be so hard. Need to stop worrying so much. Yea, that's right.

I can take it. Now just 1 more demon, sin, and virtue to go over. Gotta be honest right now I'm feeling pretty good.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

[BLACKOUT]
"Please..."
[/BLACKOUT]
[BLACKOUT]"...your door was open, its just 'entering'. Gimme a little credit..."[/BLACKOUT]

Great, he knows your name... Well, the guy can hear a scream for help across a city's bustling noise. Let's not be too surprised. Don't let him know that it bothers you...

[BLACKOUT]"...and I'd recommend you speak to the building inspector or super about getting some more fire escapes put in. While its probably not such an issue for you, I'd wager your neighbours can't really get the same kind of hangtime when they jump off their balconies if their stove is on fire."[/BLACKOUT]

So he knows... Calm yourself and stick to the spiel...

[BLACKOUT]
"But we both know I didn't come out here to check your new home for building code violations..."
[/BLACKOUT]

Scott just looks at Isaac and shakes his head.

"Yeah, I know why you're here. I'm sorry you wasted your time...I'm not going back. I'm done." Scott says as he prepares for the unfiltered verbal assault he knows he is about to endure.

 

[Hound55]

Scott just looks at Isaac and shakes his head.

"Yeah, I know why you're here. I'm sorry you wasted your time...I'm not going back. I'm done." Scott says as he prepares for the unfiltered verbal assault he knows he is about to endure.

[BLACKOUT]"I know..."[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]"But I do want to meet them..."[/BLACKOUT]

He pauses for effect and because he wants to soak in that "What the hell is he talking about" expression he can see on ex-Icon's face.

[BLACKOUT]"...I'd like to meet the people who are worth between 18..."[/BLACKOUT]

With that said he reached under his top and pulled ou the first of the two folders dropping it at the-Hero-formerly-known-as-Icon's feet.

[BLACKOUT]"April 3rd, last year. The least amount of people you've saved in a day since you decided to don some blue garb doing that thing you do... Sorry. Did."[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]"...and 532 people per day."[/BLACKOUT]

With that he dropped the second at his feet.

[BLACKOUT]"Yeah, I flicked through some papers. Numbers're padded a little because you saved a 747 full of people, but a life's a life. That'd be your busiest day's work, from what I saw... outside of that whole alien invasion thing of course where technically you were a part of saving 3-point-something billion."[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]
"So yeah... I'd love to meet the people who are worth between 18 and 500-odd people PER DAY. Because I know quite a few people but, *chuckles* I don't know anyone like that."
[/BLACKOUT]

 

[NiteMare Shape]

[BLACKOUT]"I know..."[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]"But I do want to meet them..."[/BLACKOUT]

He pauses for effect and because he wants to soak in that "What the hell is he talking about" expression he can see on ex-Icon's face.

[BLACKOUT]"...I'd like to meet the people who are worth between 18..."[/BLACKOUT]

With that said he reached under his top and pulled ou the first of the two folders dropping it at the-Hero-formerly-known-as-Icon's feet.

[BLACKOUT]"April 3rd, last year. The least amount of people you've saved in a day since you decided to don some blue garb doing that thing you do... Sorry. Did."[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]"...and 532 people per day."[/BLACKOUT]

With that he dropped the second at his feet.

[BLACKOUT]"Yeah, I flicked through some papers. Numbers're padded a little because you saved a 747 full of people, but a life's a life. That'd be your busiest day's work, from what I saw... outside of that whole alien invasion thing of course where technically you were a part of saving 3-point-something billion."[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]
"So yeah... I'd love to meet the people who are worth between 18 and 500-odd people PER DAY. Because I know quite a few people but, *chuckles* I don't know anyone like that."
[/BLACKOUT]

Scott stands there in silence for a moment, letting Isaac's words sink in.

They hit him like a hammer, the shockwave of his former teammate's words reverberating in his head. Scott can't help but to think that maybe Isaac is right.

But this is a decision that Scott made. Not only had he failed to protect the people who meant the most to him in this world, but he let his desire for vengance take control of him. When he found his sister's killer he beat him within an inch of his life...he was going to kill him.He wanted to kill him, it was only when Haze intervened, killing Riot before Scott had the chance that he stopped. It was on that day that he stopped being a hero...it was that day that Icon died.

"You don't understand..." Scott says, searching for the right words, until he decides to abandon this line of argument altogether.

"Look Isaac, I appreciate what you're doing. But I'm no hero. Not anymore." He pauses for a moment.

"And it's not like those people out there don't have anyone watching over them. The Guardians can handle anything that comes along. You don't need me Isaac, and they don't either."

 

[Hound55]

Scott stands there in silence for a moment, letting Isaac's words sink in.

They hit him like a hammer, the shockwave of his former teammate's words reverberating in his head. Scott can't help but to think that maybe Isaac is right.

But this is a decision that Scott made. Not only had he failed to protect the people who meant the most to him in this world, but he let his desire for vengance take control of him. When he found his sister's killer he beat him within an inch of his life...he was going to kill him.He wanted to kill him, it was only when Haze intervened, killing Riot before Scott had the chance that he stopped. It was on that day that he stopped being a hero...it was that day that Icon died.

"You don't understand..." Scott says, searching for the right words, until he decides to abandon this line of argument altogether.

"Look Isaac, I appreciate what you're doing. But I'm no hero. Not anymore." He pauses for a moment.

"And it's not like those people out there don't have anyone watching over them. The Guardians can handle anything that comes along. You don't need me Isaac, and they don't either."

[BLACKOUT]"Heh... We're not heroes anymore."[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]"We stopped being heroes the second we began accepting Government funding... We became something else."[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]"A hero is a man who pushes himself to the limits of his will for the betterment of society. Determined by a true moral compass. Outside 'investors' can only taint that..."[/BLACKOUT]

Isaac raises himself from the seat, turning it as if to offer putting it back in the kitchen and then as if sensing a visual cue from the ex-Icon he left it in the middle of the room.

[BLACKOUT]"At best we're an elite specialised police force... at worst, we're mercenaries."[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]"And that's the extended reason why we need you... Even beyond the 18 to 500-odd. The people need to know that the one powered person they knew and trusted perfectly prior to us uniting is providing his moral compass."[/BLACKOUT]

Isaac turned and continued whilst walking towards the sliding door.

[BLACKOUT]"You want to know what heroes DON'T do..? They don't curse out an entire hall full of thousands of kids in front of tv cameras..."[/BLACKOUT]

With this he chuckled as he continued to shuffle towards the door.

[BLACKOUT]"These people don't need me. I help, but they don't NEED me. They need something to get behind. They need a symbol they can believe in."[/BLACKOUT]

With this he put his hand on the sliding door's handle and turned back to his former teammate. And gave a rare kind of smile, from behind a balaklava more fitting for a dark grin.

The smile of a friend.

[BLACKOUT]
"...And you ARE the Icon."
[/BLACKOUT]

 

[NiteMare Shape]

[BLACKOUT]"Heh... We're not heroes anymore."[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]"We stopped being heroes the second we began accepting Government funding... We became something else."[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]"A hero is a man who pushes himself to the limits of his will for the betterment of society. Determined by a true moral compass. Outside 'investors' can only taint that..."[/BLACKOUT]

Isaac raises himself from the seat, turning it as if to offer putting it back in the kitchen and then as if sensing a visual cue from the ex-Icon he left it in the middle of the room.

[BLACKOUT]"At best we're an elite specialised police force... at worst, we're mercenaries."[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]"And that's the extended reason why we need you... Even beyond the 18 to 500-odd. The people need to know that the one powered person they knew and trusted perfectly prior to us uniting is providing his moral compass."[/BLACKOUT]

Isaac turned and continued whilst walking towards the sliding door.

[BLACKOUT]"You want to know what heroes DON'T do..? They don't curse out an entire hall full of thousands of kids in front of tv cameras..."[/BLACKOUT]

With this he chuckled as he continued to shuffle towards the door.

[BLACKOUT]"These people don't need me. I help, but they don't NEED me. They need something to get behind. They need a symbol they can believe in."[/BLACKOUT]

With this he put his hand on the sliding door's handle and turned back to his former teammate. And gave a rare kind of smile, from behind a balaklava more fitting for a dark grin.

The smile of a friend.

[BLACKOUT]
"...And you ARE the Icon."
[/BLACKOUT]

Scott stands there listening to Isaac's words giving voice to his own concerns about the Guardian Act, and accepting government funding for the superhero team.

As well as other concerns.

As Isaac speaks about the people needing him as a symbol, again he finds himself facing the same conflict that he has been fighting since he left Lost Haven.

Deep down, he knows that Isaac is right...He is needed more than he'd like to admit. He knows this, yet chooses to ignore this simple fact.

He made his choices.

He can't go back, he can't become what he once was.

Can he?

Scott stands there in his apartment with his former teamate, absorbing everything that the Vgilante had said, unable to make heads nor tails of any of it...unable to think clearly on the matter.

Finally, he just shakes his head and looks to Isaac.

"I'll think about it, Isaac...that's all I can promise you now."

 

[Hound55]

Scott stands there listening to Isaac's words giving voice to his own concerns about the Guardian Act, and accepting government funding for the superhero team.

As well as other concerns.

As Isaac speaks about the people needing him as a symbol, again he finds himself facing the same conflict that he has been fighting since he left Lost Haven.

Deep down, he knows that Isaac is right...He is needed more than he'd like to admit. He knows this, yet chooses to ignore this simple fact.

He made his choices.

He can't go back, he can't become what he once was.

Can he?

Scott stands there in his apartment with his former teamate, absorbing everything that the Vgilante had said, unable to make heads nor tails of any of it...unable to think clearly on the matter.

Finally, he just shakes his head and looks to Isaac.

"I'll think about it, Isaac...that's all I can promise you now."

[BLACKOUT]"That's all I could ask... and honestly, that's all that I want."[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]"I wouldn't want even you to be doing this if your heart wasn't in it. We can't "half-arse" it in this line of business."[/BLACKOUT]

With this he cringed slightly, realising the heavy British influence of his Terrarian accent, but then shrugged it off, realising he was talking to someone who already knew his name. Well, at least his first name.

[BLACKOUT]"But if you're really serious about this, and you're looking for a fresh start, maybe I could help you some..."[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]"I happen to know a little bit about, well... 'beginning a low-profile new life'."[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]"...probably the first two rules would be to change BOTH of my names and to move out of the country where I've operated as one of the most famous public figures of the past decade... but there's more as well."[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]"We'd have to up and move you again... lose these brand new friends you've had... well... less than a month to grow attached to, and move you out of this country. But I know some people, who know some people who could get you papers... make you truly 'invisible'."[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]"I mean... I have some systems which work for me in terms of 'finding people who don't want to be found', but I think its a fair bet that my resources are fairly meagre when compared to the people who have been funding us."[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]"People who have a vested interest in YOU and would certainly have feelers out looking to get you back under their employ by any means necessary."[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]"As much as I'd want to have you back with us, and believe it's the only RIGHT thing to do, at least I still believe its ultimately up to you."[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]"That's why I'm saying 'think it over, if you're really serious about this, come let me know', don't ask me how... something tells me you'll find a way, and we'll do this thing properly. It's the least we can do for you after all you've done so far."[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]"Anyway... something tells me I'm overstaying my welcome. Even more than just by the fact I snuck in through your balcony. Oh... Bag!"[/BLACKOUT]

Scott saw the pack by his foot and tossed it to him. Which Fontaine caught and gave a sly grin in return saying.

[BLACKOUT]"Cheers! And one more thing... can the Isaac crap, after all of this I'd hate to have to be the one who goes after you and everyone you care about..."[/BLACKOUT]

Isaac pulled the hooked stick out of his bag, and jumped onto the balcony ledge showing far more confidence than he really felt.

[BLACKOUT]"Later."[/BLACKOUT] He said as he casually dropped from the balcony, to another unseen across and beneath the former superhero's.

 

[trustyside-kick]

Lost Haven
9 Minutes from Now

Sebastian grabs for something behind his back, and I reach for my angel-fire sword. I do not prefer to use it, 'cause the thing seems to be able to be some serious damage but if I have to defend Grace as she remains to be vulnerable to danger while being in this room I will draw my blade. But when all he does is pull out a small dagger, I do not ignite my sword; though I do keep my hand floating above it with caution.

Wonder what he's going to do with it. The victims that were found had no cut marks on their bodies. Maybe this is a new toy of his.

"Being a divine agent of your Lord...just how open-minded are you now, Michael? Do you believe in...rituals?"

He raises the dagger to eye level, but does not threaten me by pointing at me as though he is about to throw it. Instead, he simply gazes at the weapon and looks at it as though he was studying it.

"I've seen my fair share of odd things, but congratulations Blake. I've yet to see something as bizarre as you."

"Me? Bizarre? You speak to me as though I am a...savage. No no...the old Cherokee or Iroquois cretins I'd seldomly indulge upon when I used to make trips overseas at the start of the American Colonies...they were savages."

"...Indulge?"

"It was...I felt the best way to describe it. Hahaha, by the look on your face it would seem you think I eat people, Michael. Of course not. That would be...inhuman of me. The only flesh I take...is my own."

"The heck are you--!!"

He starts to dig the dagger into his chest, freakin' psycho! The entire time he is grinning. In fact, I think his smile goes wider and wider as he continues to carve a circle around his chest.

"Everything, Michael...requires sacrifice."

He starts to carve in an upside-down star and as soon as he is done, suddenly he closes his eyes and his freshly cut wound starts to glow a purplish-red hue. Dropping the knife on the floor, I don't even see it in time he charges at me with such speed and ferocity.

"NOW IS WHEN THE REAL FUN BEGINS!"


Cathedral of the Holy Cross
Father Damian's Study
Boston, Massachusetts
28 Days Ago

Father Damian turns the page to the last page he is going to have to turn. Seeing the picture of the demon before me, I quickly recognize him. He's one of the more popular ones and especially popular in my home state's history. During the Salem Witch trials, the accused witches would claim that it was this demon that influenced them.

"Gluttony can often be viewed as one of the lesser sins much like the sin of Sloth. However Beelzebub is indeed a powerful demon among the rest of the princes of Hell. What makes Gluttony such a sin, is that one starts to eventually lose self-control. Which is precisely why the virtue of Temperance is key to counter such a sin. And that, Michael, is the last of the Seven Deadly Sins of Man. I trust you will do further study on your own now that you are more aware."

"Yes, Father Damian. My main concern is just when they are going to come at me. Hopefully Bath Kol's images will become more and more clear to give me an idea. Guess til then I'm gonna be hitting all kinds of books and resources I can get my hands on."

"Do not forget about the Church, Michael. On different days several seminars and classes are held to help people better embrace good virtues of life."

 

[Eddie Brock]

In all of Vicky's time away, I forgot what it was like to not be the only kid in the house. I also forgot what it was like to live with a girl. Anyway, I tell you this to explain why I'm standing outside the bathroom, waiting patiently with my towel over my shoulder. I'm not going to say it wasn't nice having the bathroom all to myself for so long, but I'm also not annoyed by Vicky's habits or anything. I know how to share.

The door opens, and Vicky steps out followed by a cloud of steam. She's not wearing any makeup - obviously - and I notice a cut on her lower lip. Also, there's what appears to be a bruise on her cheekbone, just below her eye. I guess I never noticed them before because she covered it up with makeup, but it's a little bit alarming.

"What's with the battle scars?" I ask concernedly.

Vicky is a little surprised that I noticed, so she hesitates. And that hesitation is all I needed to hear. "Oh, these?" she says in an attempt to sound casual. She rubs the cut on her lip. "I got involved in an intramural lacrosse league. Great exercise - and a lot of fun - but those girls can be crazy sometimes." She laughs lightly, and if I didn't know her so well, I might buy it.

As Vicky turns and heads for her bedroom, I linger at the door to the bathroom for a moment. When Vicky came home early, I was a little surprised and confused, but I didn't think much of it. However, at dinner that night, she seemed somewhat uncomfortable talking about school. I just figured she had a bad year or something. But now this?

Something's going on with my sister, and I intend on finding out what it is.

***

You're sure you cant come over 2night?

I frown as I read Brooke's text. I hate letting her down, but some things can't be avoided when you lead a double-life. Mantis hasn't gone on patrol in a couple of weeks. I've responded to distress calls when I can, but I haven't set aside time to specifically go out and find crime before it happens. Besides, I'm interested in testing out these new powers and seeing what exactly I can do. I pick up my phone to respond to Brooke.

Sorry. Psych project. You know how it is.

I do have a Psych project, but I finished it hours ago in preparation for tonight. I put down my phone and pick up my mask. Just as I'm about to leave, my phone vibrates on my desk. Man, girls can text fast. Oh well. Whatever Brooke said, it can wait. The night is calling, and I have a responsibility to answer.
​

 

[sabetoonth]

The door clicked and clacked on the other side of the portal before Mitchell swung it open.

“Hey Eli, come on in, I got an interview for ya lined up” Mitch motioned into his apartment, just outside his window you could make out the ruins of an apartment building and then the skyline. Mitch bee-lined into the kitchen of his apartment, sure wasn’t small, but wasn’t big either, just right for a single guy like Mitch. Though it lacked the chaos of Elijah’s apartment; it was clear few women stayed more then a night, if that long. “The job’s right up your ally pal, service industry” Mitchell continued, Elijah gave him a funny look. “What?” Mitchell’s friend simply shook his with a small smirk on his face.

“What kind of service?” Elijah stood in the front room waiting for his friend to ready himself for public presentation. he had been trying to get Elijah a job since he lost it at the paper as a journalist,; hed been interveiwed for jsut about everything, he had tried store clerk, dog catcher, and security guard, nothing stuck.

“Oh nothing, just some warehouse work” Mitch wrapped his tie around his neck and looped it.

“You’re ****ing me?” Elijah blurted out.

“Of course not, we both play for the same team.” The Elijah’s well dressed friend jested.

“Smart ass.” Elijah said plainly. “We need to get going, or we’ll both be late.” Stokes threw Mitch’s coat in his direction and he caught it.
“Nice throw man.”

 

[Mr. Majestic]

Couple of hours later Mark along with his father and his friend James were in the physical fitness area observing Mark as he was getting use to walking and other normal human functions again. As they are monitoring Mark, James looks over to Mr. Moore.

“Sir if you don’t mind may I ask you a question?”

A little grin appears on Jonathan face.

“It’s about how he’s acting isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I mean you have to admit sir he’s not really acting like his take charge kind of self. He really seems…normal.”

“You have it wrong James this is Mark as himself. What a lot of people don’t know is not only can Mark’s powers affect his body by giving him abilities but it can also affect his mind. When he was young Mark was torn apart trying to live a normal life and also trying to be the solider STRIKE always wanted. The situation was he needed to be two people. One that could be a normal boy and the other that can be the solider STRIKE wanted.”

It all then began to hit James.

“So in order to please everyone his powers kicked in and made a split personality, which explains a lot.”

“So now you know the secret that he has been keeping for so long.”

Before replying James began to think.

“There’s also another secret that he’s keeping.”

Jonathon looks James in the eye not fallowing what he was getting at.

“I don’t understand.” Jonathan replies.

“If what you say is true then something is wrong with Mark, his powers haven’t fully recovered. I’m assuming when he is around you he’s Mark but when he is around anyone from STRIKE he is Spartan. When he woke he told me to call him Mark. So it’s obvious his powers are on the frits.”

“Now that you mention it your right, I was so happy about the fact he finally woke I didn’t even think about that. He would have never told you to call him Mark if he was his normal self. You really are smarter than you look.”

“You have no idea.” Truth is James is one of earth’s top 5 for smartest person in the world.

About an hour later James and Mark and also his father was making there way out of the facility to head home. As they exited the doors Major Lee along with the rest of the Executioners stood outside in front of two issued STRIKE retainer vehicles.

“What is the meaning of this?” Jonathan asks.

“It simple…” Major Lee begins as he puts a cigar in his mouth and lights it. “…I’m here to get the governments property. You didn’t really think we were going to let you just take a break did you? You belong to us that life of you going to school and having friends is only because we allowed it. You can’t even wipe your own ass after taking a **** unless I give the command to do so.”

Marks father thought it might have come to this but he figured that maybe with all the good his son has done they would let him get this break after seeing how much this job has taken it’s toll on his son’s body.

“Officer Stewart apprehend Spartan.”

James stood there not knowing what to do. Spartan was more than his leader he was his friend and now that he knows the truth about his friend he doesn’t want to betray him.

“I’m sorry sir I can’t.”

“Officer Stewart I’m going to tell you one more time. Apprehend Spartan now or you will be going in the second vehicle.” Major Lee orders.

It is obvious by the look on James face that he is conflicted on what choice to make. He then places his hands on the shoulder straps on his book bag and press a button on each one. Then his armor came from out of his book bag and covers his body completely.

​

On his left arm James active his guns and thinks about aiming them at Major Lee and the Executioners but before he could do so Mark stops him.

“It’s okay James I know he put you in a tight spot but I’ll make the decision for you. *He then looks towards Major Lee* I have done everything to please you and STRIKE but not anymore, I’m finished.”

After those words were said Mark quickly grabs James from the back and throws him towards Major Lee and the others and takes off running.

As James is about to hit Major Lee everything in him wanted himself to let it happen but at the last second he fired up his jet boots and maneuver out of the way.

“Executioners after him now, bring him back by any means necessary.” Major Lee barks as Mark is running away.