!!!CANON BATTLE POST!!!
-=ACT TWO – ‘KANE'S CHAOS’=-
The Songbird’s wings tore chunks out of offices as it hit the ground right in front of Jackson and his retreating team, and right on top of their only healer whom had rejoined her unit and been sent on ahead of the main group in a failed attempt to put them between her and possible danger. The Commander’s masterstroke was executed perfectly.
“Nooooooo!” shrieked Brianna as she held her arms over her head, this action out of pure reflex as her mind reeled from what had happened to her friends and allies. When she thought to look about herself, Valorum had kept her unharmed and now she stood surrounded by twisted metal and fire.
At that moment, a quiet voice began to whisper through all active ITSDA earpieces.
"
V-vandal...Black Magic...someone...is anyone there? I-it's Brianna, Junior Medical Agent Brianna here...c-can anyone here me?”
“Shit!” yelled Frank Jackson.
”A…Agent Jackson, is that you?”
Before a replay could be given, a hand punched its way through the smoldering wreckage of the Songbird. It was not Meta’s, not Scrap’s, not Whisper’s, but Dieter’s. With one good pull, Dieter annihilated an entire section of the Songbird’s wall and stepped through the now gigantic hole.
“I had hoped you’d survive that,” said The Commander into Dieter’s earpiece. Dieter scoffed.
“A little warning would have been pertinent. No matter, we have virtually won the day.”
“And lost many brave souls… including theirs.”
Jackson knew Dieter and his powers. Though the pair had not fought directly in the past, Schwarze Augen’s presence was felt everywhere. The world-class commando had devoured every piece of reliable information about him that the ITSDA could get its hands on. A direct attack would be suicide. With his powers, even flanking was nearly impossible. Before Frank could figure out a plan of attack, he witnessed Dieter smirking as Ivan reappeared behind Jackson, who followed his enemy’s eyes well enough to dodge Ivan’s ion blast.
“Did you honestly believe you’d be rid of me after one little victory?” asked Ivan.
“I assure you, Sergeant, I am far more dedicated than that.”
The mysterious assassin generated what appeared to be a revolver and fired it. The odd little projectile that it fired hit the ground and a putrid gas continuously poured out of it. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, the legendary soldier fired an explosive bullet at a nearby window and rushed through it. Ivan gave chase while Dieter simply stood out of the way.
”Well that’s at least one minor annoyance avoided, so I might as well take this time to remove another…”
Dieter calmly reached into his suit jacket, removed a polished and expensive pistol, then suddenly turned on his heel to level the barrel at the young woman who had found her way to the oversized hole he’d made in exiting the smashed transport and was currently looking out it, and now also done the bore of his weapon.
"
No overblown speeches from me, girl. This is business, plain and simple. Goodbye."
BANG!
A gunshot rang out, but it was not from Dieter's gun.
A 50 Cal. round intercepted the Namidian's handgun, cutting through the weapon and shattering it on impact. Perhaps even more disturbing however, was the face that the crime boss’s face remained still and composed even in the aftermath of the unforeseen attack.
”Who...?” He wondered aloud, right before he saw the figure above him.
With a reaction speed unfitting of such a heavy-set man, Dieter dropped what was left of his sidearm and leaped backwards, out of the way as a 6'6" white-haired teenager hit the ground, a long rifle in his hands; there was a sickening shattering noise as his legs turned to splinter under his own weight.
”AW SHIT!” He exclaimed painfully, standing up as his legs cracked back into place. The murderous teenager was wearing jeans, a blood-red shirt, biker gloves with a row of silver studs, a Chicago White Sox baseball cap, and a leather vest.
”Kane. You have the worst timing.”"Dieter addressed the mass murderer evenly, as though holding a board meeting.. "
Why are you here?”</Mono>
Kane smiled.
”HEY! If it ain't Large-and-in-Charge! Don't mind me, I was just here to join the fun.” He glanced over his shoulder and winked at Brianna.
“Or I was, until I saw you threatening this little cutie.”
Brianna looked as understandably terrorized by her rescue as by the threat of death at Dieter's hands.
<
”Do you have any idea how wasteful it is to just shoot a pretty little thing like that? God!” He tossed his empty rifle aside.
”Well, this is the part where I beat you 'till you cry.”
Exactly as that sentence was finished, the two villains lunged at one another, their power building until Dieter's fist collided with Kane's hand with such force that loose dust was blown aside by a resulting shockwave.
”Puh-leez, Sievold.” Kane mimed a yawn, even closing his eyes. "
”Did you assume you knew everything I could do? Because it's not that simple.”
Dieter felt his arm being twisted, literally, by Kane, and though he fought, the force pushing his arm felt far stronger.
”Just 'cause I'm rolling six-sided dice don't mean that's what's on 'em. Naw, I go from 0 to 100 n*gga. REAL QUICK!”
Kane drove his knee into Dieter's stomach, head-butted the Namidian, and then let go of him, the man staggering back just before Kane spun, faster than even Dieter's reactions could follow, and struck him with a back-fist so brutal, Brianna cringed at the sight of it. Oddly, Dieter didn’t seem the least fazed by the attack, and even kept his balance without difficulty."
”How do you defeat a man,”
Just as Kane was about to attack again, Dieter regained his balance and swung. His fist made contact with Kane's jaw, but the other villain didn't even react, turning his head with the punch, but receiving no visible injury.
”Who can't die?"
Kane dropped to the floor in a blur, and delivered a haymaker toward Dieter’s chest far stronger than it should have been. Still the older man was able to turn to the side and miss all but a weak and glancing blow.
"
”You know what's funny, Dieter?” Kane asked, grabbing at Dieter’s throat but grabbing only air by seconds.
“I've just been distracting you long enough to steal your powers. Hah! Got you now, Old Man!"
Kane redoubled his effort and felt more of Dieter's soul tear away... was it just Kane's imagination, or were his reactions beginning to increase slightly?
"You Namidians put up a good fight! We should play more oft-"
Suddenly something lunged out from his impaired vision toward him, and he realized with a start that his reactions
were getting faster- everything else in his vision had slowed to a crawl, and the only thing that seemed to move with any kind of speed at all was the brick of mortar that had been fired from his opponent.
Kane didn't typically study the abilities of his prey, but he had enough stolen knowledge to realize that his increased reactions must have been one of Sievold’s abilities. He tried to dodge the attack, but his muscles didn't seem to respond as quickly as his mind, and he only barely managed to inch his face far enough away from the strike to avoid having his head blown clean off. His teeth were loosened and his vision shuddered with white-noise as a fist sized chunk of brickwork grazed his skull; and Kane's healing factor fought hard to keep him conscious.
Even in a haze, Kane could see the outline of Dieter advancing toward him at an even tread. Dieter’s pupils were narrowed to furious pinpricks of concentration as they focused on Kane with unwavering attention. As Kane watched the man caught a falling piece of debris dislodged by the Songbird from the air as it almost fell onto him, and hurled it at the boy with a snarl of effort.
"Play stupid games, win stupid prizes, kid. I'm ending your little power trip here!"
The polite and reserved mask that Dieter usually wore had finally fallen away, and the statement came out as a hiss through gritted teeth. In this fight Dieter couldn't afford complacency- and against a foe like Kane he didn't need to pretend to be something he wasn't.
Kane smiled grimly at the attack, it was gratifying to see his opponents get hot under the collar, but probably not the greatest idea in the world. The psychopath didn't like to admit how close the fight was becoming, and he decided to take Dieters lead and press his offensive- the fight had been dragging on for too long, but if he dropped his guard and flew into a full attack he was sure he'd be able to steal the Namidian's Gifts for himself, and still leave time to claim the souls of Briannna's and Frank as well. All he had to do was win this one last clash, and he could double- no,
triple- his stolen Gifts in a single fight. He'd have the power he craved, and not the muted temporary Gifts he'd stolen off his other foes- he'd have
real power!
He gathered the remains of what abilities he'd stolen from Dieter in front of himself, and met the Namidian's attack with a telekinetic shield of his own. The air before Kane froze still, and shuddered violently as it deflected several tons of force that would have otherwise reduced him to meat jam. Dieter charged forward and slashed him arm down to follow up his ranged attack with a hammer punch- and for a moment the two wrestled their Gifts against one another as Kane tried to maintain his shield against Dieters telekinetic strike.
"You! I LIKE your Gifts!" Kane taunted.
"Super-vision, super-shields AND super-strength! I've always wanted to pimp-slap someone so hard they explode! Ever do that?!"
Despite his inane taunts the cold beads of sweat forming on Kane's brow told Dieter that he was having trouble matching his telekinetic shield with stolen power alone. Dark smoke coiled its way up Kane's arms as he tried to bring his other Gifts into the struggle, but it was clear that using multiple Gifts at once wasn't as simple as the killer'd first thought.
"Of course I have. Many times."
Suddenly Kane felt the pressure on his telekinetic shield double, then quadruple! With a panic he realized that Dieter had still been holding back- and whatever he'd been able to steal amounted to nothing next to the man’s full power. Dieter's thin smirk broke into a full mad grin as Kane's eyes widened in shock. The pressure on his shields doubled yet again...
"...Let me demonstrate."
Kane's shields broke. The physical and mental effort he'd used to try and juggle his many Gifts, and to keep Dieters attack in check, made him gasp as it was overcome- and an instant later Dieter’s palm slammed into his skull with enough mentally assisted strength behind it to send the boy literally head over heels into the air; at the apex of his arch he was several times above the skyline of the town, before his form went crashing down somewhere roughly around where the American soldiers were.
For all the power he had used, still the Namidian had held back. After all, even a rabid dog could be useful, if it saw your enemies before it spotted you…
Dieter released a long ragged breath that he'd been holding, and wiped the blood off his striking hand onto the remains of his ruined suit. He took a generous few seconds to regather himself, and shake off the adrenalin of the fight; savoring the pull of his overtaxed muscles and the growing headache of overusing his abilities like a fine cigar. His broken knuckles in particular sent a thrill of pain through him. Eventually, he picked his way through the totaled part of town to the recess where he knew Brianna had taken cover from his destructive fight.
"I do apologize for the interruption... now, where were we?"
Dieter sneered as he found his place again.
"Ah yes. Of course."
Mr. Sievold raised his hand threateningly toward Brianna.
"Ahhh! No!"
The young agent-in-training raised her hands to defend herself, and managed to summon her Gift to douse Dieter in bright gold flames- but with her Gift weakened from Valorum saving her during the transport’s crash, and her own understandably overtaxed nerves, the attack wasn't enough to do more than drive the Namidian back a step or two as he dodged the searing holy flames.
"Stay back! Or else I'll... or... "
Her threat caught in her throat indecisively; Even defending her life Brianna couldn't bring herself to imagine killing someone; that vicious streak simply wasn't in her nature. She could feel Valorum bristling with rage at the edge of her unconscious, furious at Dieter but also at the fact though he was almost ready to reemerge it might prove to be even a scant few seconds too late.
"You'll what?"
The Namidian retorted.
"You have a powerful Gift. I will admit. If you weren't so inexperienced you may even be a credible threat, someday. That's why I'm ending you no-"
Dieter was interrupted as a flow of rubble was disturbed behind him, and Brianna gave a start of shock to stare at someone behind him. Sievold spun on his heel expecting either Kane or Frank to have recovered from one of their injuries far faster than he'd anticipated, at locked eyes with the old warhorse himself. The villain looked at the twin Devastators aimed at him, and calmly reached up to straighten what remained of his tie.
”Ivan?”
”Busy elsewhere for the moment.”
Dieter nodded, his mask of placidness once more in place, and stood waiting for Frank to make the first move; he didn’t have long to bid his time. Jackson filled the air with explosive bullets; he cut off nearly all possible escape routes. But Dieter jumped out of the way each time, using the perfect move at the precise time at which it would be most useful. Sergeant Jackson froze all the ground beneath him as he continued firing explosives, further reducing Dieter’s movement. Dieter smirked as each round missed him, figuring like Kane the sergeant was letting his ego do the thinking for him. Yet that was not the truth, for the battle hardened hero knew his opponent was fast, even faster than the pull of a trigger thanks to intel studied in the past; but light was too fast for even him. The girl, the very one Dieter so casually dismissed as a threat, was the very key to Frank’s plan. She could start the rush; she could break through.
“Jump, Delta! Brianna, Valorum, on my mark!”
Jump disappeared; even The Commander’s radar was confused by his movements. He rapidly hopped back and forth all around the city. Valorum finally connected again with Brianna, and the two friends spoke in her mind away from the horrible chaos of battle.
“You’ve got one choice left, kid. And you need to make it quickly. Remember my words.”
“I can’t! No, there’s got to--”
“Enough! Cowardice won’t save you. When he gives the command, you must say it.”
“I wanted… to save people.”
“And you will.”
“I wanted to save you, too…”
“I am your will. If that returns, so will I…”
The glorious knight of light manifested, placed his hand upon Brianna’s shoulder, and bore her away not only to safety from what she also could not bear to witness.
“Valorum, engage!"
“It’s now or never, angel.” Brianna wrapped her arms around him, soaking his gauntlet in tears that turned to puddles of golden dust upon hitting his armor.
“Then it’s now… I’m ready.”
“Then so am I,” Brianna’s protector slipped away from her, turned his back on his ward, and took off at incredible speed. He charged forward, unsheathed his sword in front of Dieter, and raised it to the sky.
“Is that supposed to intimidate me? Your tired brand of chivalry died for a reason, you know."
Less than a mile away, Brianna’s eyes, hands, and aura gradually filled with scorching bright light as she recited a poem. As she spoke, Valorum shouted out the words he knew she was saying. Cracks appeared all over his armored form.
“I am light, in mind and form. Shadows die within my storm. As I spread across the realm, evil shall be overwhelmed. Let today my spirit spread, let my living form be shed!”
Valorum Firezne imploded into a sphere of light that expanded into a mushroom cloud of golden energy. Though Dieter had found cover behind a door, it did not save him. The immense light blinded him while heat scarred him all over. In desperation, he tore his fine suit off of his burning skin and desperately crawled toward better cover.
“Ahhhhhh!” screamed Dieter.
“Ivan, retrieve me!”
His associate did not answer, as both Sievold and Frank Jackson were consumed by the warrior’s sacrificial light. Just as Dieter had enough strength left to issue a command, so too did the field commander of this ITSDA mission.
“Jump – move in!”
Moments later, when the light began to dim, Jump silently appeared behind Dieter. He pulled Black Magic’s fifth ace from his sleeve and slung it at the blinded villain near his feet. Dieter appeared to “fall” into the card as it touched his skin. Before the card hit the ground, Dieter’s image adorned its face in place of the standard suit symbol. Jump picked up the slightly burnt card and slid it in his pocket.
“Dieter’s down,” said the hero.
“What’s next?”
“Brianna,” said Jackson as his immolated remains struggled to their feet.
“Help her.”
“Confirmed,” said Jump. He appeared in front of the young woman, who appeared to be in shock.
“Agent Invictus, we need your help.”
Brianna was borderline catatonic, simply staring at what remained of the world in front of her.
“Brianna! Brianna! Vandal, Scrap, Whisper, Meta, they need you!”
Brianna's eyes shifted position and she made a valiant effort at looking toward him. Although that was the only answer she gave, Jump took her by the hand. He and she reappeared together within what little remained of the Songbird.
Emotionlessly, even lifelessly, Brianna took a turn at healing each of the heroes. Meta, her first patient, rose to his feet almost immediately. Vandal, her second, took some time; her wounds from the attack aboard and crash of the Songbird came within inches of killing her via blood loss. Whisper, her third, began to breathe after two minutes’ worth of energy fell into him. But he would not wake, no matter how hard she tried. Her fourth, Destroyer, reeled back to punch the woman who saved her life, but lacked the strength to even hit her. And Scrap, her last, remained cold and lifeless even as she performed CPR on him with her healing hands. Finally, she tore off a bit of her blouse’s sleeve and draped it over his head.
“None of you are in any condition to fight,” she said, keeping her head down and refusing to look at her teammates.
“Sit this one out.”
“Sorry girly,” said Vandal, who limped a little as she eyed the door.
“Duty calls.”
Vandal sped off into the night. Across town, the bloodthirsty terror known as Kane laid atop the very rocket launcher that slew the Songbird. Hiding in plain sight using a camouflage Gift he nabbed from some Namidian flunky, Kane was literally munching on popcorn when he saw the mighty blast of light engulf an entire block. The relative silence that followed the explosion was intolerable. It’s over?! It was just getting good!
“That’s it?! I go through all the effort to set the scene for a flashy final showdown, and then big, bad boss man goes down like a bitch? Fuck, man: I’ll make my own fun.”
The driver beneath him gasped as Kane generated a massive army of illusions with one careless wave. The illusions were an undead legion whose ancient uniforms barely clung to their skeletal forms. Each soldier in the army of the dead sported decaying, early 21st century weapons splashed with blood.
“What the fuck?! What the fuck?” shouted a sweating rookie, who turned tail and ran.
“It’s some kind of Gift trick,” said the army’s commanding officer.
“Take ‘em out and they’ll fall like anyone else.”
Bullets, missiles, and lasers crashed into Kane’s illusions. The insane teenager chuckled as he gave the army a moment of hope by letting his legion get torn apart by their attacks. But he then generated an armored, undead giant and let him rampage through the army of the dead with impunity. The soldiers scattered and retreated from the beast, but regrouped quickly.
“Pin ‘em down! We need heavies, now!”
Even while the officer’s men focused all their fire on the beast’s legs and head, Kane burst onto the scene! He dropped his camouflage in front of the army and threw kunai off in every direction. He threw himself in front of a machine gun, only to teleport away the moment it fired and let his enemies do the killing for him! Kane laughed out loud when he saw the horrified look on a private’s face as he slaughtered his best friend.
He teleported to the rear of the army and generated a huge flamethrower using what remained of Ivan’s abilities. The sheer heat of the white-hot flames melted tanks into piles of molten steel and titanium and flash-fried any fool stupid enough to stand in its way. The illusions were gone now, but the army knew they had given way to a terrible reality.
“I know what you’re asking,” whispered Kane as he appeared in front of a wide-eyed medic whose uniform was drenched in sweat.
“And the answer is no – I won’t spare you!”
The thrill-seeking psychopath kicked the medic to the ground and turned to face an armored column off in the distance.
“Or maybe I will. I don’t even know yet! Isn't that great?”
Over the course of the next ten seconds, Kane generated a rapid-fire rocket launcher and “cleaned house” with a massive chain of explosions. While he did so, the medic screamed in horror and desperately tried to crawl away. A burning piece of tank shrapnel slapped the white-haired wildman in the face, but Kane just grinned.
“Dude, wanna know the best part of this?”
In a ridiculous attempt to placate the terror, the medic mouthed the word “yes.”
“Watching you just sit there and take it while I murder your friends,” Kane paused to give his victim time to react. The medic simply muttered “no” under his breath and turned away.
“'Least one of you’s smart enough to look out for number one! Hey, you want to see me do your job better than you? Watch this shit man!!”
The veins across his arm became pitch-black, and he placed his hand in the air before the unit he’d just killed.
"They say you only have one life to live..." His other hand glowed red briefly.
”I say BAH HUMBUG!” Kane shouted, grabbing his own arm and reversing the vortex.
A horrifying pain ripped through his limb as the life-force was torn from him and given to others.
"AHHH!" He screamed.
That scream seemed to jolt his former victims awake. They sat up, rubbing their heads in confusion as Kane once more looked to the medic whose complexion was now pale white as a result of what he’d just seen.
"Now what am I forgetting? Man there’s always something, you know what I mean? Let me see now; be be unbelievably good looking? Check. Raise my own personal army? Got a start on that. Oh wait, now I remember! No witnesses."
He smiled at the man before him, lashed out a hand, and in a single stroke caved in the medic’s windpipe. Kane then looked at his modest horde, and pretended to twirl a non-existent mustache.
”Now my minions, we shall conquer the world! BWAHAHAHAHA! But seriously, can you guys give me some space here? I mean I know I’m your lord and master and all that, but I don’t want you cramping my style in case some ladies come on by, you know what I’m saying? Now get gone, go practice your shambling or something until I need you.”
Kane’s new followers did just as they were told, and left him to contemplate what fun things he could next entertain himself with; while he was distracted in thought, Vandal cranked his head back at approximately 50 mph. The whiplash was immense, enough to snap the young serial killer’s neck until his head came loose. But his muscles gradually stitched themselves back together and he beamed at the frantic, frazzled 20-something girl who just tried to rip his head off.
“Aww, a babe! Now it’s a party,” Kane slicked his hair back as he spoke. At the same time, a swirling portal wrapped itself around his hand and started to grow.
“Kane Isiah Armani, you’re coming with me,” said Vandal, her voice clear and gaze unyielding.
“You got that right, honey,” the flirtatious freak winked at his prey. Vandal’s steely, determined face rusted and she backed away slowly. Kane teleported in behind her and grabbed her from behind. The monster pressed a blade to her throat just hard enough to draw a frightening amount of blood. Vandal paused for only a moment; Armani gave a toothy smile as his vortex began pulling in the kicking, screaming woman’s soul.
“Good girl. Now--”
The experienced agent twisted her body around until she was but a blur; her arms and legs hit Kane with explosive force. Kane pulled back his blade and swung it at her neck, but Vandal knocked him back through the wall behind him with a literally burning elbow! She then dug in to “Special K” with burning fists, rapidly hammering him as though her fists were turbo-charged pistons. Kane swung and squirmed, but just couldn’t keep up.
The ITSDA’s one-woman assault team somersaulted back until she was nearly out of sight. She was an ant down the road one second. One second later, she was burning cloud headed straight for his head. But Kane saw her coming; using her own speed against her, he rolled beneath her and knocked her up into the clouds with one brutal uppercut!
THWAAAAAAAAK!
“Oooh,” said Kane, drawing kunai from his belt and machine-gunning them at her using her own Gift.
“This is fun. I’m keeping this."
The falling special agent artfully rotated and swung around the line of kunai hurled at her. She then grabbed some of the knives that flew past her head and hurled them back at her attacker. After a few rounds of this, the kunai exploded into shrapnel when they cracked against the ground. Kane leapt up after her, kicking his legs to propel himself to her position. Vandal blocked her face with her arms. Just as the cocky young brat swung at her with his own flaming fist, Vandal slipped under him. Before Kane could stop, Vandal spin-kicked him through a tank husk! Tank shells and machine gun bullets exploded and boiled the young man’s skin; the half of his face that wasn’t yet stripped of its flesh grimaced.
“That’s how you use my Gift, man!” said Vandal, taunting him with a bow.
“Motherfucker,” said Kane as he carelessly lifted himself up out of the wreckage, ignoring the metal spike that tore through his lungs as he moved. His broken bones popped their way back into place while he held his lungs in with his hand. In his other, outstretched hand, atoms gathered around a nearly subatomic uranium core.
“You wanna play rough, bitch? Well this little ball’s nuclear,” His open palm was now filled with a baseball-sized black sphere.
“And I’m gonna use your Gift to slam dunk it into a city.”
Vandal stepped back and leaned down. In her mind, she was reeling back to strike like a scorpion. Kane licked his lips slowly enough for his lips to get drenched in saliva. He jumped forward and waved his bomb-filled hand at Vandal, who flinched.
“Nuh-uh, careful. It’s as unstable as I am,” Kane giggled mockingly at his own joke. Vandal finally charged him, nearly crushing his forearm in his hand.
Kane forced himself forward and chomped down on Vandal’s ear.
“Ayhhhhhh!” screamed Vandal as her ear fell silent and her head rung with pain. She let go of “Special K” and Kane did a mile-high running jump. At the peak of his leap, he tossed the bomb at the heart of a nearby metropolis.
“Go fetch!” shouted Kane. Vandal pushed herself to the limit to keep up with the bomb, tearing half the street apart and shattering building’s windows as she sped through the city.
The platinum-headed terror stretched his arms and yawned. But after a little while, something appeared out of the corner of his eye. Sergeant Frank Jackson; legendary soldier and that Ivan bastard’s favorite target. He’d be fun to fight; shit, he’d be a fun soul to steal! Kane thought of the power, thought of having triple the healing factor and access to all sorts of fun knowledge. He’d get a peek at every chick the gruff badass ever went to bed with! Kane was already hurting, but Vandal’s speed was helping his healing. He was ready for this; eh, he would be ready for this. He’d just give it a second…
Sergeant Jackson had already spotted Kane, but was waiting for his target to make the first move. He knew, from decades of experience, that brats like Kane threw themselves into battle without even the faintest idea of the tactical mistakes they were making. But he didn’t. Instead, the power-mad child just stood there, staring at the renowned warrior hungrily.
“Boy, don’t even play. I got your friend’s powers and just nuked a place. You don’t want this. Or maybe you do. You’ve lived a long time, probably tired of that shit by now. I would be,” said Kane, cracking his neck and cringing while molecule-thin knives burst from the tips of his fingers.
“’Course you would. You can’t see it,” a plan of attack was being rearranged in Frank Jackson’s mind. Kane’s partial theft of Vandal’s Gift changed things a bit. But he could still make it work. He just needed to rope him in and nab one of his big guns. Ivan was smart; he knew these powers better than Kane. And even he fell for basically the same trick.
“Oh, a lecture; never heard one of those before.”
“All I know is: there’s more to life than its end. No matter how hard you try, and I have, you can’t escape that. You’re not an explosion, Kane. And you’re not death itself, come for us all,” Frank laughed while staring directly into Kane Isiah Armani’s eyes. Futuristic-looking, miniaturized cannons tore themselves out of the top of Kane’s wrists as the boy rolled his eyes.
“You’re one of us; you need love, hope, compassion, and all that mushy shit. So come get me; maybe your plan to scream and kick ‘till you get some attention will finally work!”
“Gladly!” shouted Kane as tackled Frank and used his knives and Vandal’s speed to burrow into his flesh and intestines in less than a second. Like some sort of mad chef, he ripped organs out of his target and then sliced them to bits while his “meat” was still alive. When Sergeant Jackson’s head began to move, Kane slapped it back with a 300 mph cannonball. He then rolled back and pelted Jackson with them, flashing a toothy grin whenever he heard the delicious sound of bones being crunched.
After less than a minute of this, Jackson fell limp. Kane strolled up to him, lifted his head, and forced one of the hero’s eyes open. He then knelt down and tilted his head.
“I could do this all day and you won’t die. I love your healing factor!”
To punctuate his point, Kane sliced off Jackson’s right arm and kicked it across the street. From the looks of things and the gurgling noises, the pitiful Sergeant was no longer a threat. Still Kane kept going, sloppily removing Jackson’s eye and crushing it beneath his heel. That little bit of showboating cost Kane valuable seconds; Jackson blasted him back with a straight to the gut. A livid Kane jumped at Jackson, only to eat a low blow from his knee.
“Ohh, you’re funny,” said Kane as he threw his arm down to guard the affected area.
“So’s he,” said Jackson, pointing his head behind Kane. “Lord Death of Murder Mountain,” as he occasionally called himself, wasn’t falling for it. He spun around at Vandal’s speed and spotted a trembling, yet enraged Jump directly behind him, aiming a gun for his head! Kane stuck out his tongue and madly giggled in Jackson’s face.
“Oh no, he’ll kill me. Ha-ha-ha!”
Jump fired. Kane ran backwards, ducked under the bullet, and spiked it over his own head like a volleyball. The gun and the bullet fell to the street; the agent wasn’t there! Kane looked back; Jump was grabbing Jackson! The duo disappeared in to the night. Kane dashed after them. A thick cloud of chemical smoke appeared about a mile away.
“Told ya’ it wouldn’t kill him,” said a sitting Jackson, who handed off belts full of armed smoke grenades as Jump repeatedly teleported across the block, then back to him.
“I know, but if there was a chance--” Jackson threw one final smoke bomb down near their feet. The whole area around the house they stood upon was caked in a thick layer of smoke.
“There wasn’t. Focus. The grunts we have left are sitting ducks without these. Kane will go after them if he can’t find us. We need to end this, now.”
“How?”
“Encirclement,” said Jackson as he handed Jump the grip of one of his Devastator pistols and set it to “freeze.” Jump halfheartedly saluted and teleported away. An almost healed Frank Jackson jumped down into the thick cloud of smoke that enveloped the street below.
A shadow darker than the smoke cut through the clouds, doing ten dozen laps around the block in the span of four seconds. He would find them and kill them. It wasn’t a matter of if, just a matter of when. Kane didn’t like to wait, never had.
“Olly olly oxen free!” said Kane, who dispersed one cloud instantaneously with a million little waves of his hands. There was nothing. He moved on to the next one. Nothing; nothing nothing nothing nothing! Suddenly, he heard a whisper in the shadows and slid toward it. Frankie!
Three “snowballs” knocked the air out of him, freezing his arms and legs in position. He shook it off with the friction his super speed granted him. But by the time he did, Jackson fired five rounds at him. Dang, that was quick for human speed! Kane backhanded the explosive shells, whistling innocently as Frank barely rolled out of the way of the explosions.
Having learned from his previous mistake, Kane lunged at Jump. He slammed the young agent’s head into the ground, stunning him so that he couldn’t escape! Hearing the clunk of Sergeant Jackson’s army boots as he raced toward his downed comrade, Kane turned toward him.
“He won’t survive thi--”
An explosive round hit the back of Kane’s throat, sending his molten flesh flying everywhere. The Immortal soldier capitalized immediately. Rapid-fire jabs to the head, elbow to the crevice of an arm, kicks that knocked the monster’s legs out from underneath him, and three bullets to the brain. The boy started seizing and foaming at the mouth. But even in that state, he growled and swiped his finger-knives across Frank’s neck. Jackson gasped as he wrestled the rabid dog to the ground. But the killer wouldn’t quit. Another cannonball knocked Jackson off of him. Kane mindlessly ran to Jackson as Jump staggered to his feet.
“Jump, hit me!”
“What?”
“Just do it!”
Kane leapt up into the air and stuck his knives out downwards, hoping to dig into Jackson’s brain. But the hero rolled out of the way at the last second and “Lord Death’s” knives got stuck in the concrete. This didn’t stop him, but it slowed him down just long enough for Jump to drown him in ice. Jump kept firing until the clip was empty; as soon as he heard the click, Jackson hit the struggling teenager’s head with a running kick that would make any soccer player jealous. Ice snapped and shattered as the kid fell. Frank jumped on him. And in one smooth motion, the man once called “War” by terrified enemies snapped Kane’s wrist back.
“I know what you’re thinking,” said Frank as he shoved his enemy’s wrist through his head.
“And you’re right. You shouldn’t have pissed me off.”
Jump vomited at the disgusting squishing sounds. Frank finished the job by pulling out a large combat knife, and chopping all of Kane’s limbs off.
“You’re right, kid,” said Frank.
“It’s gross. Hope you never have to see it again. Take him in.”
“But he’s--”
“No, he isn’t.” Nearly invisible arteries and capillaries started growing, like wiggling worms emerging from the dirt, out of the holes in his shoulders. Meanwhile, droplets of bone-colored liquid began dripping down his exposed, fractured skull, gathering in the holes where bone just was. Jump, with careful movements and a great deal of trepidation, pressed his hand to what remained of Kane’s head. Jump vanished and reappeared in front of an ITSDA prison transport, one of several on standby awaiting any captured prisoners from the battle in Gaultown. The young hero was once more off to help in the fight, leaving other agents behind to deal with the villain.
Meanwhile, above the skies of Toledo, Vandal had almost caught up with Kane’s nuke. The orb spun wildly as it sailed downward in a huge, catapult-like arc.
“Alright, Vandal. You’re nearing the bogey,” said Meta, who was using a device he cobbled together from the Songbird’s remains to speed up his voice.
“Satellite data from your fight with Kane suggests the design is similar to a Namidian NA-48 Type C.”
“The point, Brian!”
“It booms milliseconds after contact. You can’t hold this thing, Vandal. You’ll have to toss it.”
“How far?”
“Well into the lower stratosphere.”
“I can’t do that, Bry! Not fast enough. Gimme another way!”
“You can. Launch yourself when it’s four miles ahead and hit it at a 30 degree angle. Won’t even hit space trash.”
“Four miles?! I can’t keep up with it now!”
“Don’t bother with taxiing before your takeoff; ricochet off the buildings and you’ll get above it. Then let gravity help you descend and pull up just before contact.”
“Easy for you to say! If I fail, everyone dies!”
“I know,” said Meta, who slumped back in his chair and sighed while he covered his eyes.
“But it’s the only way.”
Behind him, a nearly catatonic Brianna stood up and ripped the headset off of Meta.
“You can do it, Vandal. Jill takes the best of us. And she chose you for a reason. I couldn’t, you can. And you will.”
Vandal halted her motion at this and watched the ball fall through the sky. What seemed like an eternity for her was really less than a nanosecond. She dropped herself to the ground as the ball hit the three-mile mark. She then reeled back and eyed it carefully. The instant it was four miles ahead, she began running. She sprinted up a building, kicked off a window, kicked off a roof, and spread herself out. She fell in an aerodynamic pose, with her arms straight out ahead, as she “swam” diagonally downward toward the deadly orb. She kicked the air with ferocity unmatched by any propeller, any bird, or any jet. She fought through the pain, forcing herself onward as her muscles pulled apart and slid off of her bones.
The ball was now less than a mile away from its target. She spun forward, launched herself upward, and batted the nuclear weapon into space with the palm of her hand. The orb contracted as she hit it and began to explode. But she smacked it away hard and fast enough for only the most minuscule portion of the blast wave to hit her. Half her face and arm were hit with third degree burns and she drifted slowly to the ground. The world above her felt like it was spinning so fast it made her dizzy. Though she fell, she fell with practiced grace. With the last of her energy, she slowed her fall with faint waves of her arms and legs. Though she fell back first, the impact was barely noticeable.
“She actually did it,” said Meta.
“The probability of my plan succeeding was…”
“Frank, bring me to her. I won’t have more blood on my hands today!”
“Jump, we need an EVAC on Vandal, stat,” said Jackson.
“Sir!” responded Jump.
Frank Jackson lit a cigar as a mushroom cloud loomed off in the distance. The mission did not go as well as he had hoped, but it was not a failure. The Commander certainly slipped through their fingers, but his forces were decimated, SA was damaged, Gaultown was exposed, Kane was captured, Ivan absent for at least the moment, and the Namadians in general sent running. Jackson would use this victory; he’d make sure it led to the ITSDA winning this war. He’d be damned if the deaths of those soldiers who gave their all to keep the world safe for one more day would be in vain.
Closer to Toledo, an army photographer snapped a picture of the mushroom cloud over the city.
“Open the latest images folder,” said a clear voice that spoke with absolute certainty and authority. The reporter did as he was told. His folder was full of photos of the battle; the fields of dead soldiers and wreckage, Vandal flying after the nuclear orb, a long distance shot of Sergeant Frank Jackson and Kane standing across from each other, and the mushroom cloud.
“Good, now upload these images to the following websites…” said The Commander from inside a backup APC he had stashed somewhere on the base. A suspiciously fist-shaped hole had been punched into the back of the chair upon which he sat. He gritted his teeth as he spoke. Though the battle had been disastrous, it would not be a complete loss. No, The Commander did not believe in such a thing. Even horrible losses can and would lead to strategic victory, so long as you knew how to use them. He grimaced at a horrible thought that came to him; Dieter would be proud of this bit of slanderous trickery he was about to pull. But he put it out of his mind. Thoughts like that often came to him in moments of defeat; and he would rise above them, just as he always did. He had to, for the future of his people and the glory of Namidias.
Deep within the army’s secret Gaultown base, Emily Nigma was holding a phone to her ear while she finished typing at a computer. The screens before her showed satellite footage of the battle complete with a sidebar of detailed statistics, including movement speed and estimated durability (measured in pounds of force).
“Yes Dieter, all of it,” she said, removing a USB drive from the computer.
“I must say, I was not impressed with your doppelganger’s performance. He might just spill all of our little secrets.”
“Now, now, Miss Nigma. You know I know better than that,” said Dieter.
“Perhaps,” said Nigma.
“Your secondary plan was downright ingenious. Now we understand everything about them and their limitations…”
“And next time, thanks to you,” said Dieter.
“We will be more than ready to use that knowledge to our benefit.”
“Oh, stop it,” said Nigma with poorly-disguised contempt as she held her head up with her hand.
“You’re making me blush.”
“Yes, well, you should be going…though the soldiers won’t return, there will be an investigation”
“I’m aware of that, sir,” Emily Nigma picked up her flash drive and sashayed out of the high-tech computer room protected by a retinal scanner and a heavy steel door.
“Don’t worry, all evidence of my intervention has been incinerated. They’ll never know we hit them.”
Kane was having nightmares. Not the typical 'guilty conscious' nightmare that other people suffered, no, Kane never had
those... Kane was plagued with recurring visions of waking up handcuffed within a prisoner Transport vehicle, throwing up huge quantities of blood from his lungs, and suffering a seizure before falling back into dreamless sleep. He'd lived this nightmare a dozen times now, but on the thirteenth he was was mildly surprised to stay awake. After a moment he realized what had happened.
"I'm alive. Neat!" Kane struggled with his handcuffs to feel his head as far as he could reach, marked by rough scars that served as souvenirs from his battles with Dieter, Vandal, and Frank. He glanced back at the manacle.
"I'm a prisoner. Shit!"
The back of the prison transport vehicle was empty, save for himself, and an ankle deep pool up blood around his feet. He jingled his handcuffs irately to make sure they were properly secured. They were, of course.
"Hel-l-l-o-o-o-... Anyone there?!" No answer.
"Well, I'm just gonna... One sec'-"
Kane gathered his Gifted strength and clenched his hand, he drew his arm back and bunched his muscles as he prepared to snap the steel chain clear off the wall. He'd break his wrist doing so, of course, but that was hardly an issue for someone like him...
*BRZZZAAAPPpp!*
"AUGHHH! AHHHH! FUCKI- AHHHH!"
Something had just sent several thousand volts into his neck, and the elecric spasms had disrupted his train of thought. When the shocks finally abated he found himself gasping for air and wrestling with a pounding headache.
"Oh, great! The Inhibitor works! I was worried for a minute there..."
A voice sounded across the Vans intercom. It was female and perky, but not one that Kane knew offhand.
"The shit was that?!" He complained to the empty van. Suddenly this wasn't so much fun anymore.
"What the hell is this?!"
"That. Mister Armani. Was a prototype ITSDA inhibitor. Through means which I don't feel like disclosing to you it's able to detect when a subject uses their Gift, and, well... inhibit them."
Kane growled in frustration and pulled at his manacles again. On any other day he might make a joke about totally being into having some domme chick handcuff in the back of some strange van, but the situation suddenly seemed incredibly serious. Being chained down AND having his Gifts taken away from him? Nah. Fuck that. Kane had worked too hard acquiring his Gifts just to have them taken away.
"So- your toy knows when I'm trying to escape, yeah?"
Kane rolled his shoulders. He felt something sitting on the back of his neck- presumably it was whatever was shocking him. He diverted his eyes to the handcuffs again and searched for Scraps memories amongst his own, as he tried to use his latest gift. He'd only gotten it a few hours ago- and possibly the ITSDA didn't know that he'd acquired it yet.
"Did you know I could do THI-" *BRZAAAAPpp!* "AUUUUGHHH! AAAHHHH!"
"Yes. We did. We've planned for everything."
Kane could smell burning flesh. He was fairly certain it was his own, but the sudden appearance of a splitting headache made it hard to be certain.
"The inhibitor you're wearing is a prototype, and I'm legally obliged to ask you not provoke it. Once you're transferred to Maine you will be placed in Incarceration, and fitted with a less... intrusive... version of the device."
Kane slumped back in his seat and tried to focus his double vision. Something that the voice had said made him grin though- and suddenly he didn't mind his unpleasant situation so much.
"Maine, huh? You're taking me to your little 'facility', then?" He spoke quietly so as not to be too obvious to his Wardens, although in truth he didn't care what they knew.
"Prison might be fun..." A mad smile crept across his face as a few colorful ideas passed his mind...
FIN.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:06, Sun 05 June 2016.