"Call my name and save me from the dark,
Bid my blood to run before I come undone,
Save me from the nothing I've become."
-Evanescence, "Bring me to Life"
The wind rushed past his face as he swept through the sky, soaring high up over the buildings from the force of the swing. Releasing the grapple behind him and letting it retract, Nevermore grabbed his second launcher and fired it at the next building. His momentum pulled against the taught line, bringing him downwards again. Instinct. There was no thought in his movements. The vast empty spaces between the buildings of the city were as known to him as a sidewalk. It was here that he felt at one with the city, where he felt most at home, regardless of the chaos in his life. Here, swinging through the shadows, his watchful gaze over the people below, that he belonged. Here, this was his city.
The tracking device on his belt beeped louder as he drew closer. Just a short distance from King's Row, close to Galaxy City. The Fifth Street Church. A towering building of spires and stone angels, their heads bowed to the earth, following the blades of the swords they held under against their chests.
You're waiting for me....
Without a sound, Nevermore dropped to the roof. Rain had started to fall, gently at first, slowly getting heavier. It cooled his skin from the heat of the explosion that had nearly killed him and the rest of the Vigil. She was standing at the edge of the roof, down a long flat section flanked by angels looking in at them.
"Lady Chill." he said, emerging from the depths of shadow. She turned to him, porcelain beauty fallen into sadness. She was not wearing her mask.
"I think we can dispense with the formalities...Alan." she said, meeting his gaze. In her hand she clutched her katana, her body tensed and ready to strike at any moment. Alan walked slowly to her, pulling back his mask.
"You're coming with me." He stopped several feet away from her, a cold void between them now. His fingers instinctively found the position to trigger his claws, should he need them. Her eyes looked empty, hollow, not the vibrant emeralds he had fallen into so many times before. She didn't blink as rain streaked her face.
"You could come with me," she said, "You would do well in The Order." She stepped forward, her katana hanging loosely in her grip. "Think of it Alan, think of the good you can do with The Order's support. You could bring peace to this city."
"All The Order brings is death." Alan said, watching her eyes for any hint of emotion. "They sacrificed their own people just to try and kill me."
"I told them you'd escape, but they didn't believe me." she replied, "So I made a deal. If you survived, I got to offer you a chance to join us." Her eyes became wide with excitement, a cruel joy verging on madness. "This is not an offer given lightly, Alan. The Order will not show such mercy a second time. This city could be yours in a month." Her face softened a little, a sad smile coming to her, "Imagine if no-one ever had to suffer in this city again, if no more children had to cry in the night while their parents lie dying. You could bring that, Alan. If you let me help you."
His heart pounded at the memory of sharing his pain. She knew almost every secret Alan had, she knew his greatest torments, his most powerful fears. "But there would be no freedom." he said simply.
Lady Chill's laugh was like broken glass, "Freedom is an illusion, Alan. A fairy tale conjured to lull these people into allowing their superhuman masters to encase them in walls, police them at will, and make them believe it was oll their own choice. You know this as well as any, Alan." She kept saying his name. "Would you rather these people lived as sheep their whole lives? Or would you rather give them hope? Someone to believe in? Wouldn't you rather give them something deserving of their faith?"
Alan stared at her through the rain, clenching his fists. Even as he spoke, he saw her stance shift as she recognised he would not be swayed. "I already am."
A twitch of his fingers, and his claws sprang forth, meeting Su's katana blade as the first crack of lightning arced across the sky. Raw hatred burned in Su's cold eyes as they fought, sparks flying from their clashing blades. The pair whirled around one another like leaves in the wind, each trying desperately to gain the upper hand. Su leaped onto the stone wall along the edge of the roof and kicked Alan across the face, staggering him. She followed by leaping at him wither her katana. Alan ducked to the side and brought his foot up to meet her ribs, the force of the blow sending her back against the wall with a cry of air expelled from her lungs.
In an flash she was on her feet again, attacking his defences with a flurry of rapid strikes. He was growing tired. Alan had already fought dozens of men before this, and she was fresh. Through sheer endurance, she would beat him unless he could finish it. An overhand swipe glowed with reflected flashes of lightning. Alan caught the blade in his claws, twisting his wrist to snare the weapon. He pulled the sword and Su's stance down with his right hand, while slamming the base of his left palm into her face. The katana flew from her hands and clattered across the roof. Su spat blood as she recovered her stance. Alan's claws slid back into their compartments.
"A fair fight, Alan?" she said, smiling with red-stained teeth, "I'm surprised. You know you can't beat me. You know you still love me, and that is why you'll lose."
Alan snarled as he attacked, aiming for her stomach and shoulders with powerful punches. She defended well. The two fighters drew one another into a perfectly timed dance of attack, defence, and counter-attack. Then Alan broke through her defence and struck the joint where he had dislocated her shoulder only a few days ago. She screamed in pain. For a moment, Alan hesitated, fighting the urge to see if she was all right. Too late, he saw her leg rise into a kick.
Stupid
Alan felt his lip burst and counted himself lucky he didn't lose any teeth. Before he could open his eyes he felt another solid blow to the side of his head, then another. His vision blurred before him. He swung at the air but found it empty. Su landed a stamp-kick to his knee and he fell to the ground. To his right, he heard the teasing scrape of metal on stone, and knew Su had retrieved her sword. With a savage cry, Lady Chill smashed the butt of her katana into Alan's face, just barely catching the bone of his eye socket instead of the eye itself. Red flooded Alan's vision as he tried to stand. Through his one good eye, Alan saw her slowly draw back her blade. With a flash, she sliced across his chest, cutting deep beneath the kevlar. He tried to duck and weave between her strikes, but they caught his arm, then his leg, and finally a long slash along his stomach. He fell back against something cold, and was slammed against it by a solid kick. He felt something in his chest crack, and a coppery taste grew in the back of his mouth. Gasping for air, Alan grabbed at the cold stone behind him. Rain cascading down over him, washing the blood from his face, he looked up into the face of a stone angel. The rain ran down its face like tears as it seemed to mourn him, but unable to do anything to help. "Please...." he begged, reaching up to the angel in a haze of pain and fear.
Lady Chill's voice lingered in his ears as she watched him, a look of tortured pleasure on her face. "I told you Alan, you cannot beat me. And now, I'm going to have to kill you. I'm sorry."
She twisted his arm painfully and spun him with surprising force. Using her hips as leverage, she threw him down against a stained-glass skylight, sending him crashing through.
As he fell helplessly, he realised that Alan Drake could never defeat Lady Chill. Shadows folded in all around as he fell, and he took the darkness with him...
