when all is well within paragon city, you will often see groups of heroes talking, drinking, generally hanging out, just like everyone else.....well besides the fact they're wearing spandex or armour, or even nothing for some of them. for many the sight of living shadows is perturbing, to say the least, and as such Fury was not as welcomed among the populace. it was felt his powers were too dangerous.
Fury had become an exile, a Recluse. but not by exclusion from the populace. not by pressure from the other heroes. he felt that he himself was too dangerous to be around people.
it had been neerly four years since that one fateful day. the day when his world came crashing down around him. when his supergroup, his friends, his family had died. the day the invasion of the rikti had began. the day when the shadows were sparked within.
'your younger than you look' was what maz had once said. but he had aged since then. gracefully some would say. at their first meeting after the incident, Sparrow had told him he seemed much older. 'i guess she was rite' mused Fury. he had been a hero before the incident, given his strength and stamina, not to mention his sword and armour from a highly advance nanotechnology. "a gift from the collumn" he said, only to himself, a wry smile passing across his lips. he was stronger now, like a pressence had passed into him, something ancient. his white hair and beard would make many think he was far older than he was. "barely seventeen" sighed a soft voice from behind him "and yet so alone, so full of grief." he didnt have to turn to know who it was. and to know she wasnt alone. they were his newer friends, part of his new family.
turning he said "madam sparrow, maz, psy. how nice to see you. taking a break?"
there was an audible gasp as he turned. Fury was tall, taller than many, and well muscled. the muscles of a warrior. the tough skin of an ancient being. his black armour gleamed in the moonlight, its bulk seeming as though it should weigh him down, though all present knew he could move with lightning speed. he wasnt wearing his customary hood and mask, and his white hair and beard we open to shift in the soft breeze. but what drew the gasp from the assembled sisters of his family wasnt his armour, his flowing cloak, or his adult appearance, it was the rent in his armour, a deep wound that had penetrated deep within his being. blood welled from the wound. as he turned Fury stumbled. his strength waning.
almost without breath maz spoke "wha....what happened to you?" she new that the wound should have been healed by Fury, he could draw on a small portion of life essence to repair himself, it wasnt detrimental, but caused dizziness.
he couldnt speak. couldnt explain what had happened. he had confronted another living shadow. a brother. his clone. neither had won. the other had escaped, wrapped himself in shadow as soon as his machines were disposed of and drifted away. both were injured, badly.
their touch was warm, motherly. with help from other iconites they had broken off the armour surrounding the wound. his family, unified to save him. the warm touch of memories awoke within, the memory of love, of friendship, of the feeling of having a family.
the wound closed, Zane, hammer, RA, CJ, Dis, ant, and others all carried him away. to rest. to heal. to remember. to live.
(more later )
(im not a writer, never been too good at it, but meh, hope you enjoy this as much as i have had writing it, this is part one of "Fury: genesis" a different version of "Fury chronicles" which was on here before)
