Two men sit facing one another, a camera and a tape recorder the only witnesses to the upcomming "Story of the Moment", as Harvey Caswell's boss told him that very morning. "A chance to meet a real Hero! Interview him! Gain the inside scoop! You go there, and you find out where he came from, and I mean every detail! You miss anything and you'll be writing for the tabloids before I'm done with you!"
Harvey shook his head, comming back to the where and when. He had accepted the assignment; not out of fear of his boss, who spouts off an almost identicle speach every other day, but out of curiosity. Of all the Heros who had come to Paragon City of late, it was The Betrayer who had always captured his fascination.
Regaining his train of thought, he stared into The Betrayer eyes...or rather, what should have been eyes. Instead all he saw were two indentations that pulsed with a living white glow. It was almost as if the man in front of him had a heart in his eyes. It was by far the most disturbing thing he had ever seen. Realizing he was lost in The Betrayer's eyes, he quickly refocused on the entire face, catching just a hint of a knowing smile on the Hero's face.
"Since you are obviously taken aback", said The Betrayer, the smile growing deviously, "perhaps I should begin the questioning?"
Caswell grined like a 5 year old on his first trip to Hero World, the amusement park created after the victory over the Rikti. "Good good", said Harvey, "I apologize for staring...it's just...unusual."
"Yes", replied the Betrayer, his face going stoic so quickly, one would have to question if they had ever seen mirth on that hardend profile, "I suppose that is as good a place to start as any. Do you, Mr. Harvey Caswell, know anything about the Hellions? Do you know what they do to those that betray they're ranks? After this, you will understand completely, and your sleep will be as troubled as mine."
Clearing his throat, The Betrayer took a moment to sort out his thoughts, and then began to unfold his legecy to one Mr. Harvey Caswell, who as quickly as that, had become like another tape recorder or video camera; another phantom witness:
'I suppose I should begin at the beginning, or rather, the end. I was born as normal as can be. I was not very strong, and although I had an exeptional mind, I was not, by any regards, one of the greater anthropologists of this age. My field of study was typically in the history of previous culture's beliefs in the mystic arts, and although I worked exclusivly for S.E.R.E.P.H, I was often found with members of M.A.G.I. discussing and sharing notes. It was during one of these conversations that my story both ends and begins. I was...reborn as what you see now.
It began with something very simple, as these things usually do. A simple task. A small statue, no larger then your hand Mr. Caswell, crafted in the Incan designs, with symbols I was and am still not able to decipher. It is a form of writing I had never seen before, and wondered if it were, perhaps, a form of the language most M.A.G.I speak in private. It was too this purpose that I brought the small, black statue to paragon city, to the heart of the M.A.G.I.
When I entered the city, I was overwhelmed with it's enormity, as well as the destruction caused by the Rikti. As I rode on the train through Steel Canyon, on route to Atlas Park, I remember vivedly seeing Positron in the distence, assisting in some of the cleanup efforts on a building that had been literaly torn in half during the Rikti invasion. As the train passed over his head, Positron looked up, and when our eyes conected...as they did in my mind, I felt something that I would not understand until after the Helions destroyed me. A sort of...peace.
I appologize, I seem to be getting off base. As, I was saying, I rode the train into Atlas Park, and was dazled by the massive girth of the city's safe zone. I was awed by the painstakenly detailed statue of Atlas, but I was given little time to enjoy more of the sights then that. I steped off of the train and slowly made my way down the road, heading toward the City Hall, when out of the shadows a voice spoke to me, "We've been waiting for you little man...you are summoned."
And with that, I saw only a flash of a fist and the world went dark.'
At this point, the Betrayer pauses, and quickly takes a drink of water, quenching his thirst. In rapture by the story so far, Harvey sat there with his jaw hanging open, impatiently awaiting for the story to continue:
'Ahh...where was I? Oh yes.
So I awoke in a chamber that appeared to be underground. To be honest, it is one of the memories I have not regained yet, and I cannot tell you anymore then it was crafted out of the bedrock. The Chamber was massive, the ceiling floating up past the little light the wall sconces were casting. I was strapped to a stone alter, and imediatly my fear was apparent. My skin went cold, my stomach sank, and a small tingle went up from the base of my back to my neck, where they settled permanantly. I looked around in my limited view and began to whimper...or at least, that is what I think of it now. I suppose plead would be a more proper term, but you can only beg so much before you sound like a dog that has been kicked around it's entire life. In my small field of vision, I could see three men, all dressed in red and black vests and pants. They looked very angry, and they looked very dangerous. I began to struggle, and they laughed at me, they're faces never loosing that "cat's got the mouse cornered" look. They walked like a triangle, one behind, the two others in front and to either side of him. As I watched their slow approach, I felt as if my head were going to burst from fear. Men with faces like that do not hurt people. They destroy them. Completely. Utterly. Destroy them. I understood this, but I didn't realize how correct I was as I watched the two lead "guards" split to either side and dim to the corners of my sight. I understood a little more as the "leader" walked toward me, carrying a small statue, alike in every way that I could see to the one I carried in my pocket. No...not the same, differant, if only slightly; the one he carried had twin horns wrapped around it's head, and was decorated red on black. Where the one I carried had a single fin comming out of the top of it's head and was decorated blue on black. I did not understand what was happening, but as all analitical minds do, mine began to analize it as if it were a fresh specimen. Attempting to figure out it's origin, age, and purpose. As I stared into the statues face, I began to notice a detail on the edge of my mind, I was hearing....am hearing...chanting. It sounds....Latin....but it is not. It is....in my head. It hurts, but it feels very good. I can feal that sound tearing into my soul. I can see the statue's eyes beginning to glow, and I see, once again, the similarity to the statue I am studying. My mind is flashing...storming...trying to find the connection, and BAM! All of a sudden...it came. The higher members of the Hellions. The Damned. The Statue. The power to control Fire. My eyes shot wide, and I jerked up with all my strength, trying to free myself from my bindings. I was obviously too late. The eyes of the statue burst into dark pits of flame and magma, and the laughter and chanting of the group of Damned tore through my body, ripping to shreds all that was me. The flames began to stretch out of the statue's eyes. Slowly snakeing their way toward me. Closer. Closer still. Closer...and then they stoped. As if they had hit a solid wall of air. I saw the face of the "leader" go slack in surprise, his chin hitting his chest. A beam of bright blue light shot out of my shirt pocket, bands of electricity rippling around it. The two beams struck, and entertwined, circling one another like two lions fighting for the pride. And then they struck. Together, crossed together like a strand of DNA, they shot into my open, screaming mouth, and the world went blue....and the world went red.'
The Betrayer slowly puts his hands to his face, feeling his skin, sticking his fingers into the crevices that were once his eyes. He looks very tired...haggard even, and at that moment, the glory of it all vanished for our Mr. Harvey Caswell. He began to understand the pain this man must live through every day. He began to understand the strength of will it must take for him to fight and fight and fight, destroying all those who threaten peace, so no others will be forced to face his fate. Harvey was awestruck...silent, and disoriented by this understanding, and sitting back, he let out a deep sigh. The Betrayer quickly looked up, his hands flying out, snarls of electricity jumping to his finger tips. This was not the man the papers made of him. He was more like a lost samurai, alone, masterless, and constantly ready to protect all he has left. His life.
The Betrayer sat back slowly, taking a deep breath, his hands slideing to his sides as the sparks of electricty curved around and were...absorbed into his figer tips. He stared at Mr. Caswell, for some time, and looking down at his hands, he began once again:
'When I awoke, there were figures over me. I cannot describe them as more then shadows, and most of what they were saying slipped into the darkness. But the few things I did understand, took me to an enitrly new depth of despair.
"He's a failure, can't you see that? That statue of his interfeared with the change. He is useless in this state, and can never be one of the Damned!"
Another voice answered, it's voice crisp and deep, "You are wrong little child. His power and ability will outdistance yours in a matter of months. Within weaks, most of the Damned will fall to him. No...he is not a failure...just an unexpected success. We will have to implemant the serum much quicker with him. We wouldn't want him to break free "unprogramed" would we? Send for the good Dr. Tell him he will recieve his...usual payment."
I heard heavy footsteps plodding away at that point, and caught a glimps of what appeared to be a long metal apendage turning a corner, and then it all hit. What he said; what had happend; where I was. In a rage, I sat straight up, the leather binds melting as my skin touched them. "YOU DARE TO TOUCH ME YOU SOULESS FIENDS?!" I remember shouting, and then...the world went white. Streams of fire and electricity exploded from every pore of my body, circling around me like a tornado. I could hear screams around me, but I was only in the white...they meant little. I felt searing pain from every sector of my body, as my skin was quickly chared by the explosion of power, and all at once, the spinning stoped. All stood quiet. "KILL HIM!" I heard one of the Damned say, and with that, I smiled, and....realesed...my hold over what I had created. The intertwined flames and electricity burst in all directions, and my enemies simply ceased to exist. It was so simple...not even a pile of ash marked their shallow graves.
I honestly wish I could explain it more to you Mr. Caswell, but I do not understand what I did then, and although the powers remain with me as you well know, I cannot join them together regardless of how hard I try. The power I felt then...you could not understand. I was a God. No ifs, ands, or buts. I was a God...if for only a moment.
I searched the area when I managed to shake the disorientation that struck me when I released the blast, but I never found either statue. I assume they were taken by the big man...although I still do not know who he is. What kills me the most though....is that the Hellions...the Damned...and this mystery man; They all knew I was comming, and even if they didn't know what I carried, they knew I had what they needed to make me one of the Damned. The thing that tears me apart...is that the only way they could know is if someone Betrayed me too them. And Betrayel...is never something I accept. Unless of course, I'm the one doing it.'
With that, The Betrayer smiled, but unlike his opening smile, this was the smile of a demon spawn. A terror. A villian. A Betrayer...
Two men sit facing one another, a camera and a tape recorder the only witnesses to the upcomming "Story of the Moment", as Harvey Caswell's boss told him that very morning. "A chance to meet a real Hero! Interview him! Gain the inside scoop! You go there, and you find out where he came from, and I mean every detail! You miss anything and you'll be writing for the tabloids before I'm done with you!"
Harvey shook his head, comming back to the where and when. He had accepted the assignment; not out of fear of his boss, who spouts off an almost identicle speach every other day, but out of curiosity. Of all the Heros who had come to Paragon City of late, it was The Betrayer who had always captured his fascination.
Regaining his train of thought, he stared into The Betrayer eyes...or rather, what should have been eyes. Instead all he saw were two indentations that pulsed with a living white glow. It was almost as if the man in front of him had a heart in his eyes. It was by far the most disturbing thing he had ever seen. Realizing he was lost in The Betrayer's eyes, he quickly refocused on the entire face, catching just a hint of a knowing smile on the Hero's face.
"Since you are obviously taken aback", said The Betrayer, the smile growing deviously, "perhaps I should begin the questioning?"
Caswell grined like a 5 year old on his first trip to Hero World, the amusement park created after the victory over the Rikti. "Good good", said Harvey, "I apologize for staring...it's just...unusual."
"Yes", replied the Betrayer, his face going stoic so quickly, one would have to question if they had ever seen mirth on that hardend profile, "I suppose that is as good a place to start as any. Do you, Mr. Harvey Caswell, know anything about the Hellions? Do you know what they do to those that betray they're ranks? After this, you will understand completely, and your sleep will be as troubled as mine."
Clearing his throat, The Betrayer took a moment to sort out his thoughts, and then began to unfold his legecy to one Mr. Harvey Caswell, who as quickly as that, had become like another tape recorder or video camera; another phantom witness:
'I suppose I should begin at the beginning, or rather, the end. I was born as normal as can be. I was not very strong, and although I had an exeptional mind, I was not, by any regards, one of the greater anthropologists of this age. My field of study was typically in the history of previous culture's beliefs in the mystic arts, and although I worked exclusivly for S.E.R.E.P.H, I was often found with members of M.A.G.I. discussing and sharing notes. It was during one of these conversations that my story both ends and begins. I was...reborn as what you see now.
It began with something very simple, as these things usually do. A simple task. A small statue, no larger then your hand Mr. Caswell, crafted in the Incan designs, with symbols I was and am still not able to decipher. It is a form of writing I had never seen before, and wondered if it were, perhaps, a form of the language most M.A.G.I speak in private. It was too this purpose that I brought the small, black statue to paragon city, to the heart of the M.A.G.I.
When I entered the city, I was overwhelmed with it's enormity, as well as the destruction caused by the Rikti. As I rode on the train through Steel Canyon, on route to Atlas Park, I remember vivedly seeing Positron in the distence, assisting in some of the cleanup efforts on a building that had been literaly torn in half during the Rikti invasion. As the train passed over his head, Positron looked up, and when our eyes conected...as they did in my mind, I felt something that I would not understand until after the Helions destroyed me. A sort of...peace.
I appologize, I seem to be getting off base. As, I was saying, I rode the train into Atlas Park, and was dazled by the massive girth of the city's safe zone. I was awed by the painstakenly detailed statue of Atlas, but I was given little time to enjoy more of the sights then that. I steped off of the train and slowly made my way down the road, heading toward the City Hall, when out of the shadows a voice spoke to me, "We've been waiting for you little man...you are summoned."
And with that, I saw only a flash of a fist and the world went dark.'
At this point, the Betrayer pauses, and quickly takes a drink of water, quenching his thirst. In rapture by the story so far, Harvey sat there with his jaw hanging open, impatiently awaiting for the story to continue:
'Ahh...where was I? Oh yes.
So I awoke in a chamber that appeared to be underground. To be honest, it is one of the memories I have not regained yet, and I cannot tell you anymore then it was crafted out of the bedrock. The Chamber was massive, the ceiling floating up past the little light the wall sconces were casting. I was strapped to a stone alter, and imediatly my fear was apparent. My skin went cold, my stomach sank, and a small tingle went up from the base of my back to my neck, where they settled permanantly. I looked around in my limited view and began to whimper...or at least, that is what I think of it now. I suppose plead would be a more proper term, but you can only beg so much before you sound like a dog that has been kicked around it's entire life. In my small field of vision, I could see three men, all dressed in red and black vests and pants. They looked very angry, and they looked very dangerous. I began to struggle, and they laughed at me, they're faces never loosing that "cat's got the mouse cornered" look. They walked like a triangle, one behind, the two others in front and to either side of him. As I watched their slow approach, I felt as if my head were going to burst from fear. Men with faces like that do not hurt people. They destroy them. Completely. Utterly. Destroy them. I understood this, but I didn't realize how correct I was as I watched the two lead "guards" split to either side and dim to the corners of my sight. I understood a little more as the "leader" walked toward me, carrying a small statue, alike in every way that I could see to the one I carried in my pocket. No...not the same, differant, if only slightly; the one he carried had twin horns wrapped around it's head, and was decorated red on black. Where the one I carried had a single fin comming out of the top of it's head and was decorated blue on black. I did not understand what was happening, but as all analitical minds do, mine began to analize it as if it were a fresh specimen. Attempting to figure out it's origin, age, and purpose. As I stared into the statues face, I began to notice a detail on the edge of my mind, I was hearing....am hearing...chanting. It sounds....Latin....but it is not. It is....in my head. It hurts, but it feels very good. I can feal that sound tearing into my soul. I can see the statue's eyes beginning to glow, and I see, once again, the similarity to the statue I am studying. My mind is flashing...storming...trying to find the connection, and BAM! All of a sudden...it came. The higher members of the Hellions. The Damned. The Statue. The power to control Fire. My eyes shot wide, and I jerked up with all my strength, trying to free myself from my bindings. I was obviously too late. The eyes of the statue burst into dark pits of flame and magma, and the laughter and chanting of the group of Damned tore through my body, ripping to shreds all that was me. The flames began to stretch out of the statue's eyes. Slowly snakeing their way toward me. Closer. Closer still. Closer...and then they stoped. As if they had hit a solid wall of air. I saw the face of the "leader" go slack in surprise, his chin hitting his chest. A beam of bright blue light shot out of my shirt pocket, bands of electricity rippling around it. The two beams struck, and entertwined, circling one another like two lions fighting for the pride. And then they struck. Together, crossed together like a strand of DNA, they shot into my open, screaming mouth, and the world went blue....and the world went red.'
The Betrayer slowly puts his hands to his face, feeling his skin, sticking his fingers into the crevices that were once his eyes. He looks very tired...haggard even, and at that moment, the glory of it all vanished for our Mr. Harvey Caswell. He began to understand the pain this man must live through every day. He began to understand the strength of will it must take for him to fight and fight and fight, destroying all those who threaten peace, so no others will be forced to face his fate. Harvey was awestruck...silent, and disoriented by this understanding, and sitting back, he let out a deep sigh. The Betrayer quickly looked up, his hands flying out, snarls of electricity jumping to his finger tips. This was not the man the papers made of him. He was more like a lost samurai, alone, masterless, and constantly ready to protect all he has left. His life.
The Betrayer sat back slowly, taking a deep breath, his hands slideing to his sides as the sparks of electricty curved around and were...absorbed into his figer tips. He stared at Mr. Caswell, for some time, and looking down at his hands, he began once again:
'When I awoke, there were figures over me. I cannot describe them as more then shadows, and most of what they were saying slipped into the darkness. But the few things I did understand, took me to an enitrly new depth of despair.
"He's a failure, can't you see that? That statue of his interfeared with the change. He is useless in this state, and can never be one of the Damned!"
Another voice answered, it's voice crisp and deep, "You are wrong little child. His power and ability will outdistance yours in a matter of months. Within weaks, most of the Damned will fall to him. No...he is not a failure...just an unexpected success. We will have to implemant the serum much quicker with him. We wouldn't want him to break free "unprogramed" would we? Send for the good Dr. Tell him he will recieve his...usual payment."
I heard heavy footsteps plodding away at that point, and caught a glimps of what appeared to be a long metal apendage turning a corner, and then it all hit. What he said; what had happend; where I was. In a rage, I sat straight up, the leather binds melting as my skin touched them. "YOU DARE TO TOUCH ME YOU SOULESS FIENDS?!" I remember shouting, and then...the world went white. Streams of fire and electricity exploded from every pore of my body, circling around me like a tornado. I could hear screams around me, but I was only in the white...they meant little. I felt searing pain from every sector of my body, as my skin was quickly chared by the explosion of power, and all at once, the spinning stoped. All stood quiet. "KILL HIM!" I heard one of the Damned say, and with that, I smiled, and....realesed...my hold over what I had created. The intertwined flames and electricity burst in all directions, and my enemies simply ceased to exist. It was so simple...not even a pile of ash marked their shallow graves.
I honestly wish I could explain it more to you Mr. Caswell, but I do not understand what I did then, and although the powers remain with me as you well know, I cannot join them together regardless of how hard I try. The power I felt then...you could not understand. I was a God. No ifs, ands, or buts. I was a God...if for only a moment.
I searched the area when I managed to shake the disorientation that struck me when I released the blast, but I never found either statue. I assume they were taken by the big man...although I still do not know who he is. What kills me the most though....is that the Hellions...the Damned...and this mystery man; They all knew I was comming, and even if they didn't know what I carried, they knew I had what they needed to make me one of the Damned. The thing that tears me apart...is that the only way they could know is if someone Betrayed me too them. And Betrayel...is never something I accept. Unless of course, I'm the one doing it.'
With that, The Betrayer smiled, but unlike his opening smile, this was the smile of a demon spawn. A terror. A villian. A Betrayer...
------------------------------------------------------------------------
To be continued....
The Betrayer. ((electric/fire blaster, protector server))
((There is more to come, and some that isn't written yet. Please, feel free to comment...any and all ideas are welcome.))