Experiment 3.0
It had occurred to him that he was getting weaker- The dreams he had planted in the man's skull took a lot more energy than he had thought it would, and each time he slept, his power decreased.
While this wasn't saying much, due to his being so powerful anyway, it was still quite annoying- He couldn't pick up 5-ton dump-trucks quite as easily as he could before, that was for sure.
Leaping up toward the platform holding a glowing crystal, the creature with purple skin placed its clawed hand on the surface. Magical energies rushed from it and around his arm, forcing him to close his eyes. The vision began again, and this time, he would finish it.
Every time he had begun this, an extreme burning pain ripped through him, and caused him to relinquish his bare hand- Now, he was fully prepared for the pain, knowing that soon, he would have his enemy's weakness.
Paragon City flew into frame- Valiant, shining, guarded by the largest mass of super heroes on the planet. Anywhere you looked, someone in bright spandex was running or flying to the next crime or super-villain battle.
One stood out in particular, soaring through the sky with a look of joy on his face, his blond hair flapping in his closed eyes slightly.
The red armour over his body signaled who it was right off.
Experiment 2.0 scanned the area, still smiling- He had just finished mopping up a group of Hellions, just like he had in every vision so far. Then, a burst of red light coursed through him, sending him down to the ground, and the most painful heat imaginable through the watcher's hand.
The creature withstood the burn, and he continued watching.
Experiment flipped around, barely landing on a building's outcropping, glancing up. A robot, double the size of a normal human and covered in red and black armour, fired down upon him with some sort of futuristic rifle.
2.0 leaped from the building, engaging his jetboots and flipping around the blasts of energy. As he flipped again, spines covered his left and, and he swung his body full circle, sending a wave of spikes at the robot.
It fired rapidly, scorching most of the poison-tipped projectiles, but it didn't expect the hero it was attacking to flip around behind it, and smash it on the head with both fists. The head smashed into the body, and the thing exploded in fire and sparks.
Experiment was thrown downward, smashing into a car. This almost send the creature flying also, but it withstood the pain. As the hero gripped his head in pain, and sat up, he realized that his mask of metal had fallen back- And it gave the creature a perfect view of his identity.
Pulling the metal over his head again, he flew off after ensuring nobody had seen him.
The creature removed its hand from the crystal, ending the vision. It quickly wrapped bandages around the burned, bleeding hand, gasping in breath. It had taken a beating due to the downside of the Scrying Crystal, but he had figured out who Experiment 2.0 was, and intended to destroy him when he least expected it.
...Of course, this was going to be rather easy, as 'Experiment 2.0,' at that moment, was the man spinning in his chair, laughing his head off.
((Alrighty. My last stories sucked- Not because I suck, I don't think, but because, in fact, my brain sucked. Indeed, it seemed to be a black hole for creativity a while ago.
...Then again, I'm not promising it has changed- For all I know, this is going to turn out crappy too. <_<
Blah.))
John slammed his feet down into the carpet, then doubled over out of his chair and coughed loudly onto the floor. A few people glanced over, then shook their heads in annoyance. In fact, some even seemed to groan as he rose to his knees. "Guys, you have GOT to try it!" he said for the fifth time that day, "Come on!"
John Ballard wasn't the most mature of men- He had spent the last few hours spinning around in his office chair, as he did almost every other day. It was a waste of time, yes, but it was a FUN waste of time.
"John," a voice said from a nearby cubicle, "You're not paid to play around."
"In fact," John replied curtly, "I'm not paid at all. I haven't gotten a paycheck in the past three months."
"Oh, I WONDER why."
On the one-hundredth floor of the Paragon City Times, a man could get bored PRETTY easily. John was not immune to this- Having worked for the Times since his moving to Paragon, he had grown bored of sitting on floor one-hundred about 4 years ago.
The only thing that really made him happy was flying around the city, saving people. Even THAT was getting harder- Hell, most citizens he tried to help seemed to suddenly use powers on the enemy, and yell 'Hey! Quit KSing!' at him.
However, there was always the nagging feeling in the back of his head- Usually, it was if he was doing something good, but now, it was the opposite. Ever since a few weeks beforehand, John had been having strange dreams- A church, and the gargoyles coming to life and attacking him was a common part. Other than those factors, it changed every time.
Sometimes, it was the Church of England. Sometimes, the warehouse in Steel Canyon people seemed to use as a church sometimes, just down the street from the PCT. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't forget a single word that kept echoing in his head after waking up-
"Darkness."
It was a common word, that was for sure, but DEFINITELY not one he commonly associated with churches. Gargoyles, maybe, but not churches.
So, he decided to get to the bottom of the matter... Right after some Pop Tarts and O.J.