Shades of Things to Come
The Warriors: a modern criminal gang with archaic weapons. They had a piece of the action on the Striga Isle docks, and fought with the Family and the Council for every illegal dollar they made. This particular crew was rolling a barrel of high explosives onto a dolly, doubtless to destroy some building of their foes. Each man carried a crossbow, backed up with a sword, axe, or mace. As they worked, they had no idea that the nearby shadows watched them, and plotted their demise.
The first gunshot alerted the gang to their peril, though it was too late for one of their number. Out of the shadows sprang a woman in a bikini, spines poking through her skin. She dove into the mob as a second woman fired a grenade from an oversized assault rifle, scattering the Warriors. Before the mob could reform to face the threat, the ground opened up underneath them, snaring their feet in some sticky field of dark energy. The Warriors fought where they stood; some drew their crossbows and fired at the shooter, others swung on the spiny woman. Crossbow bolts and melee weapons pierced, cut, and smashed, causing massive trauma. The shadows moved closer to the mob, and drained energy from the Warriors to sustain the two female combatants.
Exhilarating! Do it again!
Shut up.
With the Warriors own life force used to regenerate the womens wounds, the fight could have only one outcome; the criminals were defeated in short order. While the spiky woman planted teleport beacons on the unconscious criminals, the shadows faded away, revealing their source: a man in a grey suit. The bikini-clad beauty finished her work and retracted her spines, while the other woman replenished her ammunition. They turned to their third companion.
Thanks, Night Shift!, gushed the scantily clad heroine, That was a close one! We couldnt have done it without you!
The cover you provided was invaluable. We couldnt have gotten that close without it, chimed the gunner.
Glad I could help, Splinter Girl, Gun Bunny, he replied, tipping his weathered fedora at each by name. Think Ill call the bomb squad while you report back to your contact.
Actually, we gotta go, said Splinter Girl, spreading her hands in apology. But thanks for your help! We wont forget it!
Night Shift frowned, but said, No problem. Take care, ladies.
Splinter Girl turned and dashed off at highway speeds. Gun Bunny rocketed high up into the air and out of sight. Night Shift stood quietly and watched them leave.
You are the reason they survived that fight, yet they so easily abandon you! Imbecile! Theyre using you! They should be serving you, not the other way around!
Pipe down!, Night Shift commanded.
Fool! I am the source of your power! Who better than I to advise you?
I dont need your advice. Night Shift vanished, then reappeared instantly far down the street. The process repeated until he stood at the gangplank of a large container ship. He strode onto the ship-
And straight into a wall of rough-looking sailors. The biggest of them rumbled, This ship is protected, so you can take the Dons demands and shove em-
No, hey, Im one of the good guys. Seeing their disbelieving sneers, Night Shift slowly reached into his coat, produced his ID, and handed it to the sailors spokesman. The salty sea dog looked at it, showed it to the nearest sailors, then handed it back.
You dont look like one of the good guys, he grouched, slightly less hostile.
I dont do Spandex or bright colors, Night Shift replied. Is that a problem?
Youre not going to take this from the likes of them, are you? This transport is supposed to be at your disposal!
Night Shift tried not to wince. It was true; the cargo ships plying the waters between Striga and Paragon City were supposed to provide passage to registered heroes without charge or questions. It pained him when the voice was right.
The sailors eyed him curiously during the internal monologue. Their spokesman piped up, If you wander around dressed like a Mafia hood, youre gonna get treated like one.
Night Shift deadpanned, I thought the sunglasses were a dead giveaway that Im not a Mafia hood. He gave the barest hint of a smile. Snorts of laughter rippled through the mob of sailors. It wasnt very funny, but at least hed diffused the situation. The mob dispersed to resume whatever tasks they were doing before he walked on board, leaving only the spokesman and Night Shift by the gangplank.
Night Shift was scrutinized once more. Were heading to Independence Port. Is that a problem?, said the sailor, echoing the challenge Night Shift had laid down moments before.
Not if you can spare some coffee.
Its lousy.
I wouldnt take it any other way.
Finally, the big sailor smiled. Sure. This way, Night Shift, he said, gesturing to a door in the superstructure.
Call me Rick. I only use the hero name-
We both know youre not a hero!
-when I have to, finished Night Shift, not quite smooth enough to escape notice. He walked to the door to open it, and caught his reflection in the porthole. A hardened face stared back at him from behind wire-rimmed sunglasses with opaque amber lenses. Fringes of his short hair, prematurely bleached to silver, poked from under his fedora. Most people thought he looked like a cop, a fed, or a Mafia soldier (only in Paragon). He saw a black shroud, inky tendrils wrapping themselves around him. He saw a man who was a prisoner in his own body.
Im the prisoner, and dont you forget it!
It was a miserably slow trip back to Paragon City, made more so by his stowaways continual harassment. He eagerly left the ship as soon as the gangplank reached the shoreline. Striding between huge cargo silos, Night Shift kept an ear out for signs of trouble. It didnt take long; in this so-called City of Heroes, there was a depressingly large number of criminals. He heard the unmistakable sounds of a shakedown, and moved to intercept.
Theres too many of them. You cant yet control the power needed to fell them all.
Theres someone in trouble, and I can help. It was a flimsy rationalization; at best, hed only succeed in giving the victim a head start on running away, but he hated it when the voice was right. Fighting its suggestions was almost a reflex.
Think clearly! Youve been leeching off powers you cannot comprehend, incrementally learning their depth and utility.
Night Shift slowed. The voice was making sense, else hed taken too many hits today to think straight. Wheres this sudden change of heart coming from?
I have not changed. You are the vessel which brought me here, so I cannot survive without you. You have learned to use some of my power, but taken up a cause which could kill you if you are unprepared. I have more power at my command, much more than you have sensed thus far. It will be enough to let you triumph.
Night Shift had worked as a cop, then detective, then private investigator. Hundreds of people had tried to hustle him, and now his stowaway was taking its turn.
Youve been holding out on me?
Circumstances have changed. This self-destructive lifestyle has forced me to take action-
A chill shot down Night Shifts spine.
-to save us both. I have more power, but you are unable to channel it safely. Let me take control. Ive been studying your body; I can unleash my full power without harming your delicate flesh. Your foes will fall before our combined might!
Night Shifts gut froze. He suspected the voice wanted control, but for it to declare it so openly
What say you?
He sprinted around the corner and hurled a blast of utter darkness at the nearest mobster. As one, the mob turned on him and drew their guns.
WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?
You want to help? Cough up the power, and make it snappy! Or, Ill take us both out.
Whatever the reply, it was lost when the first shots were fired. Bullets and shot spun him around and knocked him off his feet. The muscle moved in under cover of the guns and started working him over. Through the savage beating, Night Shift took comfort in knowing he would be freed from the hopeless struggle for control over his own body. Death would release both him and his stowaway.
He never got the chance. Purple death scythed through the Button Men. Gunmen and muscle alike, they never stood a chance; in moments, their unconscious bodies littered the parking lot. A short woman in purple clothes and purple spiky hair walked over to Night Shifts broken body and kneeled down.
Take this, she said, pressing a green med-patch into his hand. As soon as it touched his skin, his wounds closed, and his energy returned. It did nothing to relieve his despair.
A real angel of mercy would have let me die, he growled.
KILL HER!
What was that?, inquired the woman.
I said-
No, she interrupted, the other thing. The one about killing me.
I didnt say anything. I wasnt
you heard that thing?
KILL HER NOW! YOU DONT KNOW WHAT HORROR SHE REPRESENTS! IF YOU ONLY OBEY ME ONCE, DO SO NOW! SHE MUST-
Be still, little brother. At the strange womans command, Night Shifts other voice fell silent. It took him a while to realize it; he had struggled with the voice for over a year, and it was a strange sensation being alone again. The feeling of solace was overwhelming. He took a moment to compose himself before speaking.
Whatever you did, can you make it permanent? I dont know how I could pay you back, but Id be willing to spend a lifetime finding a way to make it up to you.
Thats
I cant keep him quiet for long, and I dont know how to remove him. Im sorry. Through the purple aura surrounding her, her eyes mirrored Night Shifts pain.
Night Shift wanted to collapse. The prospect of resuming his 24-7 struggle for dominance was more than he could bear, especially now, contrasted with this, his last moment of clarity. Then could you point me to the octopus? I have a few things Id like to say to Lusca.
What kind of hero would I be if I just let you get yourself killed? Especially when Ive found one of my own inside you?
He blinked in surprise. What are you? Where did this thing come from?
With an otherworldly grace, the little woman walked to the curb and sat down. They call us Warshades, but that just means Im bonded with a Nictus, a being from another world. Were a partnership, two beings in the same body. It comes with a few strings, but mostly I wield its powers as if they were my own. I can sense one inside you, though the powers you showed are a little different from any others Ive seen. If its not too much trouble to tell, howd you find yours?
Night Shift picked himself up off the asphalt and dusted his suit, without success. I didnt go looking for it, it got forced on me.
Im sorry, she whispered. Ever the observer, Night Shift picked out something in her voice. She wasnt comfortable with her
Nictus?
, or her partnership wasnt voluntary, either. He was about to inquire, when she piped up again. You get it here, or-
No, replied Night Shift, I thought someone in The City of Heroes could help me with my problem, so I came here to find a way to get rid of it. Azuria said I needed to go do hero stuff to learn to deal with the problem. I thought she meant Id find a way to purge the thing.
The woman smiled faintly. Azurias normally well informed, but in this case she only knows part of the truth. First, youre bonded, so theres no purging for you. I wish she had been more specific about that. Second, the reason she had you do hero stuff was to mold your Nictus into a more benevolent being. Youve felt some urges to do
unsavory things?
Yeah. Well, more like a constant nagging than an urge, but, you know. Stealing and eating souls; I dont go for that sort of stuff.
Thats an unreformed Nictus. When bonded, the two eventually merge personalities and powers. When you do good, the Nictus adapts to that lifestyle. Probably, the reason youve had a rough go of it is because youve done the hero stuff, but your heart wasnt in it.
Night Shift scratched at his chin, slightly embarrassed. I just wanted it gone, he rationalized, lamely.
Thats OK. You must have helped a lot of people, but its the thought thats important. If you continue to just go through the motions, youll be fighting with the Nictus forever. Youll only find your
redemption if you want to do the right thing for the right reasons. You have to be a hero, body and soul.
There was that catch in her voice again. He learned to read people as a cop, and the slips in her speech were painting a picture. Not a totally clear picture yet, but she had saved his life, so itd be rude to interrogate further.
Night Shift grunted. Hmph. So thats it? I just gotta be a good guy?
Thats about it. The woman stood. Im not spouting this to give you false hope. Im an example, proof, if you will, that your incompatibility is only temporary. Trust in your own good heart, and you will triumph! I did it, and so can you!
It was the best news hed heard in a while. Guess Ill have to pay a visit to Azuria, straighten her out, he said.
And then?
Then its time to go be a hero.
Thats the spirit!, gushed the little woman. She turned away, making like she was about to leave.
Before you take off, tell me your name, Night Shift asked.
She back at Night Shift looked over her shoulder. Sweet Little Lies.
Sweet Little Lies, he repeated. A sly smile broke out on his face. Half accusing, he quipped, Theres a story behind that name.
She smiled slyly back. Another time, hero. Ill see you around. She teleported away in a purple flash, not too dissimilar from his own method of travel.
Night Shift could feel his stowaway- no, his partner beginning to stir. In a moment hed be able to teleport again. First hed heard to Atlas Park. Afterwards, hed have some thinking to do. The top of Atlass globe seemed a good place to ponder life in his home. For the first time since he arrived, he began to think of Paragon as just that; his home.
The City of Heroes, he muttered to himself, smiling broadly now. Whod have thought that I belonged here?
Grog the Big
#69397 Get Grog a Drink!
#155312 No Good Deed Goes Unrewarded
#229565 Take Back the Park! (lowbie friendly)
Praetor of the [url="http://www.forgottenlegion.net"]Forgotten Legion[/url] SG and mod for the HUB player community. All hail the mighty Grog!
((Just where do Warshades come from? The Council *I miss The 5th Column* can't have a monopoly on them, can they? And how, exactly, does one reform a Nictus? One man finds out in this short story.
Splinter Girl and Gun Bunny are names I just made up. If you happen to play them, know that I have no idea who you are, so I'm not deliberately taking a shot at you. Sweet Little Lies was volunteered by Sint, who has, sadly, left the game.))
#69397 Get Grog a Drink!
#155312 No Good Deed Goes Unrewarded
#229565 Take Back the Park! (lowbie friendly)
Praetor of the [url="http://www.forgottenlegion.net"]Forgotten Legion[/url] SG and mod for the HUB player community. All hail the mighty Grog!