Between the ever-busy streets of Paragon City, the night always moved at a breakneck pace, as people of all types tried to get their business concluded before the dawning of the sun. Tonight, that business had been interrupted.
Dodging through the sprawling back alleys of Kings Row, Revenant ran as fast as his feet would take him, his ratty shoes splashing dirty puddles, his wake swirling plastic bags and sheets of newspaper. The Hellion Damned kept looking over his shoulder, his mask pulled up to his forehead to see better. Occasionally he'd hear the low-pitched whirring of cybernetics, the clakking of a weapon being loaded, and the thump of combat boots on pavement.
Target averaging 210 bpm. Lactic Acid build-up probable. Re-Route energy sub-routines to Movement Mesh. Prepare for target confrontation.
Revenant was panting heavily, and ran down an alley to a dead-end. Exhausted, he turned around, only to see his pursuer move in to block his only exit route. Standing at nearly 6'1, this man was an impressive sight. Military grade body armor, black sunglasses, and blond hair pulled back into a ponytail. The flashing glint of a nearby streetlight revealed the man's cybernetic right arm.
Hey listen man, I give up, okay? I surrender! I'll submit to arrest, I'll head to the Zig, I'll do whatever! Please, man!
The man strode forward, the cyberarm grabbing the Damned at his jaw, fingers of steel creeping across the Hellion's face. Fingers that could rend metal began to slowly compress bone.
You fail to understand. Arrest is no longer an option. Your ignorance saw to that.
The man's eyes flashed red behind the glasses, Reach into your left pocket, and remove the device.
Revenant fumbled with his jeans, pulling out a small electronic component. The thing was the size of a soda can, with wires coming from both ends, and making a low hum. It looked like it had been taken from the set of a Sci-Fi B-Movie.
This thing? Man, I was just looking for a score! I was just lookin' for a hook-up! I just needed a fix! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!
The man took the device from the Hellion with his free hand, 'Sorry' does not cut it. The moment you took it, you moved from the realm of annoying street scum to tangible threat. And all threats must be resolved.
Target pheromone levels rising. Necessary level of fear induced. Three auxiliary targets located. Calculating Viral Spread probability...near 100%. Proceed.
You now have two options; expeditious and painful, or time-consuming and excruciating Please choose now.
Revenant had become hysterical, sweat and tears puring from the 'hardened criminal', No, no, no...please man, you don;t have to do this...I'll go quietly, I'll rat out whoever you want...I'll snitch, I'll do time, I'll do whatever man. Please, please don't...please don;t do this...
Incorrect response. Excruciating it is.
Faster than Revenant's brain could process the man's response, electrical impulses shot down the arm, causing the mechanical hand to instantaneously close at full force. In a contained spray of gore and bone, the Hellion leader was now missing a lower jaw. Revenant screamed in wordless, garbled agony, as an integrated SMB extended from the man's cybernetic arm.
In the distance, some watching Skulls looked down from a rooftop. One of the thugs spoke up, Man, that was brutal. I thought the heroes weren't allowed to do that?
The other Skull shook his head, They're not. That guy's pulling some illegal sh*t down there. Dude's crazy.
Hey, I think I saw him on the news. Says he's some Gulf War vet who opted for a cyberware augment after he got blasted by an IED. What'd he call himself?
Becker, I think. Lieutenant Becker. We'd better spread the word. Stay the hell away from that guy.
Audio Analysis Complete. Viral Spread has begun. Loading possible scenarios. Recommended action; leave the scene. All traceable evidence removed; probability of discovery at this stage is statistically insignificant. Initiating Transmatter Intradimensional Shift Sequence X2397-B
*******
It had been a usual day for Lieutenant Becker. He was hitting up his contacts for any news of criminal activity, while WARCRY-Z continued to calculate the aftermath of the previous night's events. Becker had just finished cleaning out a Clockwork nest when Z beeped inside his head.
Becker gave the mental okay, and he heard a voice come in over his integrated commlink, Allan, do you receive me? We need to discuss something rather important.
Becker recognized the voice as Ernest Mitchman, his cyber-surgeon.
I recovered the miniature reactor you were developing. It turns out it was just some Hellion.
Ernest's voice betrayed his anxiety, That's just it, Allan. He wasn't 'just some Hellion'. He was Calvin Morales, nephew of the Mayor. The PPD Are beginning a full investigation, saying that 'murder is murder, even when the victim is a metacriminal.'
Becker was stunned. That punk was the Mayor's nephew?
I'll call you back, Ernest.
What? Allan, NO! Don't you hang up on me! We need to work on this for you to-
Between the ever-busy streets of Paragon City, the night always moved at a breakneck pace, as people of all types tried to get their business concluded before the dawning of the sun. Tonight, that business had been interrupted.
Dodging through the sprawling back alleys of Kings Row, Revenant ran as fast as his feet would take him, his ratty shoes splashing dirty puddles, his wake swirling plastic bags and sheets of newspaper. The Hellion Damned kept looking over his shoulder, his mask pulled up to his forehead to see better. Occasionally he'd hear the low-pitched whirring of cybernetics, the clakking of a weapon being loaded, and the thump of combat boots on pavement.
Target averaging 210 bpm. Lactic Acid build-up probable. Re-Route energy sub-routines to Movement Mesh. Prepare for target confrontation.
Revenant was panting heavily, and ran down an alley to a dead-end. Exhausted, he turned around, only to see his pursuer move in to block his only exit route. Standing at nearly 6'1, this man was an impressive sight. Military grade body armor, black sunglasses, and blond hair pulled back into a ponytail. The flashing glint of a nearby streetlight revealed the man's cybernetic right arm.
Hey listen man, I give up, okay? I surrender! I'll submit to arrest, I'll head to the Zig, I'll do whatever! Please, man!
The man strode forward, the cyberarm grabbing the Damned at his jaw, fingers of steel creeping across the Hellion's face. Fingers that could rend metal began to slowly compress bone.
You fail to understand. Arrest is no longer an option. Your ignorance saw to that.
The man's eyes flashed red behind the glasses, Reach into your left pocket, and remove the device.
Revenant fumbled with his jeans, pulling out a small electronic component. The thing was the size of a soda can, with wires coming from both ends, and making a low hum. It looked like it had been taken from the set of a Sci-Fi B-Movie.
This thing? Man, I was just looking for a score! I was just lookin' for a hook-up! I just needed a fix! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!
The man took the device from the Hellion with his free hand, 'Sorry' does not cut it. The moment you took it, you moved from the realm of annoying street scum to tangible threat. And all threats must be resolved.
Target pheromone levels rising. Necessary level of fear induced. Three auxiliary targets located. Calculating Viral Spread probability...near 100%. Proceed.
You now have two options; expeditious and painful, or time-consuming and excruciating Please choose now.
Revenant had become hysterical, sweat and tears puring from the 'hardened criminal', No, no, no...please man, you don;t have to do this...I'll go quietly, I'll rat out whoever you want...I'll snitch, I'll do time, I'll do whatever man. Please, please don't...please don;t do this...
Incorrect response. Excruciating it is.
Faster than Revenant's brain could process the man's response, electrical impulses shot down the arm, causing the mechanical hand to instantaneously close at full force. In a contained spray of gore and bone, the Hellion leader was now missing a lower jaw. Revenant screamed in wordless, garbled agony, as an integrated SMB extended from the man's cybernetic arm.
In the distance, some watching Skulls looked down from a rooftop. One of the thugs spoke up, Man, that was brutal. I thought the heroes weren't allowed to do that?
The other Skull shook his head, They're not. That guy's pulling some illegal sh*t down there. Dude's crazy.
Hey, I think I saw him on the news. Says he's some Gulf War vet who opted for a cyberware augment after he got blasted by an IED. What'd he call himself?
Becker, I think. Lieutenant Becker. We'd better spread the word. Stay the hell away from that guy.
Audio Analysis Complete. Viral Spread has begun. Loading possible scenarios. Recommended action; leave the scene. All traceable evidence removed; probability of discovery at this stage is statistically insignificant. Initiating Transmatter Intradimensional Shift Sequence X2397-B
*******
It had been a usual day for Lieutenant Becker. He was hitting up his contacts for any news of criminal activity, while WARCRY-Z continued to calculate the aftermath of the previous night's events. Becker had just finished cleaning out a Clockwork nest when Z beeped inside his head.
Incoming sub-wave transmission. Origin Point: Atwater Cybernetics, Sub-Level Delta. Patch?
Becker gave the mental okay, and he heard a voice come in over his integrated commlink, Allan, do you receive me? We need to discuss something rather important.
Becker recognized the voice as Ernest Mitchman, his cyber-surgeon.
I recovered the miniature reactor you were developing. It turns out it was just some Hellion.
Ernest's voice betrayed his anxiety, That's just it, Allan. He wasn't 'just some Hellion'. He was Calvin Morales, nephew of the Mayor. The PPD Are beginning a full investigation, saying that 'murder is murder, even when the victim is a metacriminal.'
Becker was stunned. That punk was the Mayor's nephew?
I'll call you back, Ernest.
What? Allan, NO! Don't you hang up on me! We need to work on this for you to-
Sub-wave transmission terminated.