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Realistic or Modern A Gift Once Given Cannot Be Taken Back (1x1 with @Fuyou-Kay)

MidwayLives

"What's your favorite scary movie...?"


"The Gifted are Great, the Gifted are Good! Uncle Sam go Home! Uncle Sam no more!"

It wasn't the catchiest chant in the world and if the United States government had any say in it, it'd NEVER catch on.

Which is why exactly seven years ago to the day in Tucson, Arizona, a battalion of the US Army with tanks, APCs, and dozens of soldiers standing at the ready, were staring down a sizeable crowd of demonstrators. Many of whom were carrying signs that demanded the Feds turn around and leave, others had slogans tattooed across their bare skin. Many of the demonstrators may have 'looked' normal to the average person walking past. Most people didn't stop to take in the finer details of their everyday lives. But unbeknown to most, they shared their world with a group of individuals known as 'Gifted.' They came with different sets of abilities that often dictated how well they'd blend into 'normal' society. But one thing that united them all in their misery was how, even going as far back as when Spain and Portugal divided the Americas between the two of them, Gifted were discriminated against and seen as a constant aberration of God's work. Freaks and beasts who carried man's sins everywhere they went. At a certain point, the Great Powers of the world made an agreement that under no circumstances were Gifted to ever be allowed to 'live carefree and under the light of God as though they were men.' An agreement that's lasted to the modern age, with some hiccups here and there (Napoleon, The Central Powers of World War 1/The Axis of the Second World War, etc)

If one wished to live freely as a Gifted, as their true selves, they'd have to either accept the likelihood that the government would either capture them under penalty of death for either themselves or the Gifted's loved ones. To exist as little more than a living and breathing pawn. To be used in proxy wars at their government's choosing, black ops type missions, assassinations or just as mindless warriors. With no regard given to their own feelings or concerns. Or you'd have to constantly fight the authorities, never having a moment's peace, always paranoid that the Government will attempt to strike when your guard is down or that anyone you might attempt to trust will betray you at some point. Neither were any way to live. An ice elemental from a small village in France knew that even as a young boy. Gifted lived alongside Normals with little to no fuss or intervention from the government. It was likely only accepted due to the fact that everyone generally got on well, so to come in and indiscriminately begin massacring your own citizens to try and keep to a thousands year old document would only feed the flame of rebellion and if you pushed too hard? You could risk a full on Gifted-lead rebellion with the majority of the populace supporting it. France decided then to pick it's battles a touch more wisely and let the village continue to exist while also doing their best to keep any news of it from getting out overseas.

The realization that neither normals nor Gifted had to hate each other? That one didn't have to dominate the other. It'd throw into jeopardy everything that some of the ruling parties in other countries had been screaming and clinging to with such reverence.

The young boy didn't care about any of that. He had his parents, his grandparents, and the love of his community.

...."Come here, boy! Come....here!"


"Let me go!"

"I said come here, you little son of a-"

"I said...LET ME GO!!!"

The young boy had been accosted by an older man. If others had seen the interaction, brief as it was, it wouldn't have been difficult at all to the paint the man as a pervert. Attempting to spirit the boy away with compliments and false promises. The boy was smarter than that and continued to refuse the stranger's advances. All until he simply lost control of his Gift for the briefest of moments. Despite his immediate regret, it was too late. He'd broken the unspoken taboo and had taken the life of a Normal. The authorities would never accept self-defense as an excuse. 'Your abilities are unnatural. You're a blight from God. How could any regular man have ever been such a threat to a creature like you?" The boy was an ice elemental-some of the strongest Gifted both in the past and present were of the Elemental typing and this boy hailed from a powerful lineage. His parents were ice elementals as were his father's but on his mother's side? His maternal grandfather had been a White Fire elemental, one of the rarest and most powerful typing there were. He'd since passed on by the time the boy was born, a shock since elementals could live well over 500 years. The boy had always wished he could have spoken to him. To see how life may have been for him when he was younger, if the divide was greater.

But it appeared that it wasn't meant to be.

The boy's parents were horrified. The authorities would try to take their only son and either write him off as an uncontrollable asset and kill him or turn him into a soldier against his will. If the villagers tried to band together to aid the boy and his family? Chances were high that the military would be called in and more would lose their lives. Every decision seemed like grabbing a sharper knife by the blade. Until a man who claimed to be from the US, despite his incredibly thick German accent, showed up on the family's doorstep and promised that he'd keep their son out of harm's way. ...All they had to do in return was sign over custody to him. It broke their hearts but if they had to choose between losing their son forever and letting him grow up in assumed safety, it was a simple decision to make. Once the papers had been signed, the man assured that everything would be cleared up with France and that the family would hear from their son again very soon.

The boy never saw his parents or his home country ever again.

He even lost his name.

"Renee Moreau? Hmmm...Well, can't have you coming to America with baggage can we? No, you need a new name I'm afraid. Something with poise, something that leaps out at you. Something that says 'hello, I'm an American and I'm proud of it! ...I know! How about...? Zeke?"

Zeke....

"Zeke!"

The ice elemental's eyes snapped awake as he rolled to his feet, a black-haired woman-couldn't have been older than twenty- lay nearby on a makeshift sleeping bag with a toddler bundled under her arms. 'Zeke' as he'd been branded by the US GOVT, stood at around six feet, zero inches and had a dark blue hoodie hanging loosley over his broad shoulders. A plain black t-shirt clung to his chest wet from having woken in a cold sweat. Brushing a hand through his cool white hair, he dusted off what looked to be snowflakes from the top of his head. "The Shade....What's wrong?" Zeke asked, his Parisian accent still clinging to his words even after years of living in America, bags under his eyes as his yellow eyes stared at the figure standing a few feet away from him. He'd called the man 'The Shade' and it was a fitting enough moniker.

Shadows swirled around the Shade's person, obscuring the cane he'd needed to walk without a visible limp, and also masked the clear age difference between the two. Zeke was chronologically only eighteen but would look as though he were at his peak for years to come. It was only when elementals started to lose their mental faculties that their physical appearance started to suffer. The Shade had been 'working' for the government since before Zeke was even born and had used his Gift, [I THINK WE'RE ALONE NOW], of the Physical typing to control his shadow and have it make up for being an old man(late 50s) in a young man's game. Despite the age difference, Zeke still considered The Shade and the rest of the Gifted hiding out with them to be his 'family.' They'd seen much, spilled blood and lost those they'd cared about together. In Zeke's mind, a 'big brother' was what was needed to try and keep everything together.

He'd met The Shade and those he'd consider his 'blood brothers' at a military base disguised as a 1960s-style summer camp. 'Camp Hope' was the name the Feds used. In hindsight, Zeke wasn't sure how much crueler they could have been calling it that. Hope's purpose was to take Gifted individuals that'd been 'bought' or straight up kidnapped from their homes or even countries in Zeke's case, and train them to be good soldiers so that when they turned eighteen? They'd be presented before generals from allied countries to see if they'd be potential fits for that country's 'MGUs (Miltary Gifted Units). During this time, Zeke did many things he's since regretted. Hurting people the government told him to, destroying buildings that were 'suspected' to be housing Gifted terrorists, and even taking innocent lives if they so much as looked too deeply into the existence of Gifted kind. It was only after meeting and forming a rather, ahem, close friendship (his brothers would tease that the chemistry between the two was obvious, much to his other brother Ink's chagrin) with another Gifted named Mai that Zeke started to create a plan to rebel and destroy Camp Hope before it was too late. Mai had been kidnapped from her home country as well-China in her case-and had been subject to all kinds of humiliating experiences like the staff wondering what would happen if Mai 'bred' with other Gifted types (usually considered a Taboo as it made beings known as Surprises-a Gifted that contains elements from two different typing. Zeke's brother Black Ink was a Surprise) and that she was weak and there was no way she'd live long enough to be recruited. Black Ink had attempted to worm his way into her life by painting a false picture of his overall influence among the base-which was to say little to none-only to be soundly beaten in front of his peers after Mai found out the truth and rejected him.

It was by fate (in Zeke's mind) that he and Mai would cross paths not too long after. He'd wished to apologize for Ink's behavior and that of the other boys across Camp Hope for treating Mai so disrespectfully. She accepted it and the two became fast friends, training together, swimming together, and continually pushing the limits to see how much they could get away with before Hope's administrators(one of whom was the very same man who'd 'bought' Zeke) cracked down on them. The key moment that made the two inseperable however was one that neither could have ever expected. The administrator had acquired an infant who's Normal parents simply couldn't handle. His Gift, [MR LONELY] would create mindless golems that resembled Greek statues and bled this foul-smelling white blood substitute and had the strength of ten men. Zeke and Mai were tasked with 'raising the infant as a sick experiment. To foist parenthood upon two teenagers who'd had their own childhood stripped away from them. It was utterly despicable but both Zeke and Mai knew that the baby played no role in it.

Mai called him 'Multi', Zeke approved, and the baby giggled.

Multi it was then.

Aa Zeke and Mai's makeshift family began to grow, the staff at Camp Hope tried to crush the growing rebellious spirit in them. Sending them on their first mission resulted in Mai losing all but one of her cabinmates, saved solely by the fact that she was a fire elemental. Further missions, struggles though they were, only served to strengthen Zeke and Mai's resolve along with the rest of their newfound family. When Zeke and Mai turned eighteen, they sprung their plan into action. Mai wounded the general's guards-to defeat them outright wasn't the goal and likely would have been a suicide mission-and Zeke tore apart the base. The adminastrator was left to rule over a frozen and burning waste. Hundreds of captives fled into the nearby woods. Many of whom would be re-captured or killed. But through the combined efforts of Zeke, Mai, and the friends they'd made, they fled with at least 100 other liberated 'campers.'

They'd been on the run ever since. Moving from city to city, state to state. In order to try and lessen the amount of people they had to try and ferry around, the group attempted to get in contact with local underground Gifted movements to try and spirit away those less capable of surviving on their own (the elderly, the weak, and those who simply didn't have Gifts conductive for combat and would likely have been executed if they were ever recaptured.) By the time they'd settled in Tucson, the original group of escapes had grown down from 107 to 50. Some had been lost to disease that nobody had the equipment/skill or ability yo treat. Others fled in the night and were presumed dead and others had successfully gone into hiding, to try and live another day and hope that society would eventually change. For the most part, the military had been trying to keep from interfering directly lest they kick up too much dirt and the media gets a hold of things before Psykers(military slang for Mental-types) could erase the minds of the masses. Working through mercenary groups and the like. Zeke made it a point to try and avoid killing those that were sent after the group. To try and gain support and show that they were just trying to live in peace. If they murdered everyone who came after them on Uncle Sam's dime, it could be used as propaganda and make it even more difficult if the Army ever officially stepped in.

...Well, today seemed to be the day.

Zeke and co had been taking refuge inside an abanonded automobile factory and supporters of their cause (a mixture of normals and Gifted) had been giving supplies (blankets/food/medical aid) but it wouldn't be too long before they'd have to likely move again. Staying too long put the other people living in the area at risk of being targeted.


"...The Army's here, kid. They're done beatin around the bush."

Zeke paled.

"...You're sure? It's not mercenaries?"

"Used my Shadow to take a peek. It's like Top Gun out there. Tanks, armored carriers, must be at least a thousand or more soldiers. Looks to be one or two MGs in the back."

MGs were the creme of the crop. If you needed something done and utterly wiped out, they were the go-to. Just the fact that they were here meant that the Feds had grown tired of this game of cat and mouse and were either going to take Zeke and the others back by force or they'd burn Tucson to the ground in trying.

"...I can tell you're hesitating, Shade."

"...He's here too."

The Shade refered to the one who'd murdered Mai's friends back when the group were just a bunch of teenagers. A lava elemental gun for hire. He never introduced himself and the kids never bothered to learn his name. He was simply 'The Mercenary.'

"...Those townspeople that've been helping us are sticking their necks out. But...." Both Zeke and the Shade knew it wouldn't be long before people got hurt. "...Okay. Okay. Elliot..." Zeke rarely ever used his brother's real names. He despised 'Zeke' but as the others had grown up calling him that, so it stuck. "...Could you take Multi? I need to speak to Mai."

"...Sure, kid. Just don't mess around. Not on something like this." The Shade's shadow quietly plucked Multi from his erstwhile mother's arms and the two quickly moved to exit the makeshift bedroom(it was the owner's office that Zeke had turned INTO a makeshift bedroom. He'd been sleeping behind the desk.) As the protests grew louder outside, Zeke reached over to shake Mai. "...My love. Please, wake up."

Fuyou-Kay Fuyou-Kay
 
Life hadn't been kind to Mai ever since she reached her teen years. Whether it was being kidnapped to never see her home or parents again, losing the new friends she did make after that, or having to live on the run, the young Chinese woman couldn't help but think sometimes that life had it out for her specifically. It was a selfish thought, of course. Plenty of people suffered as much or even more than her. Yet despite understanding this she could never fully quite perish the thought, finding herself wondering why she was dealt the hand she was.

Fortunately, she could at least say things hadn't been all bad. Mai could at least say that she'd found a new family of sorts. Even if how she'd been introduced to them was through what she considered this makeshift family's black sheep, the group she'd escaped "Camp Hope" with was something she could honestly be glad to have found. Among them though she had grown a particular fondness towards a certain two of them. Not that she would likely admit it aloud.

The first was the child that had been forced upon her: Multi. Although at first she was apprehensive of this new responsibility, she eventually found herself really feeling like the toddler's mother. For all intents and purposes, she basically was. She hoped she could give him the kind of normal life that she never got to experience, but with how life was going the prospects of that weren't looking too bright.

The second was...

"Mm..."

She stirred in her sleep for a moment, feeling a shift in weight. Not long after, there was another sensation that roused her from her rest. Her eyes slowly fluttered open as she began to wake up. She was a bit slow to rise considering they were people on the run, but for the same reason she couldn't exactly claim to have had much sleep lately. After a moment, she turned to face the one who'd woken her up. She stifled a yawn that started to rise up before speaking.

"...What's wrong?"

It took hardly a moment for her to figure something bad must have happened. Zeke wouldn't wake her up otherwise. Multi was gone, but judging by Zeke's rather gentle method of waking her up, she figured he must have already taken care of that.

MidwayLives MidwayLives
 
"...What's wrong?"

It took hardly a moment for her to figure something bad must have happened. Zeke wouldn't wake her up otherwise. Multi was gone, but judging by Zeke's rather gentle method of waking her up, she figured he must have already taken care of that.

Zeke wasn't too well acquainted with the idea of 'romanticism' and 'relationships' beyond just simply caring about those you've 'let in' so to speak. Full blooded elementals like Zeke didn't put much thought or emphasis on things like gender and sexuality. Life was life and for beings who could live for hundreds of years, you wanted to be able to take your time and not just tie yourself down into one specific role. Zeke's maternal grandfather-the legendary White Fire elemental-had been a poet, a farmer, a thief, and at one point during one of France's many wars? He served on the frontlines just like anyone else, regardless of his true nature.

Zeke, while obviously despising his situation, for many years while under the Administrator's wing, he was a killing machine. He'd simply be aimed at whoever the government wanted dead and it'd be so. Even if it included normal detectives who were digging too deep into matters that didn't concern them. He wasn't a he or a him or a she or a he. He was simply: Zeke, and that was all. It wasn't until he'd been dropped off at Camp Hope at the age of 12 that he became who he was, even still to this day, the 'big brother' figure he felt the other children needed. Someone to look up to and to be there for them when things looked bleak. One of his mouthier brothers, a physical Gifted by the name of Butch 'Earth Angel' DiAngelo, called him 'a hero from above.'

Zeke was flattered but denied such titles. He may have had great strength, the authorities at Camp Hope believed he'd be a sure candidate for the top MGU units, which would often have members much older that spent the best years of their LIVES dedicated to serving their country, by choice or by force. Zeke was up there at only twelve years old. As an eighteen-year-old standing before the woman he'd...Felt a great degree of affection for, possibly more than the rest of his found famiy, his dark blue jacket hung loosely over his shoulders, unzipped down the middle with a form-fitting black t-shirt underneath. Running his left hand up through his snow-white hair, he tried his best to meet Mai's eyes with his own chilled blue ones. "...I apologize for waking you on such short notice. I had The Shade take Multi so I could speak to you and not alarm him." Zeke glanced to the closest window which had been boarded up. Not that it'd do much good against any Gifted worth a damn. But it was the thought that counted! "....The Army is out there. The Shade estimates thousands of troops at best, possibly even more than that. Heavy artillery, tanks, armored vehicles, and so on. They're done working through proxies. They'll have us in chains" Zeke glowered, his eyes flashing a bright pupil-less yellow for a split second. "...Or make this city our grave."

Outside, the protestors and the soldiers were moments away from someone or something kicking off a massacre.

"Any individuals interfering with an officially authorized military operation by the United States Army WILL be-"

"-WILL BE WHAT?? SHOT LIKE DOGS IN THE STREET?? THE PEOPLE DESERVE TO KNOW THE TRUTH! GO AHEAD AND USE YOUR GUNS! SHOW EVERYONE IN TUCSON HOW UNCLE SAM TREATS THE UNSPOKEN MAJORITY!" One of the more vocal protestors shouted. Things were starting to get out of hand. The soldiers shoved back any protestors who got too close and those with mutations were shedding their disguises and elementals were preparing to fight. Far beyond the lines watching all of this with a pair of binoculars was one General Westlake Sr. He'd seen the army of solely normals of Saddam Hussein's Iraq crushed by the US forces and it's Allies in the Coalition, not to mention various expeditions to Panama and some classified ops in Central Africa. He'd been around the block quite a number of times and rumors had it he even had ties to Operation Belize-insurrections and riots in non-affilated countries in South America that didn't tow the line that the US wanted them to. Westlake himself chalked the rumors up to yellow journalists trying to push their rags and make a name for themselves and communist propaganda. Pulling out a cigar, he reached for a lighter only to have one of the two MGs that The Shade had spotted reach out to light it.

*fwoosh*

A white flame erupted from the tip of their outstretched finger and set the end of the cigar ablaze.

"Coulda done it myself, Alice." Westlake growled, his face looking more like scarred and worn out leather stuck on the body of a man who didn't at all give away his age. Westlake was in his late 50s by the time of Operation Crossroads, a black bomber jacket with fur cufflinks and beige slacks, his dark brown eyes peering over the rim of his tinted orange sunglasses at the woman standing next to him. She was...petite was certainly a word, if you'd saw her and didn't know who she was, you might have assumed she was simply a lost elementary school student. Alice Wakefield was one of the nation's top MGs, showing a mastery over her rare Gift-typing that hadn't been documented in years. Her platinum blonde hair was done up in a long ponytail that stretched down to the nape of her back. In lieu of a 'proper' military uniform, Alice-codename [SET FIRE TO THE RAIN]-had a long black jacket that seemed two-three sizes too big for her with her hands not visible at the end of the sleeves.

"Figured a man like you would appreciate the convenience."

"What I'd appreciate is if you folk keep your powers to yourself until I ask otherwise, yeah?"

"You sure about that, General? Seems to me the crowd's getting a bit restless..." The other MG chimed in, his voice scratchy and rather decrepit sounding. The man was hunched over and had most of his distinguishing features hidden away by a black cloak. Standing upright next to him were two black coffins. The contents of which were....unknown. "...Would you like us to go give it a trim, hm?"

"No. Pyskers are gonna be busy enough as is. Don't need you and Miss Pyro here making more work for em."

"How disappointing..." The man said, clasping his hands together. Alice huffed and floated on a manifested ball of flame. "I'm afraid I must agree with Albert. ...Disgusting as I find him to be. Full offense meant and all." Albert Schrick-[TOOL]-was a Mental-type himself. But whereas other Mental types mostly relied on telepathy and telekinesis, Albert used his to puppet along corpses that'd caught his eye for one reason or another. Using his Gift to cart around the coffins certainly made transportation a touch easier. "Your charm is as beautiful as a bouquet of rotten violets, Madame Evergreen."

"Will both of you shut up?? Christ."

Westlake was not a fan of Gifted.

At all.

...But society demanded they either be weapons or not be seen or heard. Which meant that right now it was his job to best direct his living weapons how they needed. Reaching for his satellite phone, Westlake chomped on his cigar and tried to get in touch with one of the officers trying to keep the men from turning their weapons on the hostile protestors. "Officer Bradbury, status report."

"W-We've made multiple attempts to call for Zeke and the other runaway Gifted to come out and surrender. No responses or at least none that we've been able to hear over these protestors, sir. ...Should we employ tear gas?"

"...Mhh, this is already enough of a mess. Have your men cordon the area and get any 'PRESS' the hell out of here. Use lethal force if they don't obey the lawful order, do you hear me soldier? We can't have a word of what happens here today getting out to the public at large. As for these unruly citizens, give them an order to vacate the premises. If they refuse..." Bradbury paled at the thought of having to ask his men to open fire on civilians. "Am I understood?"

"Y-Y..."

"Yes or no?"

"...Yes sir."

"Good. Now-"

The phone got snatched out of Bradbury's hand and the quivering nervousness was replaced with a much calmer masculine cadence. "Hey hey, Wes."

"....I didn't call for you."

"Yeah, I know, had to snatch this fella's phone. Kinda hurts I gotta admit. Almost feels like you don't trust me or something." The new voice came out of a figure who stood head and shoulders above Bradbury, a grey trench coat hanging on his shoulders and a fishnet top over his pale corpse-toned chest. A grey baseball cap sat backwards atop a mess of bushy brown hair and black smoke hissed out of the respirator strapped to his face. "...Which given that you guys are the ones who hired me-"

"I didn't. If I had my way, a psychopath like you wouldn't even be here. Don't even know where your loyalties lay." The man hefted his shoulders and shrugged. "I did work for the Chinese, the Soviets, hell, even the Prussians at one point, I'm pretty sure. I just go where the money takes me, Wes. Clearly, someone in the top brass values my expertise. Now, you want this crowd cleared, yeah? I can do that for you." Westlake's jaw tightened. "I gave an order to give these idiots a chance to leave first. If you go in and start offing people left and right-" The man waved off the general's concerns, even though the man couldn't actually SEE said gesture. "Relax, old timer. Keep freaking out like that and you might end up a KIA before this all wraps up. No, you might not think it when you look at me but..."

The man tossed the phone back to Bradbury who quickly dropped it and screamed in pain. The sides of the phone had been melted inwards and the smell of burnt copper wiring and plastic ebbed from it. "...I can be precise when it's called for." Wading through the crowd of soldiers, the man came face to face with one of the more louder protestors. The protestor was a rat-Mutation type. A pink ringed tail swung through a hole in the back of his jeans and both the back of his neck and hands had black fur. The rat-like incisors were another dead giveway. "What the hell do you want, Fed?!"


"Fed...? Oh, oh! You mean ME! Hahahaha, now THAT's funny. Listen, pal. What's uh, what's your name?"

The teenager narrowed their eyes and remained defiant. "It's none of your business!"

"Swell, swell. I can tell that you and your friends are really dedicated to your cause huh?"

"Of course ware, you stupid?? Men like Zeke and his friends are fighting for US! Every second we can afford them is another step towards full freedom for ALL Gifted!"

The Mercenary frowned and cracked his knuckles. "Wow. That's some real praise right there. Hey, so, I gotta ask. How far are you willing to go for your beliefs?"

The protestor huffed and glared. "What? You think arresting any of us is gonna scare us?"


"No, no. I don't think it would. I was thinking of something else..."

A trail of black smoke started to ebb off the sleeve of the Mercenary's left arm. That got the protestor's attention and he pulled at his collar, sweat starting to form.

"What's the matter, kid? You're sweating like a stuck pig. You're not wavering now are ya?"

"N-No...Never!"

"That's a good guy. Hey. Hold this for me, yeah?"

The hired killer lashed out and grabbed the protestor's head, thick black smoke started to flow out in tight plumes. The poor man's screams caught both the soldiers and fellow protestor's attention. His flesh was melted, his muscle was singed, and his bones were charred. By the time his screams died down and the Mercenary removed his bloodsoaked hand, the protestor's head was a half-melted skull. "Huh. Would you look at that? Beliefs don't mean jack shit if you don't got the power to back em up. Now then..." People screamed and Westlake's eyes went wide. What the fuck was this degenerate doing?? "What in sam hill do you think you're doing down there?? I didn't give you any authorization to-"

"Qit yackin in my ear. You wanted a solution to these idiots. I gave you one." Before Westlake could protest further, the Mercenary melted the phone in the palm of his hand, flicking the slagged remains onto the ground. He looked towards the horrified crowd, restricted from fleeing by the surrounding soldiers. "If any of you get any kinda 'I wanna be a hero' ideas then let me just say..." He kicked the soot covered skull off the spine. "Don't."

<"Zeke. I know you and the rest of your 'lil runaways' are in there. I know the ***** is in there too. I'm also gonna wager you heard all that noise just now. Well, I'm here to say that there'll be a LOT more if it if you don't get your frosty ass out here in the next ten minutes. If you ain't out here by then?"> He outstretched his left hand towards the crowd. <"Well....You know me. Don't you?"> His thought speak broadcasted across the warehouse, rattling Zeke and Mai's psyche. <"Ten minutes...~>">

~~~


"...He's here as well..."
 

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