M.J. Saulnier
Semi-Retired User
2012
Citadel Bay Waterfront, Citadel City, NY
The sun was setting on Citadel City as Blaze Barton II, A.K.A. Ignito, frantically made his way down the waterfront just south of Thorne Tower. He sprinted at full speed against the chilly autumn air, panting and sweating as he navigated the esplanade searching for a suitable route to cover his escape. He weaved around and forced his way though crowds of pedestrians, frustrated by the attention it was drawing toward him. He hung a sharp right, away from the bay, and through a narrow passage between two buildings. Coming upon an eight-foot chain link fence he began to scale it, making his way into the more industrial section of the southern waterfront, grinning as he gave a glance of his shoulder. He forced his way through an old wooden door, a haze of dust surrounding him as he entered the dark warehouse.
Daedalus emerged from the dust as it began to settle, only moments behind Ignito. It scanned the warehouse using an infrared camera to detect Blaze's heat signature. It swayed gently back and forth in the air as it scanned the interior of the structure, its tiny wings fluttering eight-five times per second. Barton's heat sig was like a road flare, impossible to miss. As a result of the properties of his hereditary pyromancy his core body temperature was always elevated. He didn't notice any physiological differences, but to an infrared camera, he might as well be a raging barrel fire. He was hiding behind some stacked crates, likely taking a breather before making another mad dash for downtown.
The voice of John Lancaster, A.K.A. Icarus, boomed from Daedalus's two-way communications system. "This is your final warning, Ignito. Surrender or be taken down by force."
Ignito emerged from behind the stack of crates. "I'm not going back to Ravenhurst, Bird Boy. You want me?" he asked, raising his right palm toward Daedalus. "Then you'll have to kill me," he finished before spewing forth a plum of flames from his palm that engulfed Daedalus. It quickly maneuvered away from the flame, camera lens covered with a thin layer of soot. Blaze grinned, having temporarily blinded Daedalus, effectively binding Icarus to his location and movements. He sprinted toward a door in the far back of the building, looking to make his escape.
The door flew open with a bang as Ignito kicked it as hard as he could, stepping through only to be frozen in his tracks. Icarus stood before him, arrow drawn and ready to find its mark. Blaze opened his mouth almost as if to plead his case or reason with him. Before his vocal cords could produce sound, John released the bowstring, and a standard issue titanium arrowhead penetrated his torso at center of mass.
The impact seemed to startle him, as though he hadn't expected Icarus to actually go through with it. Ignito's dumbfounded gaze drifted from John to the arrow hanging out of his abdomen just below the solar plexus. He couldn't help but take a mental note of how accurate the shot was. That was just Blaze. He looked back at John. His mouth formed a grin, but his eyes contorted with fear and confusion. The reality that he was dying had begun to set in, and all support his legs had been providing was gently pulled from beneath him. He hit the ground, gargling blood as he struggled to take in air, gazing with horror at John, who now stood over him returning his gaze with one of a suppressed disgust and guilt.
The voice of Owen Thorne, A.K.A. Crusader, came over the team com system. "Icarus? We have Osmosis cornered on the roof of Thorne Tower."
John listened and watched as Ignito struggled through his last attempt at a breath. "I'm on my way."
*****
Thorne Tower, Citadel City, NY
Crusader took a deep, nervous breath as John finished speaking through the coms. He stood before Allen Shaw, A.K.A. Osmosis. On the side opposite Crusader was Christopher Stokes, A.K.A. Lone Star. Between them and to the left stood Michelle McNeil, A.K.A. Omega Woman. Laura Jane Harper, A.K.A. Red Spectre, appeared seemingly out of thin air, standing next to Owen. They had just finished foiling a direct attack on Thorne Enterprises led by Shaw himself. The attack appeared to be targeting Owen specifically, and not Thorne Enterprises. Few staff had been hurt and damage to the building had been minimal, all things considered.
"It's over, Shaw! You can't beat me," Lone Star said in his stern, authoritative 'Lone Star' tone of voice.
"And you can't outrun me," Omega Woman reminded him, arms crossed as she leered at him.
"Trouble isn't far away," Crusader informed everyone urgently.
Shaw turned to him, a grin no doubt spreading across his face from underneath his black and red mask. "You know, you ought to try relaxing a little more often, Owen."
Crusader tightened his brow as the others gave him a concerned glance. It was a surreal experience to hear a masked foe speak your real name aloud. Owen's cover had been blown wide open. Shaw had stumbled into the knowledge of Crusader's identity with a fated handshake seventeen hours prior. Shaw raised his right hand, clutching his mask and tugging it free. There was little point in hiding his face now.
"Always the hero, Owen. Saving humanity by day, and again by night. Must be exhausting...trying so hard to fill your father's shoes," Shaw said, grinning as he narrowed his gaze.
"That's enough. It's over, Shaw. Don't make this more difficult than it has to be," Michelle commanded, taking several steps toward Shaw.
As Michelle spoke to Shaw, Owen faintly heard the fluttering buzz made by the wings of Daedalus approaching from behind him. Shooting a glance of his shoulder, his sight fixed upon the tiny metallic machine fluttering toward them. A tiny red light flashed repeatedly indicating that a homing arrow was active and currently tracking its target.
Owen's eyes widened with horror. "No!" he exclaimed as his body prepared to move between Daedalus and Shaw. Before anyone could react, a single homing arrow pierced Shaw's back, glancing the spinal cord and perforating the left lung on impact. Shaw gasped, gnashing his teeth as he winced in pain. Chris rushed to him as he fell toward his knees. Chris managed to catch him, lowering him to the floor and supporting his body in his arms. He clutched the left hand of his arch nemesis in his right palm, squeezing tightly.
"Take my healing, Shaw!" No response from Shaw, only a smile as his eyes rolled into the back of his head.
"Shaw!" Chris yelled emotionally. "Take it!" he pleaded, gently shaking Shaw in his arms.
Icarus swooped in, landing firmly on his feet, still holding bow in hand. His mechanical wings retracted as he approached Osmosis looking for visual confirmation that the kill shot had been made. Chris leered at him with horror and disgust, giving Michelle cause for concern. Chris looked like he may have it out with John next. John examined the expressions on all of their faces. Part of him was hurt by their disgust, anger and disappointment, but it had to be done. One day they would be able to admit that, and thank him for it.
"It's done." John said coldly.
"You killed him, John," Owen said harshly. It went beyond disappointment for Owen, it was a personal failure of sorts. For years he had tried to work with John on bettering himself and burying the violence his fight against the mafia brought out of him. All of that progress was just flushed down the toilet before his eyes, and a man lay dead because of it.
"It's done!" John repeated himself. This time louder, with more aggression and conviction. He turned his back to them, his expression cold, hardened over like armor, protecting the parts of himself deemed to be weak. Pushing off the ledge, his wings expanded and he took flight, heading in the direction of Lancaster Plaza.
Michelle approached Owen, standing next to him. "They know who you are, Owen..."Owen digested her words for a moment. It was an unsettling, uncertain feeling.
*****
Witmore Tower, Citadel City, NY
The Phantom made his way through the foyer of Witmore Tower dressed in full Phantom attire. As he passed the receptionist, she froze in place, her nervous eyes timidly following his form across the foyer. She dared not let a breath escape her lips, lest he take notice of her and flay the skin from her bones using only the power of his mind, or something heinous and grotesque in nature. Invoking irrational fear and paranoia within those around him was what he did best, and he couldn't help but leave the dial set to one at all times, even when there was nothing to gain by doing so. It had become like a defense mechanism for him.
Lifting a hand and extending a finger as he approached the elevator, he pushed the button ahead of time using his telekinetic abilities. This late at night very few people were moving around the buildings floors, so the doors slide open as he reached them. Once inside, he lifted his finger again, pressing the B2 button on the console.
The elevator reached its destination and the doors slide open revealing a long, dark corridor that seem to lead to yet another elevator. He entered, heading down another five basement floors this time. The elevator doors opened into a pitch black hallway. As The Phantom made his way down the length of the hallway, motion sensor lights would turn on as he passed under them, and off again once he was gone. At the end of the hallway he reached a towering, decorative set of arched double doors. Raising both hands, Phantom telekinetically pushed the doors open with a loud groan of the heavy metal.
Entering the room he stood before a figure cloaked in shadow and seated in an antique throne at the back of the large, sweeping chamber.
"What news have you brought me?" The Master asked Phantom in a scratchy, rumbling, inhuman tone of voice.
Phantom hesitated because there was no easy way to say it, and failure was not The Master's favorite subject. At least this failure was not his, but Shaw's.
"Shaw and Barton...they both died tonight at the hands of Icarus and the Fellowship," Phantom reported indifferently, hiding any trace of fear he may have been feeling having to deliver such news.
The Master's right hand formed a tight fist. So tight that his knuckles became a pale white. Crimson droplets of blood dripped from his hand as talon-like finger nails dug into the flesh on his palm. A rage unlike this world had seen in centuries was swelling to a head within him. Phantom became unnerved by it. This is exactly what he was worried about. This night would forever alter the course of history, for better or worse.
The Master rose from his seat, startling Phantom so much that he took two steps backward.
"If it's war they want... Then war they shall have!"
Presents
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