Episode: 1.12

--- King ---

It had been awhile since he felt it.

(Not since that thing with the Dead Doctor…)

A smirk made its way to his face, at the thought of that Deadman.

(Almost wish I could get another round with that son of a bitch.)

He shifted through the boxes, searching for anything else he could make use of, having already raided the cleaning and cooking supplies from a nearby snack shop, and now working his way through a toy store.

(So many fun things to play with, so little time…)

Old instinct were itching. Practically begging him to let them out of the cage, so they could scratch, claw, and play with whatever had set him off. And if it weren’t for the kids and Rook, well, he may’ve let the old beast off its chain regardless of consequences.

(These guys really should consider themselves lucky…)

That thought made him cackle as he dismantled a number of the more mechanical toys for spare parts.

(Someone’s watching.)

He didn’t stop moving, though his eyes did jump to the security mirror above the place he’d chosen to work, for that very defense.

Sure, from his position the attacking party could shoot him in the back but given how they were taking hostages they wanted people alive not dead. Whether this was for a bargaining tool when the police or Sanctuary showed up, or because they wanted the people alive for something else, he didn’t know.

Nor did he really care.

All it meant was they wouldn’t shoot him in the back, even if they likely mistake his tinkering for an M.A.D. sparking out. (Hell, it’ll probably even make them think twice about messing with me.)

Regardless, the mirror showed an empty store save him and the various mechanized toys he was cannibalizing for parts.

Or it was, until it suddenly wasn’t.

From seemingly nowhere someone in a gasmask and black jacket appeared, a faint displacement of air the only audible sound as a faint cloud of green smoke quickly faded away.

He had to keep himself from tensing, from giving away the fact that he was aware of the Mask’s presence even as if he chose to continue working.

(Well, that explains where everyone disappeared to…)

The mask just watched him, as if trying to puzzle out just what the mad man before them was doing in the middle of a terrorist attack.

He on the other hand, watched the mask, puzzling out how to best attack the enemy Deviant.

(Alright, let’s see… power type?)

There were a number of Deviant types that enabled teleportation, in fact it’d be easier to name the types that had no recorded instances of teleportation. That said, based on past experience and what he could see, the Mask was (most likely a Warp-Anomaly.)

Tricky, but not unbeatable.

(Combat class? Teleporters are always Tactical-Infiltrators, but other classes are unknown.)

If the Mask had a third class, that’s where the difficulty would come into play.

(Threat rating? Teleporters default to C-Rank, outside of other skills and abilities, but if he can bring other people with them that ups them to a (C+) or (B-) depending on their warp range.)

He couldn’t remember any Warp-Anomalies that fit that criteria in New Haven, which wasn’t a particularly good thing since he knew every Mask that frequented his city.

(So, he’s an out of towner… That’s bad in the short-term, but it might be a good thing in the long term…)

It meant he had no idea who he was dealing with, which was bad. But it also meant that if the local heroes got involved the Mask would have a similar disadvantage as everyone else, just with everyone else outnumbering the foreign Mask.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

(Unless one of the other thugs is a Deviant…)

That was a point worth pondering, but it was one he also wouldn’t get an answer to until he was already in the thick of it.

(Just going to have to roll with the punches… again…)

During all of these thoughts the other man still hadn’t moved, seemingly content to simply watch him tinker away. Something that immediately put him on edge given it’d been a good few minutes since the Mask had found him.

(Can’t tell if they’re being cautious or stupid… Then again M.A.D.s are infamous for their hyper focus when sparking…)

He remembered a young woman with wild black hair, and sapphire blue eyes that shone with a spark of life no one else could match.

(Like Cass…)

He shook his head before tossing a useless part in frustration, the act (of catharsis) covering his action, and fully plausible for an irritated and sparking M.A.D.

(Damn it, got to stay on task.)

Deciding that the waiting game could only last for so long, he flexed his wrist a few times while reaching for a random part, allowing him to subtly palm one of the knives he always kept on him.

(No, going back once you do this…) A voice in his head warned.

(There was never any going back…) Another laughed, madness tainting the familiar voice.

Sighing to himself, he rubbed the back of his neck, before glancing over his shoulder.

“So, are we doing this or not?”

The mask watched him for another moment, before disappearing in a cloud of smoke.

(Assassin’s backstab.)

A normal person’s first instinct would be to roll forward or dodge to the sides, trying to get away from the threat.

An experienced person’s first instinct would be to roll back or stand up, attacking the threat before it could realize it.

He spun into a half-turned crouch just as the unnamed Mask appeared behind him with a faint whisper of wind, leaving him free to knock aside the knife that would’ve punctured his jugular if he hadn’t moved.

Taking advantage of the Mask’s surprise, he stepped forward as he stood, twisting the Deviant’s arm away and leaving them wide open for a knife through the stomach.

Just as his knife met the Mask’s jacket, they teleported back, putting an amount of distance between them and ending the first round of their fight. Leaving them both free to once more eye each other, as they dissected anything they may’ve picked up from that initial skirmish.

After a moment the Mask seemed to realize something as they glanced down, before running a hand over the torn fabric where Jericho had almost gutted them.

The Mask froze for a split second, and he tensed knowing full well what was coming.

The Warp-Anomaly suddenly disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

(4:30)

Turning to the sound of moving air, he knocked aside the Mask’s blade, before watching as they once more disappeared as their forearms connected.

(9:15)

Spinning he slashed before the Mask could attack, only to cut through a cloud of smoke.

(6:00)

He ducked forward, swinging his leg around to try and sweep the Mask off their feet, and while he did hit them, it proved fruitless when they disappeared before even touching the ground.

(Damn it!)

(7:30)

He dove to the side, throwing his knife as he did so, catching the Mask in their shoulder as they were unable to react to the small but sharp piece of metal.

Another pair of whispers saw the Mask on the other side of the store, clutching their bleeding shoulder and glaring at the knife.

(They’re injured. Smart thing to do is run and get reinforcements. I can’t let them do that.)

“Ouch, that looks like it stings.”

The Mask turned their glare on him, causing him to put on a frown.

“Hey, you were trying to stab me first!” He reminded the Mask indignantly. “You can’t blame me for being better at it than you! Clearly that is your fault for not being a very good assassin, not mine! Next time you try to kill me, do it right, because this was just plain insulting!”

With a barely audible growl, the Mask (stupidly) tore the knife from their shoulder, before tossing it on the ground as they disappeared in another burst of smoke.

(Come on, take the bait…)

(5:30)

(Yes!)

He spun on his heel, knocking aside the Mask’s blade, while stepping forward into their space, causing the Mask to teleport once more.

(6:00)

He threw his arm back as he swung his hips, both avoiding a knife to the kidney and driving an elbow into the Mask’s face.

(You’d think they’d figure out that, backstabbing doesn’t work when someone is expecting it.)

While the Mask was still disoriented from the blow to their head, and before they could teleport anywhere, he stepped forward grabbing them by the throat, before driving his back-up knife into a non-lethal section of their stomach.

The Mask tensed, before looking down in shock.

“Oh, thought I only had one of these?” He questioned curiously, before shaking his head. “Amateur mistake.”

With that said, he drew back his fist and drove it straight between the Mask’s eyes, knocking them out as they flew back.

(Hopefully, that’ll keep them down for a few minutes…)

As he watched the down Mask, making sure they weren’t playing possum, part of him was tempted to steal their mask, knowing they’d be more likely to flee without it. At the same time though, (I’m pretty sure there’s a certain, ‘honor among thieves’ type of thing that applies here.)

Shrugging to himself he walked over to the downed Mask, before prying off their jacket and wrapping it around their head, effectively cutting off any line of sight they may’ve had.

It was a simple tactic, one that tended to stop most teleporters.

(Unless they were willing to risk ending up inside of a wall or are strong enough to warp to a remembered location.)

Both tricks were rare talents that he couldn’t really deal with at the moment, given the rest of the Mask’s comrades holding Rook hostage.

Still he tied the Mask’s hands together with an entire roll of packaging tape he’d found in the back of the store when searching for parts, just to discourage their interference when they woke up. Given how the Mask had an unknown warp rating, he wasn’t honestly expecting them to still be there when he got back, which was disappointing…

(At the very least I still get to mess with the guys who threatened Rook and those kids.)

Now that was a consolation prize he could enjoy, far more than was healthy.