Every day my cage would rise up into the arena, and I’d face another one of those pitiless monsters. I used every dirty trick humanity had, and they died, one after another.
Robert had proven to have hidden depths far beyond the reputation he’d cultivated, though Vincent had to admit, the part about violence was still very true. Bob was currently throwing cars around with far more passion and dedication than the relatively banal task deserved. He’d only been asked to ‘clear a path’, but two dozen airborne vehicles later, Bob’s selective interpretation of that request had become clear.
Vincent didn’t mind. He was still angry, and watching the wanton destruction was satisfying in a way that he didn’t usually experience–or allow himself to experience. But Lucia’s words had torn through him like an attack–powerfully enough that in his darker moments he almost let himself believe it had been a Psychic ability.
But truthfully, he trusted his sister. He loved her, and didn’t doubt her love for him. For a long time, they’d been each other’s only family, and that wasn’t a bond that broke easily. The more disturbing truth, however, was that he suspected his sister knew something that he didn’t. Something about him and his mother, and it pained him.
The tunnel into the abandoned subway couldn’t be cleared quickly enough, as he was anxious to unleash his powers. The display with the Embers had been largely to strike fear and respect into the group, but that was only worth doing as Embereyes really did have a significant following.
Polvane and the Erasers couldn’t make that claim. They were a small, insignificant group, one of many that had taken to the subway tunnels. They were scavengers for the most part, weak and violent, but not so lowly as those gangs that made the sewers their home. Still, they weren’t worth negotiating with.
This would be the third such group that Vincent and Robert had ‘cleaned out’, as part of one arrangement or another with the various larger gangs that had claimed the streets. The Berserker had no compunction about killing them, having his own complex feelings about the NTC gangs from his youth. Vincent, however, still wasn’t ready to let killing become normal for him.
Violence was a different story.
As Robert pushed a city bus aside, the final barrier blocking their entry, Vincent gave into the small furnace of rage that burned within him. He marched forward into the tunnel, which glowed green as his spectral form blossomed around him. There was still a walk before they were technically in Eraser territory, but movement in the darkness indicated they weren’t alone.
A ghostly hand speared forward, and a guttural scream echoed through the dark tunnel. Vincent didn’t slow as he walked down the rotting remains of the subway track, barely sparing a glance for the huddled form, gripping a leg that dangled limply.
Vincent had no pity for the man, as the Erasers stole, destroyed, and killed indiscriminately. They were far from unique in NTC, but they had the misfortune of being close to the territory that the crew had claimed in Veridicus’ name. That territory needed to grow, as did the respect the villains showed the mysterious leader of the revolution, and so Vincent went to work.
Bob charged forward as voices echoed down the tunnel, and the ocular KD Emi implanted automatically scanned him and presented what information it could.
Class: Berserker (Super-strength Variant)
Rank: Initiate (A)
The writing superimposed itself over Vincent’s vision, and was no longer intrusive after the months of using it. Emi had said she hoped to find more advanced software inside K-Tower that would display a great deal more information, but Vincent found even these small morsels fascinating. There was so much about supers that the Farm hadn’t taught them.
His entire crew were still Initiates, which was a stage any Adept who Manifested would enter. Those who didn’t were Basics, not possessing any ‘powers’ exactly, but still had vastly superior bodies compared to humans. It was mostly these castoffs that Vincent encountered now, as another spectral hand slapped away a charging figure, draped in rags and wielding a crowbar.
Class: Basic
Rank: NA
His KD announced the information as the figure went flying backward to slam into the concrete wall. The Basics weren’t much of a threat alone, at least to Vincent and Robert, who had offensive power sets. The rest of the crew would have to get more creative, however, as some of these scavengers managed to find enough Gamma to remain many times stronger than a human.
The Ranking system wasn’t new to Vincent, of course, as Adept was considered the first level in the scale, but the existence of a sub-category explained a lot. Robert’s ‘A’ for instance, was a static value that wouldn’t change as his power advanced, and it represented his overall compatibility with his class.
A sudden, powerful blast of wind sent Vincent flying into the opposite wall from which he’d just thrown his own victim, and he looked up to see something unexpected.
Class: Elementalist (Air Variant)
Rank: Initiate (D)
Vincent groaned as he regained his feet. His spectral armor, as he thought of it, wasn’t a true ability, more of a trick he’d learned after realizing his spectral hands were resistant to certain attacks. As such, he was still quite vulnerable to many attacks, and he was sure he’d find his shoulder and back heavily bruised after this encounter.
The Elementalist appeared to be a woman, though it was difficult to see in the dark tunnel. Long dark hair flew out in every direction as air currents swirled around her, and she was wearing a ragged coat to match the tattered clothing underneath. She was clearly readying another attack, and Vincent had to react quickly.
Before he was even standing straight again, Phantasmal hands flew toward her. She responded with another burst of air, which passed right through the ghostly green appendages. Vincent, though, had to grip the old metal train rails to keep from hurtling back into the wall.
Still, even as his body blew around like a flag in a hurricane, his spectral hands managed to grip the woman. One clamped around her torso, pinning her hands, while another fastened onto her skull, the fingers digging in greedily.
This was something grizzly that Vincent didn’t enjoy, but felt was ultimately necessary. A number of classes, like Elementalists, used their powers the same way that they used any other part of themselves, by sending signals from their minds into their bodies. Like any other signal, it used the brainstem and nervous system. Delicate systems which could be disrupted.
The woman screamed, and it echoed loudly and hauntingly all around them, but the wind died. She went limp after a moment, and Vincent dropped her to the rocky floor of the tunnel. He didn’t have time to check on her, as Robert was already too far ahead to be safe, so he made a note to exit the same way and find out if he’d been successful.
He’d killed three supers this way, but one had successfully lost access to their powers–permanently, if Vincent was lucky.
As he continued to move forward, Bob’s roars drawing him toward the Eraser’s main camp, Vincent considered that he’d seen very few supers in NTC beyond Initiate, and attributed it to their reliance on Gamma. It appeared to be confirming the theory that taking it prevented your body from absorbing Alpha particles from the air. Otherwise, with the storms raging endlessly above the city, everyone would be Reactive level at least, the rank that came after Initiate.
Still, he was impressed that there was even a single Manifested super here beyond Polvane, the Erasers’ leader. Even if she was only a D Initiate, she represented a level of power that most gangs would fear. Once more Vincent wondered what his own rating was, still irritated that he and Danny’s ‘restricted’ classes meant the KDs didn’t display anything for them.
He smiled though, knowing that it was the reason he’d been able to surprise so many when he finally summoned his abilities. As he walked farther down the tunnel, stretching the aching muscles in his injured shoulder, he wondered at the rating, and the reason for their relative secrecy.
It was likely that the deceptively simple scale was at the root of the Gamma conspiracy. Everyone was told that the injections were the only way to gain power, despite Robert being a walking testament to the drug’s wildly skewed effects. If all Adepts had some sort of natural aptitude toward a specific class, but Gamma pushed them relentlessly toward the most common, strength-based Manifestations, then ‘stay balanced’, was more meaningful than anyone knew.
Vincent disabled another two Basics, one with a spectral attack, another using the hand-to-hand combat training he’d received at the Farm, and more recently with Arthur. He was surprised by how easy the latter was. His physical abilities were truly progressing at a rate he’d never experienced before, in part from his Manifestation, but also from the constant Alpha bath the Radstorms provided.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
By habit, he brought up his personal interface.
Name: Vincent Villari
Class: Specter [Restricted]
Rank: Initiate 3 [87%]
Primary Attribute: Intellect
Unlocked Abilities:
Phantasm (Rank 5)
Physicality:
* Strength: 16
* Agility: 12
* Endurance: 14
Mind:
* Intellect: 25
* Empathy: 6
* Ingenuity: 21
Vincent had grown used to staring at that screen over the many months he’d waited for his abilities to recover. The tag ‘Recently Manifested’ had become a source of constant irritation, and he’d grown a bit obsessive about his own advancement since it finally went away. Hearing that Lucia had earned a second ability at hitting Initiate 5 gave him even more motivation.
As his thoughts turned to his sister once again, he felt the anger and confusion building within him once more, and he increased his pace. Soon he was charging down the tunnel, as if he were Berserker Bob, and the half-mad, half-starved Erasers fell before him like wheat to a scythe.
Finally the darkness gave way to light, as he reached the pathetic collection of mattresses and blankets that served as the gang’s camp. It was on an old subway platform, and Vincent was distracted by ancient advertisements for products that were neither NGG or K-Tech based. He paused to look at a worn poster for some kind of breakfast cereal, and nearly died for it.
The dim light of several torches reflected off of a shard of metal as it flashed by his face. Vincent dropped to one knee, and hastily hardened a layer of spectral energy around himself.
“All this,” a deep voice echoed from further down the platform, “all this destruction and mayhem from some kid on his way to prom?” Vincent looked around, trying to find the source of the attack. Spotting no one, he began creeping between the various tents, shopping carts, and hanging blankets that littered the platform.
The flickering light illuminated another projectile, and this time he managed to deflect it with a Phantasmal hand. He noted, however, that the metal had somehow damaged the appendage, and for a few moments it was hard to control. If felt…numb, somehow.
“I know who you are, kid, and you don’t need to die for some nutcase conspiracy theorist,” the voice called. Vincent smiled: word was getting around. He followed the voice, and the projectile, though kept a wary eye in case he was being baited.
“I’m real, kid. I have real power, not just stories and nonsense to make the sheep donate to some cause,” the voice said again. “You should join us! The Erasers have Gamma to spare.”
Utterly untrue, but Vincent respected the attempt. He had expected Polvane to be another Gamma-starved lunatic, but the crude attempt at diplomacy was novel. Roars echoed toward them from the tunnel, and Vincent looked away, wondering how far Bob could be.
A glistening metallic spear slashed at him, and Vincent fell backward desperately. He examined his attacker as best as he was able while scrambling away from the relentless attacks. The man wasn’t particularly large, though he was taller than Vincent, and his face was lost in the shadows of a cowl . His clothing was white, and tight-fitting, with trails of cloth tied to it in numerous places.
As he flowed gracefully from one attack to another, the spear alternately spinning and thrusting, the white scraps of cloth trailed behind him, creating quite the spectacle. Polvane was evidently more than just the sum of his powers, as some kind of martial training was evident. The KD finally blinked out a reading, taking longer than normal.
Class: Metalmorph/Acrobat (Hybrid, Metal Manipulation/Super-Agility Variant)
Rank: Reactive (Special)
That confirmed the rumors, Vincent thought, while bringing up two spectral hands to deflect the twirling spear. Hybrids were not only rare, but extremely hard to empower, as it took more than twice the Gamma to increase their abilities. Polvane was obviously not big on sharing.
It was also quite concerning, as Vincent was a full rank lower than his opponent in two classes. Embereyes had been a Reactive as well, but fire wasn’t a considerable threat to a Specter. On the other hand, Vincent considered, being impaled dozens of times could be considered one of my weaknesses.
He was already being forced back, barely keeping ahead of the relentless attacks, while struggling to move around the countless obstacles on the platform. Worse, having already witnessed a Metalmorph when Ironfist visited the Farm, Vincent was uncomfortably aware that Polvane was toying with him.
Each time the spear slashed through or rebounded off of the Phantasmal hands, Vincent curiously noted a small flash of green, as if Gamma were being released into the air. He wasn’t certain if it was some byproduct of his spectral hands being damaged, or something he could only see because of unusual lighting they were fighting in.
Regardless, his own curiosity cost him again, as he failed to intercept a spear slash that cut neatly through his suit, and left a burning gash across his right side. Vincent cried out, and clenched his teeth against the pain. Polvane laughed, evidently enjoying himself.
Knowing this wasn’t the time to hold back, Vincent summoned two more Phantasmal arms. It was a huge drain on his stamina, but he had no hope of counterattacking without them. Polvane made a single curious sound when the second pair of hands appeared, then immediately resumed his flowing attacks.
Thus far Vincent hadn’t been able to risk using his abilities to attack, so relentless were the spear strikes, but now he did at every opportunity. He kept the hands small, with their fingers held together, as if he were wielding two green spears of his own, and after each block he sent one or both striking forward like twin vipers.
In response, Polvane unleashed his true speed. He dodged between the attacks with effortless grace, spinning, and dancing as his spear continued to dart forward. More and more of the small bursts of Gamma flashed out, and Vincent was sweating as he struggled to match the man’s remarkable pace.
He knew he was outclassed, and at this point was simply hoping that Robert would be here soon enough to make the difference. Still, Vincent tried everything he could. He attempted to keep one of his attacking arms incorporeal until the last moment so it couldn’t be turned aside, but the concentration that required meant he took another spear slash to the left side.
Polvane managed the counter even while jumping over the incorporeal hand, and he increased his pace even further in reaction to the new tactic. Vincent was now being pressed back at such a pace that he was nearing the far wall of the platform, and in his increasingly panic-ridden state he was sure he could feel each burst of Gamma resonate with his beating heart.
Polvane wasn’t even winded, evidenced by his now continuous laughter, and Vincent felt his rage grow. With a desperate gamble, he slashed out with all four of his Phantasmal arms at once, and managed to catch his opponent somewhat by surprise.
While three of the arms were knocked aside, one grazed Polvane’s shoulder, and the man let out a scream of rage, backing away. Vincent allowed the arms to withdraw inside him, grateful for the brief reprieve. Polvane looked down at his shoulder, and Vincent wondered–not for the first time–how it must feel to have the molecules that made up your body shredded from the inside.
Evidently, it was painful enough to drive the man into a rage, as he finally stopped toying with Vincent. He moved forward once more, and at last the other side of his abilities revealed themselves, as the spear began to grow and twist like a tentacle made of steel.
Vincent summoned his abilities once more, but his rational mind knew they wouldn’t be enough to stop a spear that could attack from any angle. Once again he glanced at the tunnel, hoping to see the familiar form of Robert charging toward him. Again, he paid for the split second distraction, as he felt the spear lance through his stomach.
He’d been holding his arms in front of him like a series of shields, thankfully deflecting the attack enough that it didn’t sever his spine. As the spear retreated however, he saw that the damage was considerable as a spurt of blood burst through his torn suit. He collapsed to his knees from shock, and the spectral hands dissipated.
“You hurt me, you insolent little shit!” Polvane accused as he walked slowly forward. Vincent’s left hand clamped over the wound, but combined with the slash on his side and leg, blood loss was starting to become a problem. He was already light-headed, and his thoughts were growing less focused.
“You dare to invade the Erasers’ home!?” Polvane shouted. “I will string your body up as a warning to any other fools who might make the same mistake!” Vincent barely heard the grim promise, as his eyes wandered aimlessly over his surroundings.
The torchlight is pretty, he thought. It wasn’t something you had a reason to encounter on the farm, and he found it strangely cozy, despite the circumstances. His eyes continued to drift, and he felt himself wobble. His gaze went to something reflecting the lovely flickering lights on the floor of the platform.
At first he couldn’t make it out, and Polvane’s continued ramblings were a distraction. Ignoring the man, Vincent forced his eyes to focus, and realized it was the relic Danny had given him. The inner pocket of his suit must have been torn by the attack.
He absently raised his other hand to feel at his chest, missing the familiar lump of the relic pressed against him. Doing so, Vincent realized the thumping he’d felt throughout the fight was absent. Did my heart already stop? he wondered in a detached way.
He was distantly aware that Polvane was walking toward him, spear raised for a killing blow. Oddly, his only thought was that he wished he still had his present. He had so few possessions at the Farm, and something truly his was a novel experience. That it was a gift from his closest friend made it even more precious.
Ignoring the talking blur, he reached for the relic, but found that it was too far. His body wouldn’t listen to him either, and he couldn’t bring it to lean forward. He felt so heavy. Irritated, he summoned his spectral hand, which easily made up the distance. Vincent smiled as the small green fingers closed over the hexagonal object.
Then the world exploded around him.