Constance ran over to a door on the side, she tried opening it, but it was a metal door, without a lock. “Dammit, I need to help Thomas.”
Byron pushed her aside, “Constance, please.”
“No, I am not going to abandon him.”
Byron sighed deeply and pushed her further aside, he used voodoo powers and ripped open the door. “I wanted to tell you, I can open the door.”
Constance giggled awkwardly, “Oh, sorry.”
Byron smiled at her as he walked inside, when they entered the main room, some people were dead, most of them were soldiers, and the soirée seemed to be abandoned. Constance called out, “Thomas?”
Charlotte ran into the room, “Byron, thank god, I heard the super soldier is on his way here, there are about a hundred soldiers right around the corner.”
Byron clenched his fists, “Damn, where is my mother?”
“She took the others to safety, Mark is dead, the MCG, do we have it?”
Constance nodded, “I have it, right here, I am not giving it to anyone. Did this Fay save my Thomas?”
Charlotte shook her head, “If you mean the man who was with you, then the answer is no.”
Thomas called out from a little hallway, “Is it safe?”
Constance laughed, “You are not dead?”
“No, I hid in the closet in this hallway, there is an exit here.” Many soldiers stormed inside. Thomas grunted, “Oh no, we are going to die.”
Charlotte laughed at the soldiers, “I am so glad you stopped on by.”
As the first wave of soldiers approached, Charlotte raised her hands, fingers adorned with intricate voodoo charms. Unleashing her powers, she conjured ethereal flames that danced around her, a manifestation of the raw energy coursing through her veins. With a graceful yet commanding gesture, she directed the flames toward the approaching soldiers, engulfing them in a fiery maelstrom.
In close combat, Charlotte’s movements were a seamless blend of elegance and lethality. A voodoo blade materialized in her hand, its edge shimmering with an otherworldly glow. With each strike, she danced through the chaos, her blade finding its mark with uncanny precision. Her agility and speed were mesmerizing, as if she were an extension of the shadows themselves.
Byron took a deep breath, “Constance, I will be fueled by anger, there is no other way I am going to help Charlotte and get us out of here alive. This might look scary, I have not let myself go like this for a while.” He ran into the dancing fray that Charlotte found herself in.
Thomas grabbed Constance by her shoulder, “We should run, now!”
In the midst of the skirmish, Byron’s Voodoopunk powers ignited with an almost primal ferocity. His movements were a whirlwind of calculated strikes and evasive maneuvers, and his voodoo infused weapons gleamed with an otherworldly light.
Byron’s primary weapon, a voodoo infused sword, arced through the air with a deadly grace. Each swing seemed to channel the elemental force within him, cutting through the soldiers with a combination of precision and sheer power. His fiery hair danced as if it was responding to the rhythm of the battle, adding to the spectacle of his onslaught.
Constance and Thomas made their way to the exit that Thomas had secured, “Are we just going to leave them?” She looked back at Charlotte and Byron, fighting back to back in perfect synchrony.
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As Byron fought, he harnessed the elemental fury of fire. Flames trailed his every movement, leaving a wake of destruction in his path. Soldiers who dared to approach found themselves facing not only a formidable swordsman but also a living embodiment of voodoo infused fire.
With a roar, Byron unleashed a burst of voodoo energy, engulfing a group of soldiers in an inferno. The flames danced and twisted, responding to his will, as if the very essence of fire had become an extension of his Voodoopunk abilities.
Thomas grabbed her by her arm, “Come on, we have to escape, right now, into the sewers, right?”
Constance nodded and followed him, she took one look back as she heard Byron and Charlotte chanting, how they could face such odds and still fight with such ferocity, was insane.
Byron looked at them running away, “How are you doing, Charlotte?”
She sliced her sword through the nearest soldier’s throat, “I am fine. Where is Jackie when we need her?”
Byron grunted as he blocked a strike and used fire to burn a soldier, “You know, I can understand why the super soldier would like fire, but even my fire does not burn as hot as his.”
Charlotte laughed as she rolled aside and blasted a hole through one of the soldiers, “When are you going to tell me who the super soldier is, I know you know.”
Byron jumped aside, but he got cut and blood splattered around, “I am still injured, we need to get out of here, there are too many of them,” they heard a van stop outside. “Oh god, he is here.”
The wall was smashed to pieces and John walked inside, he looked at Byron and Charlotte fighting side by side, “Well, I had expected that the force of at least two hundred soldiers would do, but most of them are dead.”
Charlotte gasped, “John?”
“Excuse me, do I know you, do you even have time to talk?”
Charlotte stabbed her sword through a soldier’s heart, “Oh, I can talk, does your sister know?”
“My sister?”
“Yeah, she is right outside, you know you are fighting against your daughter, right?”
John grunted, “What are you talking about?”
Byron sighed, “We talked enough, it is time for us to make our great escape, just like the others, sorry, John, we have the MCG.”
Byron looked at his wife, their bond, forged through both love and a shared commitment to the Voodoopunk cause, manifested in a powerful chant intended to tip the scales in their favor.
Byron and Charlotte, their eyes locked in a silent understanding, began to weave a potent chant that resonated with ancient Voodoopunk rituals. The words, spoken in unison, carried a harmonic energy that seemed to transcend the mundane realm. The surrounding air crackled with voodoo infused power as they delved into the depths of their shared abilities.
John knew he could interrupt them but, how they were able to chant, and survive the onslaught of soldiers said enough. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.
As the chant reached its crescendo, voodoo energies surged from their intertwined hands, creating a pulsating wave that rippled through the battlefield. The very fabric of reality seemed to warp in response to the sheer force of their combined Voodoopunk prowess.
The effects of the chant manifested in a temporal stasis that enveloped John, the super soldier, and all the surrounding soldiers. Time itself seemed to pause, freezing them all in mid-action. The chaotic battlefield came to an eerie standstill, as if caught in a momentary suspension.
Byron and Charlotte, their features strained with the effort of channeling such immense power, seized this opportunity. Their eyes, ablaze with determination, met briefly before they made their escape through the now motionless soldiers.
John scratched his head, he could feel himself slowing down, but he could move. Did they just, freeze time? Or is it just an illusion? He looked at his hand, Yes, an optical illusion that the human brain cannot see through. Oh well, I guess it is my turn, he started chasing them, he did feel slowed down, but it did not take long for him to regain his full speed. As he walked outside, they were nowhere to be seen.
John grumbled, He contacted his superior officer, “Hello, John the super soldier asking for permission.”
A static sound could be heard, “John, what are you asking permission for?”
“Byron and Charlotte used voodoo powers to escape, I think they escaped into the sewers, they have the MCG. They are now drained and powerless, do I have permission to enter the sewers to get it back?”
It was silent for a moment, “John, do whatever is necessary to retrieve that MCG, we slaughtered many Voodoopunks, but those four leaders, they have powers beyond our understanding.”
“Yes sir, I will do my best to get the Voodoopunk leaders and hasten their demise in the process of retrieving the MCG.” John entered the sewers, he used his crimson eye to scan the area. Strange energy hung around for optical illusion. A normal person would never find their hideout. He could sense more people in the sewers.
He steeled his resolve, “I have been created for this purpose, I can do this, come on John, time to meet with my sister and crush the rebellion once and for all.”
Byron looked from the shadows at him, he whispered to Charlotte, “Constance, and Thomas are here somewhere, Jackie is looking for them. We should head to the base in case John finds it, not even he can stand against the full might of our group, he is on our turf now.”