Chapter 11 - The Man Who Challenged The Storm

The low whir of the fans, the blinding lights, the hum of the electronics buzzing with the same frequency he was. When Pouria walked through the doorway into the auditorium, Thunder awaited his arrival with a glistening, iron-toothed smile.

He wore a shimmering white and gold robe over his unnaturally-muscled body, blustering in an equally unnatural wind. He stood on a stage, backed by a massive greenscreen and a statue that was nearly two stories tall depicting the abhorrent form of a massive man with four wings. For all its detail, it still had a face that was blank and featureless, but as it reflected the spotlights, Pouria could sense that it was watching him without eyes, judgment gazing down upon him through the dark clouds. It loomed above the one who brought him here, at the center of all of this, the eye of the storm, Thunder.

Crowds of Thunder’s goons, some looking like newly recruited psychos, were out of sight of the cameras. Those cameras now faced Pouria as he walked through the door. The equipment was manned by the Stormcloud’s manic men and women who seemed like they belonged in a place like this, where the mad ones of this bleeding world went to live and die.

Pouria certainly saw that madness within the eyes of a man he’d fought long before. That man discarded his cape just as he did to sanity long ago, stepping down the small flight of stairs with a laser-focused gaze upon his rival.

“Welcome, I am glad that you arrived, Pouria.” he spoke in a bellowing voice that echoed into the highest rafters of the dilapidated hall. “I’ve waited long to see your face once again, and now, in the final act, you’ve come to face me in our last battle.”

Pouria stood stalwart, not wanting to step forward, but his feet moving on their own. He strode down the walkway, each step raising the heightened sense of doom in Pouria’s shuddering chest. But there was not a moment that the Mayor regretted stepping into this room; not an ounce of fear remained in him either, having cast that off moments ago. His shuddering was like his body itself was telling him to turn back, The Bear was screaming at him without a voice to stop.

He didn’t listen.

Instead, he spoke with an awe-inspiring, prideful tone, giving Thunder what he knew he wanted: A performance that was fit for the ending of a movie. An ending of a movie that shouldn’t have been a sequel. “You were wrong about my weakness, Fallen Star. I am here, here to prove to you and the world that I am not weak, not afraid, nor do I speak defended by tricks and lies. Our flares are equal now, and I wish to ask you one more time… Do you accept my challenge?”

The silence across the room hung for a moment as Pouria turned his gaze up to where the blank eyes of the angel peered down upon him. He whispered to it, softly, knowing it could hear his passionate defiance no matter what. “I will decide when my term ends.”

He then looked back down at Thunder, who was standing with arms splayed, clearly enjoying Pouria’s acting. But Pouria knew that this was no act, this was his truth. No more would he stand within Thunder’s, and the whole city’s, perception of weakness. He was here, even if he died in the battle to come, he knew Thunder would release this movie to the world, and all would see his legacy, his desire for change in this cruel, oppressed city.

Maybe then, he could gaze down from the same heavens that the angel watched him from, and he would see humanity’s candle reignited.

Thunder laughed, rumbling the whole auditorium with his madness. “Now this is interesting! You have only proven me more right than ever.”

“How so?” Pouria asked.

“I knew I was wrong about your weakness, you have got strength in you, I see it in the way you stand there. I have learnt now that Soulflares are not a symbol of weakness. In fact, it is the opposite!” Thunder began, sounding like he’d rehearsed each word tirelessly. He didn’t make a single mistake, not a single slip up. For this was the only take he would get. “But maybe your weakness is a disillusioned mind, thinking that this city needs a single, ultimate savior; a leader to control it as everyone sits back with laze. My gang doesn’t see me as their leader, I am their father, just as my father led us before, back when we were all putting on a show. Tonight, we’re puttin’ on another show, all of us, working hard, just like before, planned out for months, all backed by our collective passion. In the finale, the world shall see that they can be like me.”

“Why would anyone want to be like you?” Pouria asked.

“You are like me already, Pouria. Out there, in the Wastelands, you fought to survive. You hunted, you killed, you spent every day and night grinding. Anyone can be strong, anyone can be their own savior, anyone can be a star, and anyone can grind, and rise, and thrive! I may be a Fallen Star, Pouria, but whether I win or lose, change will happen. As the Angel says, I will return to the sky where legends retire, my legacy everlasting. I will look down upon this city as everyone in it will see that they need no leader, and they will be the force of change that we all need. The people deserve better than the shit they are getting, and I will put an end to it.”

Pouria listened with an uncomfortable understanding. So much of what this man spoke resonated with him, it hit true to a younger self that wanted change, he wanted the people to rise up and end the self-oppression humanity had endured for years. He even renamed the city after what he thought would be the driving force of change, but yet he failed to change anything.

So much of him wanted to surrender now, and try to reason with Thunder. Perhaps they could fight alongside one another, but he knew that the madman was too dead-set on the finale of his movie to care. It was that divide, that metaphorical scar he had given him long ago, it set him on a warpath.

It was time to tear the wound open.

“Let’s get it over with then.” Pouria said, the surge of his Soulflare energy coursing through his body as his fury manifested in The Bear, ready to fight, ready to die.

“Give me a show that’s worth all this effort, maggot!”

With a roar, Thunder ran forward toward the bear, his trembling footfall like an aura of power and fear around him as he charged forward to meet Pouria head on with no remorse. Pouria’s fist extended, and so did The Bear’s, faking Thunder out as he swiveled around it, only to succumb to the second jab from The Bear’s other hand.

Pouria moved in to get up close with his attacker as he was briefly stunned, but was quickly dispatched by a bolt of lightning. Thunder’s laugh rang out as Pouria felt the surging electricity in his veins, helplessly watching as Thunder grasped him by the throat, pouring more electricity into him with a mere touch. The power of a Soulflare was less effective against anyone with a flare of their own, but Thunder’s crushing grasp made up for it. However, Pouria knew Thunder wasn’t like him. The power of his Soulflare was artificial, he had heard many times the weakness of artificial flares was their physicality. You couldn’t damage someone’s soul, but you could harm the artificial flare’s body augments underneath someone’s skin, and luckily, Thunder’s augments were exposed.

All it took was one moment where Thunder wasn’t paying attention to The Bear, and one of his electric tubes was torn in half. He staggered back in pain, dropping Pouria, but he hardly looked finished.

Pouria shook off his wounds too, looking Thunder in the eye during the short interlude. “Well then,” he said, admiring his handiwork for a brief moment. “How many of those tubes do I have to cut until you give up?”

“You’ll have to try harder than that, Pouria!” Thunder said with a wry grin. The torn tube wriggled around as he ran forward, sealing right back into place like it was never broken. Pouria dodged Thunder’s attempt at a football tackle, realizing the weakness he’d found didn’t matter.

Pouria now realized that he had under-planned, as per usual, but it wouldn’t stop him from killing Thunder if it meant freeing Kaino.

Even though the bear could throw a mean punch, and mix up Pouria’s opponents, fighting two on one was hardly an advantage when your opponent could throw electricity and fly on a cloud. But he knew that his cloud took time to form, and if he kept up the pressure, his rival would never gain that extra mobility.

With his plan quickly formulated within the seconds between dodging Thunder’s quick jabs, Pouria retaliated as the barrage of fists put him up against the back wall beside the entrance. He willed The Bear to hover, and pick him up, and with its superhuman strength, Pouria ascended. Thunder tried to hit him, but the surprising move got Pouria out of the situation, but he wasn’t going to just flee.

Thunder fired off bolts into the air as Pouria hovered higher to the roof, but The Bear was swift, dashing side to side like a drone in the air. Through all Pouria’s grueling practice in the Wastelands, and especially in the week before he entered the city, this move was the one he never thought he would end up using. But, when Pouria realized that Thunder had to recharge his coil tubes for a moment, the opportunity arose.

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The Soulflare Mayor positioned himself right above Thunder, who looked up while crossing his arms to block whatever attack Pouria had planned. But it wouldn’t help him. Pouria and The Bear combined forces, grasping each other and rocketing down, The Bear propelling Pouria to go even faster as he launched down two stories worth of height in a single second, slamming his boot straight through Thunder’s guard and into his face. He felt the metal of Thunder’s now-broken jaws beneath his leg, and despite the gruesomeness, it felt satisfying. Because of the pain he had caused, because of the doubts he was bashing down with that one blow. A moment of affirmation coursed through his mind as Pouria leaped backward, using the wrestler’s face as a springboard.

The Mayor’s rival didn’t fall over from the kick, still standing strong, despite the dent in his face, now broken again thanks to Pouria’s Soulflare.

“You’re lucky that this time, my face doesn’t matter.” Thunder replied, his voice still functioning thanks to his cyborg parts. There wasn’t even an ounce of anger in him. He sounded proud of Pouria, if anything. Pouria felt strange hearing that from Thunder. “I see how strong you are. I was gonna test you for this before, back in the warehouse, put your life on the line to see if you would give me a good fight, but then Blue’s little pet ruined it. But I don’t think you needed the test, did you? You were ready. You came back to this city prepared for anything, even me.”

“Where is Kaino?” Pouria asked, keeping his goal in focus.

“Kaino was never here, Pouria. He never even came to the asylum in the first place. He died a year ago, and here you are, empowered by some false belief that your friend needs you.”

Pouria paused, his mind racing to process the information, but he realized too late that Thunder’s deception opened a window. Lightning launched from his fingers and electrocuted Pouria, coursing through his entire body, stinging and burning as he fell to his knees. A fist to his face was blocked by The Bear, still protecting Pouria as his soul willed, but it too was faltering, and not fast enough to block the rapid jabs from Thunder. One after another after another after another, The Bear was not able to withstand it. He could still hear the crowd from that night cheering Thunder’s name as his body went numb.

The electricity stopped. The jabs stopped. And Pouria’s vision slowly returned. He stared at the man who was just mercilessly beating him, standing above him like a towering building, just as immovable as one. And yet, with all his strength, he didn’t use it to crush his enemy.

“Get it over with, then. I will die, and everyone will see how dedicated I am to my cause.” Pouria said, his blurry vision still laser focused on Thunder.

“Pathetically so. Obsession like that can ruin a man. I would know.”

“Then why are you here? Why are you doing all this if you know it is wrong?” Pouria asked.

“To see how this ends.” Thunder said solemnly. “I’ve already come this far.”

“It’s not too late to give that up and help me.” Pouria offered, hoping that somehow, his words could impact Thunder in any way. “You won, and I’m defeated, but you don’t have to kill me, we could just-”

“You pathetic little bitch. You always choose the easy way out.” Thunder said, his tone guttural and disappointed. “Nobody will ever respect you, not like this. It’s why I am here to put you in your place. Your Soulflare is an embarrassment to the city, and I’ve been waiting to snuff it out for a while.”

“Says the man with a false flare that he killed to get.” Pouria replied defiantly. “And either way, it’s better to try and make peace like a ‘bitch’ than to die with honor.”

Thunder shook his head. “I don’t do this for honor and glory no more, and you certainly don’t either.”

“So, why are we even kidding ourselves? We both want to kill each other, we both got fucked over, and we both want this city to be better.”

“I know you want me dead. I’ve been hurting you just as much as you did to me.”

“I don’t want to kill you. I don’t even care about our arguments and all the public discourse that shouldn’t have gotten as far as it did. I am so sorry that I ruined your life.” Pouria spoke from his heart. He knew he could beat Thunder if he kept fighting, he could kill him, but he wondered if it would solve anything? He needed allies, and killing Thunder would not only be a waste, it would also leave him unsettled with blood on his hands. Maybe he could listen to reason, just maybe he would bend.

“An apology is something I wanted long ago.” Thunder said, his tone dismissive and cold. “I poured my passion into that movie, Pouria. I wasn’t one of those dumbass celebrities who did shit for the money. I worked for it because I wanted to show people that they didn’t need some savior, that they could all fight against tyrants and dumb leaders. My parents didn’t care, but the city cared, they showed up to my matches, they loved me. Fight Loop was more of a home for me than where I grew up, and yet I return to my broken home, the East Side, because of what you said about me. This new movie, Fallen Star Two, is for you, not as an apology of my own, but a middle finger. The angel told me not to accept your apologies, and to kill you without mercy. You should be grateful that I am even giving you a fighting chance.”

“You’re letting The Angel control you. You’ve given into insanity.”

“Insane men can’t identify if they are insane, but in their mad world, all are broken, all except for them.” Thunder said. “You mistake my enlightenment for delusion. But as for you… Well… I am sorry for what happened to you.”

“I’m not insane for coming back to fix my mistakes.”

Pouria shuddered as Thunder’s boot came down upon his chest, pressing with a delicate, yet imposing amount of force. “Pouria, you have been blocking out the Exodus Angel for far too long. And now you come back to the city, despite being told not to ever return, ignoring his wishes yet again. This city deserves a bright future, and it will happen without you. It’s the Angel’s plan, and I am part of it. You’d have been wise to listen to him before getting into office, because he gives no second chances.”

“That’s not the Angel’s plan.” Pouria said. He knew that this Angel didn’t want a bright future for this city. He knew this Angel’s followers were the ones who wanted to see Soulflare Metropolis burn and fall, he knew that all too well, permanently locked in his memory. The Angel had to desire the same thing.

He refused to be the one that would destroy the world, and he knew Thunder would never want that either. He loved Soulflare, he loved his fans.

He was being tricked by God.

“The Angel wants humanity to fall.” Pouria said, trying his best to convince a disillusioned Thunder of the truth. “Whatever the Angel told you, it isn’t true.”

“The Angel cannot lie. None of the Sungazers can either!” Thunder rebutted.

Pouria remembered the Sungazer who clutched onto his collar that one, cold night, and dragged his squirming body into the trunk of his car. He still felt the choking feeling of panic gripping his throat, the marks of violence across his skin, he could even hear the sound of the car’s engine in the back of mind.

That man was a liar who’d said words of untruth Pouria would never forget. A heartless, horrible man. And in his existence, the irony of Thunder’s words were not lost at all on Pouria. They lied so viciously, so scornfully, that it didn’t surprise Pouria that they even lied to each other and their closest followers.

“The Angel isn’t your ally, Thunder. I don’t know why you follow them, as they brand themselves a savior for humanity, or at least their followers like you.” Pouria explained. “You don’t want a savior, right? You believe everyone is their own savior!”

“The Angel is the guide, and he shows us the way to peace and urges us to fight alongside them! I couldn’t ask for a better guiding star for my cause. I saw him, face to face… and he was…”

“Silence, prideful one!”

The voice cried out through the entire hall, and all the rolling cameras swiveled to the entrance in an instant. A man stood there, smoky shadows spewing from his arms, billowing up into the sky. His eyes like pitch black pearls, quivering in their sockets, gazing at the vulnerable body of Pouria, upon the floor between the rows of seats, Thunder’s boot pinning his chest down.

Pouria, despite the man’s apparent madness, knew his face in an instant. His skin was a dead, gray tone, wrapped with pale bandages across his face, as white as the beaked mask clutched in his smoking left hand. He looked unafraid, but not confident either, he looked like a ghost, a stare as blank as a statue, yet somehow so judgmental and fervent.

Out of his left hand, the smoke curled upward like a feathery ribbon, coiling around the body of a struggling man. Dr. Ibmoz couldn’t escape the man’s unleashed flare, because he was up against someone who knew flares, and how to control them, better than anyone in the world.

His name left Pouria’s lips as a shaky whisper.

“Kaino…”