It was Conner’s first night of going into the field. Donning his armor and taking stock of his equipment, Incognus ensured he had everything he’d need.
“Bullet-resistant armor with communicator, metal bat, machete, combat knives, and throwing knives. Then I got one flashbang and smoke grenade each… Why can’t I have a gun again?” Incognus asked as Death Head got suited up beside him.
Bluntly, the veteran Mask answered, “It’s the one condition your parents gave you for working with me, moron. ‘No guns until he’s eighteen.’ Remember?”
Averting his gaze to a corner of the equipment room, Incognus replied, “Yeah, but… They don’t need to know about what goes on on the field specifically.”
Snapping his gauntlet on with distinct harshness, Death Head asked, “Are you saying that you and I should lie to your parents, Maggot? Do you think that’s the kind of person a Mask should be? A deceitful sack of crap? Is that what you are, Maggot?!”
Recoiling from Death Head’s criticism, Incognus stuttered, “Huh? Wha-? I, uh… N-no, sir! I-I mean- I mean, I won’t!”
Checking the chamber of his handgun before allowing the cover to snap back in place, Death Head told his apprentice, “See to it you don’t, you piece of trash. Besides, hopefully, you won’t need a gun anytime soon. Now, are you ready to go, Maggot? We have work that needs getting done.”
Giving one last adjustment to his utility belt, Incognus replied, “Yes, sir! All ready!”
Walking over to Incognus, Death Head started pushing him toward the armory’s exit while he said, “Good. Let’s make sure Hardwire is prepared on his end, too, before we head out.”
Once the two Masks made their way to the hideout’s makeshift lounge, they found John in the kitchen corner. He was seated in a revolving chair and had a headset and blue light glasses on as his laptop finished booting up.
Tapping on John’s shoulder, somewhat startling him as he’d been focusing on his work, Death Head asked, “Hey, Hardwire. Incognus and I are about to get to work. How’s the setup going on your end?”
“Whoa…! Uh, yeah. Only real problem I’m having is how slow this setup you’ve got for me is. I’m serious that we need updated hardware if you want real-time reports on the police scanners and Penspot’s network. Until then, we’re gonna be a half hour behind with the police and a week behind on Penspot,” John explained while tapping on his computer’s screen.
Scratching his helmet as if it were his scalp, Death Head replied, “Er… Sorry about that, then. I coulda sworn that machine would work well enough.”
Giving his boss a sideways glance, Incognus thought, Oh, so you can be polite with John…? Ug. Part of the job. Part of the job. It’s all part of the job, Conner.
“Next time, just get the one I point out. Okay?” John asked while staring absentmindedly at the idling computer screen.
Folding his arms as he tilted his head slightly, Death Head answered, “Fair enough. I didn’t call you Hardwire for nothing. I’m an outdated dog, so I’ll listen to your expertise going forward.”
If it weren’t for the fact that Incognus had gotten used to this dynamic between himself, Death Head, and John, he likely would have let out an exacerbated groan. However, through his training, he’d managed to accept the different ways the Mask treated him and his friend.
Conner was the subordinate soldier meant to follow orders and not expect any kindness in his handling. Meanwhile, John was the tech support, working off the battlefield, and thusly required no firm hand for his instructions outside of dire situations.
Sighing out of what Incognus assumed was frustration with himself, Death Head stated, “Well, looks like things won’t be too easy for you tonight, Incognus… Feh, let’s just get to work, partner. We’re gonna focus on petty crimes, for now, to get you acclimated.”
“Yes, sir,” Incognus replied immediately as Death Head had trained him to.
Marching out of the warehouse-disguised hideout, Death Head and Incognus made their way onto the crime-ridden streets of Hive Town.
|X|
On this first, somewhat slow night of work, Incognus and Death Head came across a woman being mugged. Determining this was a good test, Death Head instructed Incognus to take on the criminal by himself.
With his year of training, Incognus parkoured his way down from the roof and engaged the mugger. The crook in question being a disheveled man in his late twenties.
All the mugger had was a switchblade, meaning he proved no real danger to Incognus in his armor. And despite the advantage such an age gap would normally grant to the older man, Incognus’ bodybuilding and martial arts training made the assailant’s only possible advantage moot.
After being told to back off by this new Mask, the mugger attempted to lunge at Incognus with his knife. But Incognus easily side-stepped the attack and redirected the man at the wall behind him. Before the mugger could recompose himself, he was hit with a swift elbow to the back of his head, leaving him face down in the alley with a concussion.
Once he was sure his foe was dealt with, Incognus asked the woman if she was alright.
Although initially frightened of this rookie Mask, Incognus’ close resemblance to Death Head put the woman at ease. Realizing she was safe, the woman let her savior know she wasn’t hurt, and after a heartfelt thank you, she began to take her leave.
However, when she saw her mugger groaning in pain on the ground, the woman furrowed her brow and quickly raised her foot to stomp on his head. She failed, though, nearly falling over when Incognus grabbed her leg while placing his hand against her back.
After being released once he moved her away from the mugger, the woman asked, “What the Hell are you doing?!”
Stepping between the woman and the crook, Incognus replied, “I’m sorry. I understand you’re angry, but revenge won’t help you.”
“What do you mean, ‘You understand?!’ He was going to stab me over my purse! Just let me kick his skull in!” She exclaimed.
Raising his hands defensively, Incognus replied patiently, “I understand because I’ve been where you are now because of people like him. But this guy already won’t be waking up until tomorrow. He already got what’s coming to him. Do you really want to stoop to his level when everything’s already been handled?”
Although her anger remained for a few moments as her eyes shifted between Incognus and the mugger, the woman eventually released an exacerbated sigh.
“I… I suppose you have a point… He’s going to jail, right?” The woman asked, her tone still aggravated but no longer hostile.
“Yes. He’ll be facing… Uh, assault charges,” Incognus explained while struggling to remember the legal terms for crimes Death Head taught him.
|X|
Conner wasn’t lying about the mugger going to jail.
With the existence of Masks having been a part of the U.S.A.’s culture for centuries, law enforcement had evolved to work alongside them.
By the 1940s, the Symbiosis law was passed. It stated that a Mask needed to have an established partnership with a working member of their local police force to enforce justice. With this law in place, a Mask had as much authority to make arrests as their police partner.
However, it was often difficult for a Mask to find a willing partner, as that partner would be held equally accountable for any mistakes the Mask might make.
In Incognous’ case, as Death Head’s sidekick, he was partnered with Death Head’s liaison, Detective Jericho. A large, muscular woman of obvious Arabic descent who appeared to be in her early forties.
From what little information Conner could glean about their relationship, he learned that Death Head and Jericho had worked together for years, possibly decades.
|X|
Once the woman was on her way home, Death Head came down from the roof and approached Incognus. Although his facial expressions were hidden, the older Mask’s body language made it clear to Incognous that the man was intrigued.
“Hmm… Interesting, boy. I would’ve let that woman lay into this here creep as much as she wanted. So long as she didn’t kill him, of course,” Death Head remarked as he gestured with his head at the mugger.
Picking up on the unspoken question, Incognous said, “Alright… But I don’t like making people suffer when they don’t have to. I knocked him out, and he’s going to jail. That’s enough.”
Tilting his head, Death Head replied, “Really…? Is that because of how your teachers always treated you?”
Flinching slightly, Incognous asked, “What?”
Gesturing with a hand wave to display his exasperation, Death Head said, “You told me your teachers always gave you a hard time for getting into fights, and you seem like one Hell of a sympathetic sop. Probably shaped your views on how punishment should be dealt out.”
Surprised by his boss’ insight, Incognous thought the facts over before replying, “I… I never thought about that… Huh, maybe.”
Shifting his focus to the splayed-out mugger, Death Head said, “I’ll contact Jericho and get her to send out some of her boys to pick this one up. But before that…” Walking up to Incognous, Death Head put a hand on his shoulder and told him, “I want you to understand this. If this scumbag had actually cut into that woman at all, then you definitely should have let her beat on him… But make sure she’s treated first. We don’t want Civis bleeding out if we can stop it.”
“What?! But that’s-!”
Cutting his student off, Death Head shoved a finger in his chest and said, “I don’t want to hear any argument about this, Maggot! Not everyone deserves as gentle of a hand as what you used tonight.”
Glancing at the mugger as he groaned in pain, Incognous wondered, That was gentle?
“Do you understand, Maggot?!” Death Head shouted to get Incognous’ attention back.
Jumping slightly at his boss’ tone, Incognous hesitated before answering, “I… Yes, sir.”
It was fortunate for Incognus that he still had his terrible poker face covered. The reason being that he didn’t mean a word of his answer.
|XXX|
The rest of that night and the following week were slow for the Masks’ work.
Incognus learned from Death Head during those shifts just how hard it actually was to stumble across crimes in progress and that it was primarily his pre-planned raids on areas he knew would hold criminal activity that made the news. In fact, Death Head even explained it was something of a miracle he had arrived on the scene to save Conner from Frank when he did.
Realizing what the slow drudgery of the realities of a Mask’s duties entailed, Incognus was somewhat disheartened. Not enough to make him even consider giving up, but some of the wind was certainly taken out of his sails.
Fortunately, by the next week, Hardwire helped speed up the process once Death Head acquired the computer set-up he requested. With Hardwire’s improved workstation, Death Head and Incognus had ready access to police scanners and the files of some of the higher-ups working for Sally Penspot.
Over the next few months, the two would intervene in countless muggings, robberies, street brawls, a couple of kidnappings, and even once a hostage situation. The latter ordeal Death Head defused by sneaking through the building the gunman was held up in and blasting his firearm apart with a well-placed shot from his own hand cannon.
During the muggings, Death Head happily allowed anyone who wanted payback on their attackers to get it. While following his boss’ instructions, Incognous took the time to observe the victim’s reactions to beating their assailants.
Some people seemed genuinely happy about getting easy revenge, but still, more were angry. Admittedly, nearly everyone was mad at their attackers, but only a few were relieved after getting in a good hit or two. However, most people couldn’t get their anger out, no matter how much they beat the assailants, having to be stopped by the Mask duo from going too far.
The next most common reactions were people simply running away as soon as Death Head arrived on the scene or declining the chance to get payback, instead choosing to go home.
But the ones that stirred Conner’s emotions most were those who decided to get revenge, only for expressions of disgust, confusion, and revulsion to form after the first punch. At once, Conner felt a specific kind of sympathy and discomfort for these people. He understood how they must have regretted their actions immediately, realizing their revenge wasn’t worth it to their conscience.
After witnessing how few victims truly enjoyed the revenge they were given, Incongnus came to a conclusion.
|X|
Returning to base after a long night of work, Incognus and Death Head were changing out of uniform when the younger Mask hesitantly said, “Boss, I think we need to talk.”
Putting his helmet back in its case, Death Head remarked, “What…? Well, that’s new for you. What’s going on?”
Flint always eased up on the drill instructor attitude whenever they returned from work. He wanted Conner to be able to relax once the night was over and didn’t think continuing to be hard on him would help with that.
Taking a deep breath, Conner also set his helmet in its case, turned to Flint, and defiantly stated, “I think you’re wrong, sir!”
Raising his brow, Flint replied, his voice mockingly intrigued, “Reeealy now? And what am I so wrong about?”
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Conner explained, “You’re wrong about letting Civis beat on criminals.”
Folding his arms, Flint asked, “Seriously? We’ve been over this. The criminals don’t deserve-.”
Cutting his boss off, taking him by complete surprise, Conner yelled, “It’s not just that!” Flint then unfolded his arms, completely shocked as Conner went on, “It’s not just that I think the beatings are wrong, but it doesn’t help the Civis either. There’s some people who look like they like it, but almost everyone else either just gets madder or feels bad about it. It… It’s wrong on all fronts!”
His aged lips turning into a frown, Flint tilted his head and said with contemplation, “I… Hrm… That… That’s… That’s solid reasoning, honestly.”
That response was the last thing Conner would have expected, prompting, “Se- Seriously?”
Nodding lazily, Flint answered, “Well… Yeah, yeah. Any person who’s made it through what I have wouldn’t have done so if they weren’t willing to admit when they were wrong and adapt. I gotta say, though… You’re the first partner I’ve had that’s thought this way.”
“You mean… being merciful?” Conner inquired.
Sighing, Flint explained, “Yeah. Mercy wasn’t something that was pressed too hard on me in the military, and the kind of people who set out to become Masks are usually the types looking for serious revenge. You’re my first partner who isn’t just out to knock heads together. So, I think we’ll try things your way for a bit. See how things go.”
His eyes brightening, Conner exclaimed, “Seriously…?! Thank you, boss!”
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get mushy about this, Maggot. It’s just a test run. Got it…?” He asked as his authoritative tone returned.
Smirking nervously, Conner straightened his posture and replied, “Sir, yes, sir.”
Continuing to take his armor off, Flint removed his gauntlets and said, “Good. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Let’s go get something to eat.”
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
|XXX|
Throughout the next dozen or so months, Death Head and Incognus went about their business the way the young Mask wanted. And while Death Head still felt the urge to let the victims get payback, he had to admit it resulted in fewer situations where he needed to pull a person off the assaulters.
Their status quo would be torn down over the next few days, though, as a major, life-changing event would come crashing into the Masks’ lives.
|XXX|
Hardwire managed to pick up a lead through his hacking of Penspot’s files that Tony Goldmen, one of her lieutenants, had organized a hit with the help of Viper, Penspot’s best assassin. Tony’s target was Brandy Melody, the deputy mayor, at her next public rally.
Brandy had been working toward getting stricter laws on police training for Miracle City, garnering massive public support in the process. The end goal being an attempt to reduce corruption, something Penspot obviously wouldn’t be a fan of.
|X|
Tapping a pen on his desk, John leaned toward his computer screen and asked, “So, what’s the plan here? Should we contact your police partner and get the deputy mayor a police escort until the law is passed?”
Resting a hand on John’s chair, Flint replied, “It’s worth telling my partner, but Brandy already has personal security that’s probably more trustworthy than the police. If my partner tries to organize anything official, it’s almost certain that the Warts would find out. My partner has some people who can be trusted, but there’s way more who absolutely can’t be.”
“So… No official police protection, but your partner can at least organize a few trusted cops to watch over her in secret while we go after Viper,” Conner commented.
“Exactly,” Flint said.
Hearing a beep from his computer, John remarked, “Hold on a sec. My programs just got access to the next email… Ssshhit!”
“What’s wrong?” Conner asked as he took a step toward his friend.
Leaning back in his chair as he moved his blue-light glasses and rubbed his eyes, John groaned, “Oh, for God’s sake…! If the assassination plan doesn’t work, they have a backup plan to kidnap Brandy’s kids that’s going down simultaneously!”
“Oh… Fuck,” Conner blurted.
Bringing a hand to his head, Flint combed his fingers through his graying hair and said, “Alight… Gotta divide our forces up a bit, then. Incognus and I will go after Viper while my partner’s forces go to guard the Deputy Mayor’s house… I should probably go call my partner and confirm the plan with them now that I think about it.”
Turning his chair to face his Mask partners, John asked, “Wait. I get that most of the police can’t be trusted, but I have another idea. I could reveal these documents to the public, ruin Goldmen’s image, and ruin the attempts before they even happen. And you guys wouldn’t even have to risk your lives.”
“That… That is a good idea, actually. Boss, whatta you think?”
Folding his arms at Conner’s question, Flint thought momentarily before answering, “Hrm… Sorry, but I don’t think that’ll work.”
“Huh? Why not?”
“If we had more time, that’d definitely be worth trying, Hardwire. But we only have until tomorrow afternoon. The documents wouldn’t have enough time to circulate in the public to make an impact. It wouldn’t hurt for you to do that now since we could use it to bring down one of Penspot’s lieutenants later, but it won’t have any effect by tomorrow,” Flint explained.
“Oh… Dammit!” John spat out.
Straightening his posture, his old spine audibly cracking, Flint said, “Don’t beat yourself up, Hardwire. It’s a good plan. Just not enough time to make use of it on our end. Now, Incognus, go gear up while I call my partner. Once we’re ready, we’ll scout out the areas around city hall and see where the best sniper nests would be. Let’s see if we can’t find Viper ahead of time.”
“Sir, yes, sir!” Incognus replied before running to get his costume.
|XXX|
The next day, Brandy Melody was standing on her podium, speaking to the crowd of thousands while her security surrounded her.
“For too long has our city been plagued by corruption and ineptitude! The good people of Miracle City suffering under the leadership of those who only wish to line their own pockets while we suffer in destitution! But Mayor Dennis and I say, ‘no more!’ With Act 62 put in place, we’ll be able to take the first step toward the miracle of pulling Miracle City back into the light!”
|XXX|
As the crowd erupted in cheers of support for the deputy mayor, a man in a heavy overcoat entered a spacious room in a condemned building a mile away.
After glancing out of the room to make sure he hadn’t been followed, the man dropped his coat and revealed a red snakeskin suit underneath.
Despite its size, the rickety room only had a stained bed, a non-functional sink and toilet, and a locked chest. Approaching the chest, the floor beneath him squeaking with every step, Viper took out a key from his suit pocket.
After checking the chest for any signs of tampering, Viper unlocked it and began removing its contents. Laying them out on the floor, Viper took out the individual pieces of a high-caliber sniper rifle and got to work assembling it.
With his weapon built, Viper put on his noise-canceling headphones and pointed the tip of his gun’s barrel out the window, his crosshairs lining up directly on Brandy Melody. As he loaded the single round he brought with him, Viper began an internal monologue.
I should thank Mayor Dennis for being too incompetent. If he hadn’t been whipped by Brandy into a figurehead and stayed loyal to Mrs. Penspot, I wouldn’t be getting my hundredth kill.
His finger falling onto the trigger of his gun, Viper concluded his thought, Congratulations on being part of such a momentous milestone, Melody. Now rot in Hell, bitch!
Pulling the trigger, Viper smiled, one of the smiles he only gave when completing a job, expecting to see Brandy’s head blown to pieces through his scope. However, his mouth reverted to a frown when he realized his trigger hadn’t worked.
The trigger had no resistance, as if it weren’t even connected to the rest of the gun’s mechanisms.
Ripping his headphones off and throwing them across the room, Viper looked at his firearm with venomous eyes and asked, “The Hell is happening?!”
On cue, bursting through the ceiling, came Death Head and Incognus. Death Head with his Desert Eagle drawn on Viper’s head while Incognus had a machete in one hand and a metal bat in the other.
“Sorry for sabotaging your toy, Viper. Now, you’re coming with us. Whether it's to jail or the morgue is up to you,” Death Head said as he rested his finger on his hand canon’s trigger.
His pale face contorting into an awful scowl, Viper didn’t hesitate as he yelled at the top of his lungs, “Powerhouse!”
Just as fast as the Masks had made their entrance, Powerhouse came bursting, shoulder first, through one of the fragile walls of the room. Even now, Powerhouse wore the full body armor Death Head had made for him.
Taking advantage of the brief confusion, Viper threw his faulty rifle at Death Head.
Reacting a split-second too slowly, Death Head fired his gun, blowing apart the rifle but missing his actual target. This gave Viper the time he needed to close the distance between himself and the Mask veteran.
With a knife-hand strike to Death Head’s wrist, the gun went flying from his hand and skittered across the floor as the Mask and the assassin began exchanging blows.
|X|
Simultaneously, Powerhouse went charging at Incognus, tackling him into the sink. Fortunately, the young Mask’s armor protected him from most of the damage. However, most didn’t mean all.
With a pained grunt as his ribs bruised against the shattering sink, Incognus tried to use brute strength to push back against Powerhouse. Unfortunately, the man lived up to the hype Death Head warned of and was far too strong, even for Incognus’ trained muscles to throw off.
Grabbing Incognus by his waistline, Powerhouse picked him up and threw him at the floor. In combination with Powerhouse’s strength and the building’s crumbling status, Incognus went straight through that floor to the next.
With the wind knocked out of him, Incognus tried to pick himself up, only for Powerhouse to jump through the hole he’d made with his body, landing directly on Incognus. This blow sent both of them down yet another level of the building, Incognus acting as Powerhouse’s cushion.
Standing above Incognus, Powerhouse asked with a deep voice, “So, you’re the runt who’s supposed to be my replacement? I guess that idiot upstairs couldn’t find anyone halfway decent. Or maybe this city just ran out of men of my caliber.”
By now, if it weren’t for his armor, Conner would likely have been seriously wounded or possibly even dead. Despite his pain, Incognus refused to lie down and take the beating. Although he had lost his primary weapons on the first floor, he still had ways of fighting back.
Spinning on the ground, Incognus hit Powerhouse in the back of his knee with an elbow, knocking the larger man off balance as he rolled out from underneath him.
Getting back to his feet just as fast as Incognus had, Powerhouse saw the smaller man pull out a combat knife.
“Oh, Hell yes, let’s go! I wanna see just how well Death Head trained you and prove I’m the best!” Powerhouse shouted, raising his spiked knuckles up.
“Honestly, you probably are better than me. But the problem is Death Head taught me to fight to win,” Incognus replied monotonely.
Before Powerhouse could ask what the new Mask meant, Incognus pulled out his flashbang, ripped out the safety pin with the tip of his knife, threw it to the ground, and closed his eyes as the grenade went off.
Although Conner’s ears were still ringing from the flashbang’s disorienting blast, he at least had the advantage of functioning sight over Powerhouse now. At least for a few seconds.
Rushing the traitor, Incognus put all his weight into a drop kick aimed at Powerhouse’s chest. And although Powerhouse still had bullet-resistant armor, it was only half as good as the upgraded gear Hardwire designed. As such, once Incognus’ blow landed, Powerhouse felt a couple ribs crack as he crashed onto his back, his arms splayed out.
Before Powerhouse could recompose himself at all, Incognus brought down his combat knife into the palm of the traitor’s left hand. As a blade built to puncture Kevlar, it wasn’t too hard for Incognus to drive the knife through both Powerhouse’s hand and the wooden floor beneath it.
As Powerhouse yelled in agony and blood pooled from his hand on the floor, Incognus pinned Powerhouse down fully with a knee against his chest. With his opponent restrained, Incognus unleashed as many knuckleduster-reinforced punches as he could in the span of three seconds.
At the end of those seconds, Powerhouse’s eyesight came back to him, although heavily blurred from Incognus’ thrashing. After another couple of seconds of getting his bearings, Powerhouse swung his free fist around, clocking Incognus in the side of his head with a swinging blow.
Nearly concussed by a mighty punch that would have killed him unarmored, Incognus was sent rolling across the floor. While the young Mask struggled to stand, Powerhouse pulled the knife from his hand in a single motion and jumped to his feet with shocking agility for his size.
Blood dripping from his palm like a leaky faucet, Powerhouse brandished the knife in his injured hand while readying his free one into a fist.
Glancing at Powerhouse’s injury, Incognus was mortified as he exclaimed, “Why the Hell’d you pull that out?! You could bleed out now, you idiot!”
For a half second, Powerhouse seemed floored by Incognus’ genuine concern and looked at his bleeding palm before shaking his head and exclaiming, “Whatever! Just shut up and fight, smartass!”
Glaring from behind his helmet, Incognus raised his fists and responded, “Oh… I get it now. You were just too much of a brain-dead moron to keep up with Death Head. That’s why you quit.”
Predictably, Powerhouse erupted with rage at Incognus’ words, going for a swift stab at his torso.
Cautious of the knife that could puncture his armor, Incognus sidestepped the thrust while placing his palms on Powerhouse’s elbow and wrist. In this position, Incognus managed to throw his opponent through the door of the room they were in and into the cramped hall on the other side.
Seeing where he’d sent the traitor, Incognus assumed Powerhouse would be too discombobulated and cramped to fight back effectively. With utmost confidence, Incognus took a running leap to land a flying punch in Powerhouse’s face, aiming to knock the burly brute out.
The teenage Mask was completely taken off guard, though, when the massive man launched a roundhouse kick that smashed through the hallway walls and the room’s doorframe. The blow was as effective as it was powerful, connecting with the side of Incognus’ head. Incognus' cranium then broke through a wall as the rest of his body laid limp in the room. If it hadn’t been for the brutality leading up to then, it would have almost looked like something out of a Loony Toon.
As his ears rang and his vision blurred inside the rat-infested wall, all Conner could think to himself was, He… He’s a fucking monster.
Stuck in the building’s infrastructure, Conner felt a pair of large hands grab his left calf. Instantly, Incognus was pulled from the wall and thrown across the room into a mattress-less bedframe.
With the old bedframe breaking under his tossed body, Incognus struggled to get back up. However, his left leg failed to function for him. Pain shooting through his limb, Incognus realized, aside from all the hairline fractures he’d gotten, his leg had just been dislocated.
As Incognus winced in agony, Powerhouse rushed him, grabbed him by his neck, and slammed him into the wall that prevented the room’s occupancy from falling to the streets below.
With the rotting wall cracking behind him, Incognus heard Powerhouse ask mockingly, “Who’s stupid now, ya loser runt!?”
Laughing through the iron taste of blood in his mouth, Incognus replied, “Considering we fucked up your plans so easily, I’d say that still makes you the idiot and the loser here.”
“Shut up!” Powerhouse roared as he plunged Incognus’ knife into his torso.
Spitting up blood, Incognus’ fight-or-flight instincts kicked in, and he began slamming Powerhouse in the face with elbow blows with as much strength as he could muster. But this counterattack was brought to an abrupt end as the knife plunged into Incognus twice more, puncturing a lung and his stomach.
By now, Incognus was spewing enough blood for it to leak through the air holes in his helmet as Powerhouse let out exasperated but satisfied breaths.
Tossing the half-dead Incognus to the floor, Powerhouse copied the younger man’s technique and pinned him down with a knee to his chest.
Raising the knife above his head, Powerhouse dug the fingers of his free hand under Incognus’ helmet, stating, “I’ll give ya credit. You were pretty tough for your size. Let’s get a look at ya before this is done.”
Undoing the latches that held it in place, Powerhouse pulled the helmet off, grinning madly under his own headgear. But when Powerhouse saw the fading eyes of the bleeding, youthful face staring back at him, his gruesomely jovial demeanor faded immediately.
Freezing up, Powerhouse dropped Incognus’ helmet while keeping the knife raised, muttering in disbelief, “I… You… You’re just a kid…?”
At that moment, Powerhouse tried to comprehend what he was looking at. But simultaneously, Death Head came jumping down through the holes his former protege made in the floors. The knuckle dusters of his armor were blood-splattered, and he was wielding Incognus’ machete.
Too stunned to respond, Powerhouse stayed frozen as Death Head shouted, “Get off of him!”
Before Powerhouse knew what was what, he felt a sharp, burning pain at his left wrist as Death Head cleaved his knife-wielding hand off with the machete.
As Powerhouse let out a deafening wail of agony, his stump spurting crimson, Death Head roundhouse kicked him in his head, knocking him on his side.
While Powerhouse went into shock, Death Head threw down his smoke grenade, took Incognus into his arms, and made for the door.
“Hardwire! Contact the Doctor and tell them to get to the hideout yesterday! We’ve got a man down! I repeat, man down!” Death Head shouted into his earpiece while moving as fast as Incognus’ wounds would allow.
|XXX|
Conner was laid out on the emergency medical bed in Death Head’s factory hideout. His wounds were being operated on by Dr. Jason, the most trusted physician of Death Head, and several other Masks.
As he sutured the stab wounds shut, the Doctor said, “This would be a Hell of a lot easier if his blood wasn’t O Positive. I didn’t have any of the matching blood types in storage. No transfusions available.”
“But you can still save him, right?!” John asked as he struggled to maintain the required distance Dr. Jason needed to operate.
“Of course he can, Hardwire. Just stay quiet and let the man-.”
Before Flint could finish speaking, Dr. Jason interrupted, “Listen, both of you. Aside from the stab to a lung, his stomach was punctured twice. He has stomach acid on all his organs. Even if I manage to pull off a miracle and save him, he’ll never be the same again. And that’s to say nothing of the massive amount of blood loss.”
His face contorting into horror, Flint asked, “The Hell are you saying?”
Removing a blood-stained rag from Conner’s guts, Dr. Jason bluntly said, “Just what it sounds like. I can clean off his organs and stitch him shut, but I’d estimate the chances of him surviving are less than ten percent.”
Mortified, all John could get out was, “What?! But… But… No!”
Barely keeping his rage bottled, Flint took a couple of steps forward before controlling himself and growling, “Don’t give me that shit, man! This kid… Do whatever it takes, but he has to live!”
With a sigh, Dr. Jason pulled out the last cloth and finished the final suture as he reiterated, “You two aren’t listening to me. I just did everything within my power. All we can do now is wait and pray for a miracle… But I recommend you start working on what you’re going to tell his family.”
With the reality sinking in, the weight of Flint’s decisions came crashing down on him like a brutal guillotine.
He… Conner’s… He’s… No! What have I done!? I brought a kid into the Mask’s world, and now he’s being taken out of it by my biggest failure…! Powerhouse… If it wasn’t for you… If it wasn’t for my failure, Conner would still be… I’ll kill him! I’ll kill him! Parker Lewis is dead! He’s a dead man walking!
While Flint’s thoughts swirled in an endless whirlwind of rage, John followed his instincts and did as Dr. Jason suggested. Bringing his hands together, the young man began praying for divine intervention.
|XXX|
Within the darkness of his beaten and bloodied mind, Conner’s subconscious struggled to understand what was happening.
Walking through the pitch-black void, his footsteps echoing hauntingly, Conner postulated, “What is this place…? It’s so cold. I’m so scared… Mom, Dad, Leslie…? John, Lana, Will, Carl… Flint? Is anyone here…? Please! Help me…! Ack!”
Feeling at his stomach as a sharp ache came to him, Conner put his hand to his torso. But once he did, his palm felt wet as the smell of iron entered the air.
Suddenly, a spotlight appeared in the distance, a standing mirror right in the middle of it.
Approaching the only visible thing around him, Conner saw himself in the mirror and was mortified to see his blood-stained body.
Bringing his crimson-covered hands to the mirror’s frame, Conner shouted at it, “That… That’s right! Powerhouse stabbed me…! Am… Am I… Am I dead…?! No! I can’t be! What about my family, my friends?! I can’t leave them! And there’s still so much I wanna do! I… Huh?”
As he all but hyperventilated in terror, Conner saw the image in the mirror change from his wounded body to a shifting array of smiling faces. It took Conner a moment to recognize who any of these people were, but soon enough, he remembered them clearly.
“Hey. Are these…? Yeah. These are all the people that Death Head and I saved… Wow. I never realized just how many there were. They-.”
Before Conner could finish that thought, the final person appeared in the mirror. The Deputy Mayor. She was leading a small force of honorable and kind police, the kind of people police should be, improving the lives of everyone in the city in various ways.
Feeling more blood trickle from his body as he watched this dreamy miracle, Conner couldn’t help but smile and remark, “I guess… I guess that’s worth something, right?” As he came to his conclusion, the reflectivity of the mirror vanished, leaving just a blue void.
Tears rolling down his face; Conner winced when an even brighter light appeared in the distance, some ways away from the mirror.
Turning to face the light despite how it blinded him, Conner said, “Is that…? Heh… Hehehe! Well, kill me again. I guess you were right about what comes after, John… I suppose I’ll see you guys further down the line. I just hope it isn’t too soon.”
However, just as Conner got ready to walk toward the light, he was somewhat taken off guard when the light started rushing at him instead.
“What the-?!”
Before Conner knew what was happening, the light completely enveloped him as he suddenly felt more alive than ever before.
|XXX|
Looking at Conner as the heart rate monitor connected to him dropped to zero, Flint clenched his fists and teeth as John fell to his knees. Although clearly handling the immediate grief differently, both of their reactions had one thing in common; the salty tears forming in their eyes.
However, just as Dr. Jason let out a depressed sigh and went to cover Conner with a blanket, the doctor and the blanket were blown back by a sudden burst of white flames engulfing the boy’s body. The shockwave also knocked John and Flint off balance as the heat evaporated their tears, with the two quickly trying to get back to their feet to see what was happening. Once they were up, neither could truly believe what they saw.
Standing half a foot taller than he had before, with muscles as large as Powerhouse’s, Conner had gotten off the table. His long black hair had turned as white as snow, and the color of his eyes was obscured by a white glow. Notably, all his wounds were gone. Even the stitching Jason sewed into Conner had been forced out of him.
Taking a couple of dizzy steps with his tattered clothing hanging onto him, Conner spoke, his voice sounding as if he were breathing fire as he talked, “John, Flint…? What’s happening? Did you guys do something to me?”