Brandon always thought that being thrown out was just a phrase. Two large guards tossed him bodily from the Facility and he stumbled and fell down half a dozen steps before landing face first onto the cobbled street. Brandon didn’t believe in karma, or even know if modified clones would inherit it from past selves, but he knew if he was not careful things were going to go from bad to worse.
He turned his head to take a look at The Facility. Deep red wooden doors were inlaid into a brick building with no visible windows. The sun beat down on him as he squinted and covered his eyes.
Ahead of him was a wide road split with a grass median. Street vendors with stands filled every available space. Brandon was reminded of local street markets back home selling anything imaginable. A crowd milled around, everyone trying to be somewhere else.
Short two-story buildings lined the streets all around him. A mix of what appeared to be slapped together constructions and more permanent structures. Brandon felt as if someone was trying to cram as much as possible in as small area as imaginable.
Brandon could see a hint of people staring and walking towards him. He tried to think of a way he could mix into the dispersing crowd. He wanted to get his bearings and figure out a plan. Unease was working its way into the back of his head telling him it was a good time to leave, anyplace was better than here.
On either side of Brandon, the road opened out and two groups of people worked their way towards him.
“There he is,” yelled someone to his right. The group was dressed haphazard and in mismatched clothes. A few wore pristine suits all in black, but the rest were all wearing sets of what Brandon could only guess were a hodgepodge of different uniforms. Every last one of them wore the same tricolor armband of blue, green, and black.
“I can’t tell you how bad we wanted to see you,” said a man.
----------------------------------------
Followers of P.A.T: Lvl 6 – 11
Class: Multiple Class Mob
Description: Not directly connected to the Planetary Assimilation Team, the followers of P.A.T. and Boss Chet take it upon themselves to uphold what rules they think P.A.T. would enforce.
----------------------------------------
Brandon was distracted by the new information that popped up in front of him. Most of his prompts so far had little to no real useful information. But this one was a first to have something he did not already know or was overly obvious. He was momentarily distracted before being dragged back to the moment by Chet.
“It is a little poetic that we can take care of you here,” said Chet. “Right where you killed all of our friends.”
“You must have me confused with someone else,” said Brandon trying to think, talk, and read his popup all at the same time. “While I was in there, I did hear that they had some bastard Unabomber come back recently. They threw me out when I punched him in the face, but I can’t imagine he will be in there much longer.”
“You can’t trick us Bran,” yelled another voice from the opposite street.
Brandon slowly turned around and saw yet another group coming from the opposite direction. Chains and bats, 2x4s and metal bars, Brandon saw every type of improvised weapon. Unlike the other group they were packed in and blocked the way entirely. Where at the followers of P.A.T. had a mishmash of put together clothes, this group was shambled and torn, something that looked more like rags than clothes. Brandon could smell the sour stench that came from them a dozen yards away.
----------------------------------------
Bill and Unruly Ruffians: Lvl 3-8
Class: Multiple Class Mob
Description: Bill has been around here longer than most. He has stayed behind to gather what little power he can in fear that he will be just another bruiser if he moves on. They might be weaker, but there sure are a lot of them.
----------------------------------------
“There is no use trying to talk your way out of this,” said Bill. “It was a surprise when we heard you came back. To be honest I was thinking that they finally took you out of the rotation and stopped at two iterations for you.”
Brandon fought the urge to take a step back toward the facility. He checked the distance to the market stalls and wondered if he run to them before he got caught. A loud bang sounded from near Bill, and a small amount of dust rose next to Brandon’s feet. He jumped back a step and watched as the woman next to Bill holstered her gun.
----------------------------------------
First Combat Initiated. Full abilities not yet allocated. Currently available abilities.
* Offensive – Static Shock – Melee
* Defensive –- Stone Skin – Blocking
----------------------------------------
Brandon mentally waved away the window.
“Hold,” yelled Chet as he held out his arm. Some of the followers of P.A.T. still strode forward; varying hazes and colors surrounded different body parts on each person. “I told you he’s ours Bill.”
“We have The Facility and P.A.T. on our side,” said a short blonde-haired man behind Chet.
“Are we going to have to have this conversation again?” Yelled Bill. “I told you it does not matter that Sam told you, or that you got here first. We are here for him and no one is going to get in our way.”
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Sweat dripped down into Brandon’s eyes. He inched his way towards the market trying not to draw attention to himself. If he could get away while the two groups were arguing over who would get to kill him, that would be fine with Brandon.
Murmurs from each group began to rise. “Shut it” Chet and Bill said in unison. The crowds only quieted slightly.
Brandon was not sure how long the crowds had been waiting for him out here. A few people from Bill’s group tried to run forward, only to be stopped by the person next to them. Brandon was just about to pick up a rock and throw it at Chet hoping the two groups would not first target him as a ball of fire the size of a basketball soared into the sky from behind Bill.
----------------------------------------
Ability: Fireball
Damage: Moderate
Description: A large fireball. Well… They are in fireball formation
----------------------------------------
Brandon could only stand and watch as the flames flew through the sky. The two groups ran towards Brandon, he thought his ears would start to bleed form the roar that echoed around him. A rippling dome appeared over Chet’s group and shattered as the ball of fire smashed into it.
He ran towards the lesser group near the market as the two mobs crashed together behind him. The smell of iron and ozone hit Brandon’s nose. Dust flew into the air around him as more bullets ricocheted around him. He had to dodge back and forth as lances of ice and rock flew in every direction.
Brandon dove into the first stall he reached. He grabbed the first things his hands touched and attempted to shove everything in his pockets to grab more. He was determined to have at least something to throw at the next person that approached him. Halfway to his pocket the items in his hand disappeared and a popup appeared in front of him that he brushed away without thinking. He tried to grab a few more items as he ran, but it was not until he stopped trying to store them in his pockets that they stopped vanishing.
A bearded man with a half-moon axe and a bald head smashed through a stall ahead of Brandon and stared him down.
“Well, what have we here. The day is starting to look up for Ole Crazy Beard.”
‘I hope this works,’ Brandon thought to himself. Without stopping he dove and reached out for the man, trying to remember what the ability he saw only a few moments ago was called.
----------------------------------------
Ability: Static Shock
Damage: Low
Description: Using the power of electricity, you can touch and shock an opponent.
----------------------------------------
Brandon collided with the man and grabbed him by the legs. Static fizzled on the bottom half of Crazy Beard and smoke began to rise from his feet. Brandon felt something leach from his chest and through his arm as he zapped Crazy Beard.
“Gah that stung a little bit,” said Crazy Beard as he stood over Brandon. “I might have to get a new set of boots now.”
Brandon, determined to do something activated Static Shock again. He felt the same draining from his chest and to Brandon’s surprise he heard the man scream. He looked up to see a cloaked figure standing behind Crazy Beard with one hand holding the man’s head, flames engulfed the top half of Crazy Beard. Crazy Beard fell to the ground smoking.
Cloth covered the new person and were tied tight around them, nothing showed of the person beneath. The cloaked figure held out a hand to help Brandon up. As soon as Brandon got a notification.
----------------------------------------
Bert the Elementalist would like to form a group.
----------------------------------------
Brandon knew he didn’t have a choice, so far Bert was the first person that didn’t want to actively kill him on sight. He decided he would join. Instantly an invisible aura set in around the pair. Brandon had a sense that he knew where Bert was, if Brandon closed his eyes, he knew that he could point in the general direction of his group member.
“What are you waiting for?” Said Bert. “It’s time to get out of here.”
Bert ran off deeper into the market leaving Brandon behind. Brandon rushed after him as he dodged stalls and the occasional debris. He decided that if Bert could lead him out and give him enough time to figure out exactly what was going on that would be good enough for now.
Chaotic sounds of stone, fire, metal, and gunshots echoed behind Brandon. He put on an extra bit of speed to catch up and warn Bert.
“I was hoping we could slip away without being seen,” said Bert from under his cloak. “We might still have a chance to lose them. What can you do other than that weak zapping palm?”
“The only other thing I can do right now is something called ‘Stone Skin’,” said Brandon. “How do I even know your name B..”
“Don’t say my name,” Bert hissed as he tossed a fireball behind his shoulder. “I can explain more when we get out of here. If anything comes at you use that Stone Skin and just keep following me.”
“How do I do that?”
“How did you use the last attack?”
“I just did I guess.”
Bert stopped at the next intersection and Brandon slowed. Bert slammed one palm down on the ground and a sheet of ice flew out behind them just as a pursuing group approached. Half of them lost their footing and slammed into a stone wall as Bert rounded a corner without missing a beat.
“What are you doing, RUN,” Bert yelled continuing past Brandon. “That ice won’t last long.”
Three thugs came out of an alley way ahead of them waiting for the pair to approach.
“Take the one on the right I have the other two” said Bert as each hand burst into flames.
The thug was built similar to Brandon but about 3 inches shorter. He raised what Brandon thought was a revolver and pointed it at him. In his first day of what apparently was his new life he had already shocked someone with his own hands, so he decided to dive all the way in and conjured his Stone Skin as he crossed arms in front of his face.
Brandon could feel the skin in his hands and forearms tighten and harden as if he was growing bone on the outside of his skin. The pull of magic from his chest was faster than it had been with his Static Shock but he did not have to hold on long.
Brandon felt the first few bullets chip at his skin. The next shot grazed his shoulder with a sharp sting. Without slowing Brandon ran into the man, pushing him over without stopping.
“Quick turn here into this alley,” yelled Bert from ahead of him.
Brandon had to turn sideways to slide between the two sandstone buildings until the alley opened into an empty courtyard.
“We just need one that is unlocked,” said Bert. “If we have any luck, yes!” Bert exclaimed after trying a second door. Out of nowhere he pulled a sheet of paper, dark etchings covered its surface and Brandon was not sure if there was more inked or un-inked space on the page. Bert slapped it on the closed door but left his hand in place. “I’m just about tapped out of mana, so you will have to help me.”
“What do I do?”
“Touch the page and push some of your magic into it.”
Hesitantly Brandon stood next to the cloaked figure and placed his left hand on the paper hanging from the door.
“Open,” said Bert.
Brandon felt a now familiar drain flow out of his chest and into the paper. The lines on the paper smoldered but did not singe the page. Crisp black lines replaced the design on the sheet and they both dropped their hands.
“Finally,” said Bert as he opened the door. A narrow stairwell leading down stood before them, bright lights illuminating the steps.
“In you go,” said Bert.
Brandon entered the stairwell and the door closed behind them as the two descended.