The Wizard scoffed as he picked the boy up off the ground. “She can be such a whore sometimes,” Juno said, with the articulation of a high schooler. To this, Oliver said nothing. Instead he looked up at his comrade, the man who stood at seven foot infinity, Jackson Pride. The titan looked a bit … perplexed. Former detective Oliver Nash could relate. After hearing all the hype about Rosemary, it was hard to believe that she would come at them so hard, and so quickly.
“That wasn’t Rosemary,” Pride stated, bluntly.
Juno protested. “But that’s impossible. We all saw her and she moved just like…”
“Her, I know. But that’s what she wanted you to see. It was an illusion, to distract us,” he tried to explain. “Rosemary…” he paused, obviously troubled by this, “…can turn your minds to clay and mold them as she sees fit.” Jackson turned to the others, becoming quite serious, “Keep your wits about you and don’t believe everything you see.”
“In other words, any of you could be her…” retorted the Wizard; to be bitter, but also to break the eerie silence. Surrounded by jets and tanks, Oliver should have felt quite at home. But something about this place gave him the creeps. Cameras aside, it felt like someone else was watching him… prodding him like some kind of lab rat. And the walls, it was like they could breathe, alive with some of presence.
And none of this sat well with the old man.
---
Suddenly, they heard a noise. It was the tapping of boots against concrete, but from multiple sources. So many that the footsteps made a militant chorus … which was not exactly the best of news for the party of three. Juno looked to Wizard, and he to Jackson. There was an unspoken consensus on the audible threat being the ‘bad guys’ and so, they fanned out like soldiers in guerilla warfare.
Juno took cover behind a tank and an orb of ki materialized in his hand. ‘You won’t play me a fool again, Rosemary. Its time to put an end to your games,’ he thought to himself, a psychological preparation for whatever was to come.
About thirty feet away from him, Oliver hammered down on the wing of a jet. His forearm connected with a clank as he tore the feathers from the mechanical bird. Jackson, who had stopped reinforcing the doors for a moment, looked back and tossed him the facial equivalent of ‘wtf?’
“A shield,” he explained, setting up the massive barrier in front of him. It was five feet of metal and rather unwieldy, but it would do the job.
---
The enemy’s entrance was quite literally a booming one, as rocket-propelled explosives rained in on the hangar, obliterating Jackson’s reinforcements on the door, as well as the door itself. There, at the forefront of a battalion of maybe fourty guards, was Ares—the soldier of fortune—unarmed compared to the rest, but only because he preferred his fists. He smirked and called into the hangar, tauntingly, “come out, come out, wherever you are!”
Silence hung about the hangar, as the smoke still guarded the sight of any inhabitants. The mercenary cursed. He was Hell-bent on finding his adversary but he couldn’t see a damned thing. “Nash!” he roared, “Come out and fight, you coward!”
There was a pause before a giant heap of metal and wires penetrated the smoke, headed toward the guards. And then a loud bellow—“Chouginga!”—which was followed by a flaming skull of raw energy that too penetrated the smoke. Moving faster than the first, it collided with the junky airborne pile, triggering a massive explosion that consumed upward of ten soldiers.
Oliver, in the distance, smirked at the larger war veteran. “Using the plane’s fuselage as an explosive? Not bad…” Jackson commented, before they repeated the action and took out another four guards while the rest took cover.
However, the numbers hadn’t died down. Instead, they … increased? Another twenty soldiers replaced those fallen, coming from the sidelines. It seemed as though Kai Demolic had raised his own personal army. When the smoke cleared, they could see just how outnumbered they were – and how screwed they might have been.
Though their tactics had been effective, they wouldn’t hold off long against this army if they didn’t come up with something. And then there was…
“OLD MAN!” Ares yelled; face animating his eagerness to jump into combat. He pumped a wave of energy toward Oliver. Instinctively, the elder warrior raised his makeshift shield, and it lost about half its alloy defending against the blast. The warped, melted barrier was still standing though. Defiant and ready for more.
One thing had gone over the head of the war-loving mercenary, though. He had arrived with only two guards. The others had joined his party along the way, popping out of nowhere. Not to mention the fact that this fighting force just grew larger and larger. Ares just assumed they were reinforcements… but there was something ominous afoot. Something ominous, indeed.
Bathed in darkness, the red-haired woman sat in a luxurious chair on some unknown level of the base. Her face was veiled by the shadows but a small crack of light hit her cherry-red lipstick. The siren smirked.
“That wasn’t Rosemary,” Pride stated, bluntly.
Juno protested. “But that’s impossible. We all saw her and she moved just like…”
“Her, I know. But that’s what she wanted you to see. It was an illusion, to distract us,” he tried to explain. “Rosemary…” he paused, obviously troubled by this, “…can turn your minds to clay and mold them as she sees fit.” Jackson turned to the others, becoming quite serious, “Keep your wits about you and don’t believe everything you see.”
“In other words, any of you could be her…” retorted the Wizard; to be bitter, but also to break the eerie silence. Surrounded by jets and tanks, Oliver should have felt quite at home. But something about this place gave him the creeps. Cameras aside, it felt like someone else was watching him… prodding him like some kind of lab rat. And the walls, it was like they could breathe, alive with some of presence.
And none of this sat well with the old man.
---
Suddenly, they heard a noise. It was the tapping of boots against concrete, but from multiple sources. So many that the footsteps made a militant chorus … which was not exactly the best of news for the party of three. Juno looked to Wizard, and he to Jackson. There was an unspoken consensus on the audible threat being the ‘bad guys’ and so, they fanned out like soldiers in guerilla warfare.
Juno took cover behind a tank and an orb of ki materialized in his hand. ‘You won’t play me a fool again, Rosemary. Its time to put an end to your games,’ he thought to himself, a psychological preparation for whatever was to come.
About thirty feet away from him, Oliver hammered down on the wing of a jet. His forearm connected with a clank as he tore the feathers from the mechanical bird. Jackson, who had stopped reinforcing the doors for a moment, looked back and tossed him the facial equivalent of ‘wtf?’
“A shield,” he explained, setting up the massive barrier in front of him. It was five feet of metal and rather unwieldy, but it would do the job.
---
The enemy’s entrance was quite literally a booming one, as rocket-propelled explosives rained in on the hangar, obliterating Jackson’s reinforcements on the door, as well as the door itself. There, at the forefront of a battalion of maybe fourty guards, was Ares—the soldier of fortune—unarmed compared to the rest, but only because he preferred his fists. He smirked and called into the hangar, tauntingly, “come out, come out, wherever you are!”
Silence hung about the hangar, as the smoke still guarded the sight of any inhabitants. The mercenary cursed. He was Hell-bent on finding his adversary but he couldn’t see a damned thing. “Nash!” he roared, “Come out and fight, you coward!”
There was a pause before a giant heap of metal and wires penetrated the smoke, headed toward the guards. And then a loud bellow—“Chouginga!”—which was followed by a flaming skull of raw energy that too penetrated the smoke. Moving faster than the first, it collided with the junky airborne pile, triggering a massive explosion that consumed upward of ten soldiers.
Oliver, in the distance, smirked at the larger war veteran. “Using the plane’s fuselage as an explosive? Not bad…” Jackson commented, before they repeated the action and took out another four guards while the rest took cover.
However, the numbers hadn’t died down. Instead, they … increased? Another twenty soldiers replaced those fallen, coming from the sidelines. It seemed as though Kai Demolic had raised his own personal army. When the smoke cleared, they could see just how outnumbered they were – and how screwed they might have been.
Though their tactics had been effective, they wouldn’t hold off long against this army if they didn’t come up with something. And then there was…
“OLD MAN!” Ares yelled; face animating his eagerness to jump into combat. He pumped a wave of energy toward Oliver. Instinctively, the elder warrior raised his makeshift shield, and it lost about half its alloy defending against the blast. The warped, melted barrier was still standing though. Defiant and ready for more.
One thing had gone over the head of the war-loving mercenary, though. He had arrived with only two guards. The others had joined his party along the way, popping out of nowhere. Not to mention the fact that this fighting force just grew larger and larger. Ares just assumed they were reinforcements… but there was something ominous afoot. Something ominous, indeed.
Bathed in darkness, the red-haired woman sat in a luxurious chair on some unknown level of the base. Her face was veiled by the shadows but a small crack of light hit her cherry-red lipstick. The siren smirked.
[SIGPIC][/SIGPIC]
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