November 12, 2019, 10:33 PM
Brooklyn, New York.
Volume 1: Origin
I walked into the room; the sight would haunt me for the rest of my life. A girl, no older than eighteen, was sprawled across the bed. She should be out with friends, partying, and generally having a great time. As a result, predators preyed upon her instead of being protected.
He had witnessed immoral deeds; hell, he had Todd's memories, although he never considered them because he had assumed they were comic characters and make-believe comics were always a reflection of the times. Also, who's to say the DC universe didn't exist? He was proof of multiversal transmission.
"Thi.." It was difficult for me to form the words. I was stopped in my tracks by a glaring notification that wouldn't be denied my attention.
Host-generated mission:[Heroic] You have now begun to witness the darkest parts of the world. Reaffirm your convictions and endeavor to change.
Reward: Steels Kinetic Hammer. Positive alignment increased.
At other times the rewards would have lightened his mood. The new weapon only exacerbated the roiling anger that brewed inside.
Even though the shotgun he held in his hand was long out of ammunition, he had held onto it for the sake of simplicity. It vanished from his hand, winking out of existence only for the hammer's weight to fall into his weighting grip.
Whenever his alignment shifted, he felt as if the metaphysical laws of reality had warped around him. He didn't care about it, he had already decided long ago that he wouldn't be a hero nor would he become a villain; it was entirely up to others to determine whether or not they approved of his actions.
The hammer was a great weapon, but its tech wasn't something John should have had, and he wondered did Steele stumbled across an alien cache. Taking hold of the shaft of the hammer, he tightened his hands around it; like most items in the shop, he had an intuitive understanding of how to use them. The hammer has a voice recognition system synced with the already tech in his cowl. The weapon could store, control and manipulate kinetic and mildly electromagnetic spectrum.
Todd had an almost fetishization of weapons and equipment, and that carried over to Cole. He had, by design, refused to use his Nith-Promethium Katana. The blade was undoubtedly unique, the two metals by themselves a wonder, but together they were, by his estimation, game-changing; out of all his gear, that blade was by far his most deadly and prized.
Host-generated mission continued [Heroic] Rescue Angelica' Angel' Jones from the clutches of Tombstone.
Reward(s): Seventy-Five Thousand dollars. Clark Kent's glasses.
He refocused, his inner monologue and system notification beginning and ending in the span of thought.
She was huddled nude across the bed. Her body was shaking, and her eyes closed; no doubt the noise and the ordeal she had endured had shaken her to her core.
A thought. He froze. His anger subsided. Angelica Jones? He recalled that name, he wondered, but now he understood.
This girl is or would have one day been, Firestar. Firestar had the mutant ability to generate and manipulate microwave radiation, allowing her to fly and create intense heat and flames. In the comics, she has acted as a solo hero, worked in tandem with Spider-Man, and is a member of the Hellions, New Warriors, Avengers, and X-Men.
I placed the hammer down. One of its many properties was its ability to align itself with the Earth's magnetic field, making it virtually impossible to move.
I took a step but stopped as I looked at my armored hands. Even though the haze had dissipated, the heat radiated off them. This power, whatever it was, didn't show in my status, so it must be related to something, or is this my x gene? Was it like her, like Firestar?
I ignored the boas that pinged in my ear because I was focused on saving this girl, and nothing else mattered.
I had no idea she had such an ordeal, but most heroes were once victims; it's sad to say only the best rose above their situations and sought to be better; the ones that blamed others continued the same actions that their victimizers, perpetuating the same vicious cycle.
Despite my best efforts, I could not control this ability. My anger was present, and, in retrospect, this force also manifested itself when my rage got out of control as I tried to control my hands, but to no avail.
And, this rage I had was seemly bottomless, born of the three; I wondered if the next persona would have a more calming effect on me.
I looked at the shivering, bloodied teenager, and I focused harder, pushing aside the power, this energy, and reached toward her. Her eyes shot open, and I froze; she stared at me, my face, costume, and then my hand.
"Please, help me!" She said, her words garbled from her swollen and bruised lips, but in those words, I could glean a will to remain.
"I got you," I said, "take my hand. I will carry you out of here."
She grabbed my hand without hesitation. Taking a step forward, I scooped her up in my arms.
I wondered. The fact that she was in physical contact with me prompted me to check the system, and to my surprise, and her shock, she was clothed. She sobbed into me, shivering and gripping my leather jacket. For the first time coming here, I felt guilty, not because of what occurred but because I could be so much more, and that worried me.
Engrossed, I didn't even notice the presence of men before they engaged me. There is no hesitation at all. There was no call to surrender. I grunted loudly, pain spreading across my back before the sounds of multiple guns began to sound out. I hissed as I huddled protectively over my charge.
She screamed, gripping me protectively, and I roared, screaming my anger at the pain and the man that tried to kill her and me.
At that moment, I was engulfed in my rage, and for a short while, I heard a faint chant that wasn't coming from the system, and I could feel the heat coming from me. It roiled and simmered in the air, sparking the furniture and room on fire; paint and walls pulled, and I burned with it.
I heard a startling cry of fear and horror from behind me. As I gazed down at Angelica, she was still curled up against me tight; the heat wasn't bothering her. 'Maybe she is awakening.'
The obvious mercs moved back, their tactical gear burning as the haze emanated from me. I reached out, not unlike Thor, as I called the hammer to my waiting hand.
The heat was so intense even I could feel it. I let my rage brew but attempted to control it. Like a starving wolf in winter, the rage craved its sustenance, feeding on the anger of three personas.
I whirled around, keeping her to my side as I sent a powerful kick into the midsection of the nearest tactical-dressed man, bowling over the other like pins as I rushed through the door. I brought the hammer down on the third floor, cracking and destroying the foundation as the bottom fell; I dropped down with her in my arms. I landed on my feet in a crouch of smoke and debris.
More men entered. Angelica hung around my neck, her eyes wide at what I was capable of, her weight inconsequential as I shifted her around to prepare myself.
The boa's drones were on overwatch. I needed her out of the way, and I needed to leave before someone decided to say fuck it and call the cops; at the moment, no call was sent out as my drones were able to monitor that too.
I jumped to the side, clearing a dining table as a grenade was hefted into the room. The explosion sent me sliding across the floor; Angelica yelped but was alright, considering what she dealt with.
I grabbed her, kicked the table over, and slid her behind it. Little protection that would bring. I made eye contact with her and said, "Follow the drone; it will lead you out." The drone in question whirled into the room under the cloak of smoke. I pointed toward the back. "Head out the back. It's clear."
"Why," she stammered, huddled down as bullets destroyed the remainder of her home.
I tightened my hand on the hammer but couldn't unleash it now; the blast would harm her. I activated the feature that shortened the shaft to half an arm's length and placed it on my utility belt; the hammer would adhere to me and won't move an inch.
I stared at her over the noise of gunfire. "Because I could!" I growled.
Angelica looked toward me, numb to everything around her, as she sought answers. Why did he save her?
"You will do great things one day. Live." I responded to her unanswered questions. I turned and raised my arm and summoned my modified 1911 and returned fire.
She continued to stare at me; why can't this be easier?
"Who are you?" She said, crouching down and getting closer to me. I groaned my displeasure.
"Red Hood at your service. Now, please, leave; if they decide to circle, you're stuck here with me, and you cannot survive this now." I said, shooting an overzealous mercenary in the head.
"How-"I grabbed her, causing her to yell at my sudden action.
"Please. Leave. Now." I said, releasing my intimidation ability. I summoned a basic Glock and placed it in her hand. Her eyes enlarged as she stared at me.
The gunfire sputtered to a stop briefly before whatever effect I had over them was a fleeting one. I jumped over the table, unraveling my ability again; my rage roiled and boiled inside me as I focused on the men between me and the answers.
Angelica had crawled away hurriedly; I would meet up with her later, I needed her to get away, and the drone would take her to a storm shelter that wasn't too far for her to run toward.
I've shaken the hornet nest tonight. Tombstone had it known about this attack now. The man himself didn't show up, which was a small mercy; a battle between us would have caused more than a burning house.
They came at me hard. I zeroed in on them as I dismantled each merc that met me in close quarters; the idiots must have decided to take me in alive. I laughed as I held a man, his body soaking up ammunition. My hand burned through his armor as he gargled on his blood—I through him toward two mercenaries.
And I crushed them, each guilty; there would be no judge or jury, only an execution. I knew the world was dark; some influential figures had done unspeakable things, their strength allowing them to move indiscriminately
I say no more!
I grabbed the hammer, and it extended in my hand. I roared and smashed the men in the yard, crushing bone and armor alike.
I can be more!
The kinetic energy swelled inside the hammer as it hummed in my hand; the impacts sent men flying across the lawn, the neighborhood was awake as lights came on, and behind curtains, cameras were facing toward me, toward the destruction of those soldiers.
Another armored truck pulled onto the street. I stared through the cowl interface. These weren't your everyday mercenaries.
I just needed time!
Jeremy suffered so much it changed him fundamentally; he should be amongst the privileged, yet he was brought so low he was amongst the worst of his generation, with drugs, depravity, and no future.
I will be that changed! I will accept the anger, rage, hate, and hatred of those that can't. I reaffirmed to myself.
In a synaptic burst, my motivation sparked out in a flood. Whatever I wanted to do, I could. My body became an engine of my will, a device for my cause, and my reason was killing the hell out of those mercs. So I went about my business. I grabbed the nearest merc and growled into his face; my ability grew uncontrolled as he screamed in horror and pain as he immolated.
I dumped the body against the ground and spun around, slinging the hammer with all my strength; my anger and rage needed an outlet, and the sledgehammer tumbled head over the shaft toward the armored vehicle.
The kinetic hammer can increase its kinetic energy the farther it is thrown. At a distance up to 20 yards, it can stop a car; at 30 yards, a truck; at 60 yards, a tank; and lengths greater than 60 yards, its destructive capacity could rival that of Superman.
The humming was heard from every individual on the block. Windows opened as they watched the armored man in a red cowl battled an army of men; gunshots didn't hinder him as he gave back twenty times what he got.
The homeowners long through caution to the wind and called the cops, but they waited; they all knew somehow that whatever erupted in that house was gods punishment.
There was a loud explosion as the hammer hit the armored vehicle, and a bright light engulfed the night, but the aftermath shook everyone to the core. They had never seen anything so strange in their lives before.
There was a crack in the asphalt around the impact zone; the road shuddered like a small earthquake as homes shook to their foundations and car alarms went off.
Name: Cole Stephens
Known Name: Jeremy York
Race: Inhuman Mutant
Alias- Red Hood
Alignment: +Neutral
System-Bank: $195,999
Persona(s)Jason Peter Todd- Red Hood 91%|100%
Attributes
Intelligence: +Moderate Tier 2
Strength: +Moderate Tier 2
Speed: -Moderate Tier 2
Durability: -Moderate Tier 2
Energy Projection: +Potential Tier 1 —>2
Fighting Skills: +Advanced Tier 2
Gear-Inventory
Red Hood Costume
Batman Utility Belt
Scarecrow Gear
Orichalcum Knives
Nth-Promethium Katana
Dual Pistols [9mm rounds]
Dual Modified M1911 [.45 rounds]
Fear Toxin
Smoke Grenade
Pocket Explosives
High Powered Taser
Bulk Medical Bag
Bulk Duffle Bag [Electronics]
Kinetic Hammer
Abilities
[Latent] X-Gene
[Unexposed] Terrigenesis
[+1] Holder of the Hero-Villain System.
[+1] Enhanced Investigation.
[+1] Skilled marksman and expert tactician
[+2] Skilled martial artist and hand-to-hand combatant
[+1] Understanding and Utilization of high-tech equipment and weapons.
[+2] Enhanced strength, speed, and durability due to exposure to the Lazarus Pit and your latent mutant and inhuman metamorphosis.
[+1] Inhuman Optimal Healing Factor: Granted by the system, you can heal from extreme mental or bodily trauma in minutes.
[Limited] Intimidation: Your presence alone instills instinctual fear into lesser beings. This may cause individuals to be manipulated by you through fear. This ability is considered a mutant ability.