Blood… it decorated the walls of this place, the grunting of a man heard with the squishing of flesh faintly being heard as well. The door ripped off its hinges, . Entering deeper into this house, it was clear that it was broken into, with bullet shells on the carpet and a cut off hand with its fingers wrapped tightly against the grip and squeezing the trigger. But, before this person could even shoot the last bullet, his hand was sliced off. You could tell from that from the seemingly clean-cut that was at the end of the sliced-off hand. Even more, evidence, as stated before, the walls were stained with the fresh blood of the victims, and there was some broken glass that had been destroyed by maybe an attempt at harming the true culprit. What this had come from were family photos, with the frames being destroyed as they might've hit the culprit. Or maybe the culprit hit the victims over the head with it? Either way, one thing was for sure… this wasn't a random murder. This was a passionate one. The culprit must've been filled with hate and driven by revenge. Going to the photograph that had fallen out of the now broken frame, it showed three people. A pregnant dark brunette woman with glasses on her forehead smiling ear to ear, a middle-aged clean-shaven man holding the woman from behind his arms around her stomach, and a male child, it seemed. His face was crossed out, and most of his entire body was as well, except for his legs. At the bottom right of the photo, there was a date and words written above the date. 'Karlo Family Photo'. In the kitchen, a female body laid there with a knife in her stomach, her eyes cut out. Her stomach seemed to have a bump… she was pregnant when she had been murdered.
In the sala, however, a hooded male human had repeatedly been driving a blade into a man's throat. His limbs were removed, with no arms or legs. To torture him with the pain of losing multiple limbs before he had driven the blade into his chest. Finally, the murderer pulled away, ripping his head back and breathing, blood covering his face and hoodie. The Culprit fell to his knees, and after about one minute, he nodded, his cybernetic eye shone with a green tone. Standing up shortly, the Outcast stared up at the ceiling that towered over his head, nodding to himself. This had to be done.
Stepping up the stairs of the house, dreadfully exhaling as he ran his cybernetic arm through his smooth brown hair, knowing he would do something he wouldn't ever regret. Ryder knew this was what they deserved what they got for what they did to him. Flashes of the past and the present came to him, of what he had experienced. He was constantly fed bullshit, talked down to, emotionally and physically abused, and starved. He was considered to be the worst disappointment in the whole Karlo generation.
But, that all changed, when he realized something. The Kingdom had its chance, in the end, they were the same as everyone else who'd promised him that he'd be taken care of. Loved. Appreciated. Only he could rely on himself in the end, even now, with the Prelle Family Mob at his side, aiding him with his vision, he couldn't feel more alone. That is how he was destined to be, forever, what point was there in complaining about destiny?
Reaching above the stairs, his eyes gazed upon the holes in the wall, made by knuckles that bled from the anger their parents had caused them. Bloodthirsty sentences carved in wood, right eye-watering as he examined the writings he'd created over the years of his existence. Not like they could afford paint, his parents wasted all their damn money on this house so they could impress a couple of useless people who cared about nothing but themselves,
"KILL ME... JUST MAKE IT STOP. WHY DIDN'T THEY EVER LOVE ME...? I WISH ELLIE WAS WITH ME... I MISS MADI," But they never came. No matter how much he wished for someone to notice, the bandages he always wore, the attitude he'd manifested, they never did. No one ever did. No one ever cared- except for one person.
"Lizzy?" His voice rang out, opposite to how it was before, soft, calming, the tiny girl under the bed recognized the cadence. She'd heard it for years, it was her brother.
"R-Ryder?" Tears had dried, previously having fallen in streams down her cheeks, visible after she crawled out from the darkness beneath her mattress. There he was, kneeling, cowl peeled back to reveal his face, a bright smile as he gazed at her appearance. She was here.
"It's me, sis... I got you--" But that was hours ago, that was when life had gotten simply better for him when everything didn't seem so difficult, and annoying. Suddenly, a voice thrust him back into the reality he hated, a voice he'd known all too well,
"Excuse me- Mr. Karlo?" The replacement for the deceased Secretary of Defense, Brandon Cooper had cried out to the reminiscing Karlo, who lifted his head from the somberness of his heart. Gazing into the dagger-like pupils of the Officials of the law in front of him. Classical Beethoven playing on Harp, the bartender readying drinks while the people outside walked past in a crowd, the time had been 8:28 P.M., EST.
Secretary Cooper was seated in front of him, fingers interlocked as he awaited the proposition Karlo was about to create, to the left, there was the replacement for the murdered Director of the FBI, Edgar Coldwell. And finally, to the right of the Defense Secretary, there sat the Lead Scientist for Superhuman Control, Abaddon Kuno. Visibly older from the black hair with strands of grey, the opposite to his hair.
"You were proposing a solution to the Rivera problem, weren't you?" Sometimes, it just happens randomly, visions of the past entering his mind, no matter how distant, how modern, somehow it always managed to snake its way into his mind. That would change today.
Upon his snap back into reality, there were three things he noticed, all individually about the pallette that the trio held over their eyes. Purple for the Scientist, white for the Secretary, and red for the Director. The Outcast didn't think anything of it, ~Maybe they just put on those colored contacts to seem threatening~ Superhumans have eye colors that correspond to their unique capabilities, so, if they wanted to color their eyes with fake contacts, to make it seem like they had higher power than they in truth don't have, who was Ryder to stop them?
"Yes- uh, yes, I believe I was. Ahem," His hands, fleshy and artificial, laid flat on the tabletop, clearing his throat, cybernetic pupil pushing its way through their layers. Their heartbeats steady, their ears ready, it was time for his proposal.
"CEO Ben Rivera, as he refers to himself on social media, Twitter, Instagram, etc., is in truth, a superhuman. Having been affected, the same as myself, as well as half of the World on October 16th, 2012. He murdered about 57 FBI officers on September 27th, 2018, the former Secretary of Defense earlier that same day, and of course, he allowed his adopted sister, Shadow Romero, to execute the deceased Director of the FBI in cold blood. Because of these atrocities that have been committed by this man, we all allied. Between the Prelle Family Mob and the United States Government, we all intend to take down Rivera and his associates. Time and time again, you people have attempted to bring down Rivera, while, at the same time, keeping his weapons in your possession, due to them being the most advanced you've ever had in your jurisdiction. Here's your issue, you've been going about this too casually. Everyone knows you've been abducting superhumans ever since the origin of the Spread, use them to your advantage," It was a simple proposal, the Government Officials together glanced at one another, all seemingly pondering about the same thing. The representative of the Moon Arcana that he was, the brown-haired Heterochromic gazed out of the see-through mirror. Everything was so tiny from up here, past the balcony that the plethora of other guests was dining upon, he could see it.
The lights that danced in the moonlight, the fainted audio of the cars that zoomed down the road below, and that orbiting white sphere that shined its light onto his face from the starry abyss. Director Coldwell sat forward, extremities interlocked together, blowing some air out from his lips that flapped together, staring at the turned rear of their genetically enhanced comrade.
"From our brief discussion together, we've concluded that- since you seem mentally sound, we will gift you some of our superhumans to use against the Riveras. Should they fail their task, our deal will be dropped, and the New York Police Department will continue to chase after the Prelle Family Mob. Creating Ryder Karlo as our number one... target," Nothing of what Coldwell had informed him of was important, the superhumans failing? He was sure of it. Is the Mob once more being chased after? Why did they ever stop? However... him, being the number one target?
"Excuse... ME?" Snarled the Outcast, flicking his two metal fingers in unison, a snap! audible entering their ears. From that sound, he was able to control them- easily, Secretary Cooper's head exploded in a ball of blood. The remaining duo of Government Officials, Kuno, and Coldwell, gasping at the sight. Instinctively holding the sides of their heads, as their friend's body hunched over, bleeding onto the cloth the table had been covered in. The stomp that once held the Defense Secretary's skull slowly ran out of blood, the leaking halted as the Outcast cleared his throat and chuckled, wiping the blood off of his face.
"Let's set something straight, okay? You're only alive, BECAUSE I'M ALLOWING IT!! Because I. WANT TO DO THIS. BY THE FUCKING BOOKS! I could easily blow each of your heads up, or better yet, turn my fucking hand into a buzzsaw and cut your head in half. Your sense of power is gone, you hold nothing over me because there is nothing you have on me. You people think you rule over us, but, in reality, you're no weaker than the humans beneath us. Tch... I don't like repeating myself. It's fucking useless," The Outcast spun around, hand moving across the blood-soaked window, peering through at the lighting that radiated back onto him. Lighting only half of his face- the left half.
"I only need one of you," Uttered the broken Outcast, it took a simple turning of an arm before Director Coldwell said goodbye to his life. A green superheated straight beam of plasma slicing through his chest, cutting him directly in half. BOOM. As Kuno lifted himself out of his wooden chair, he was seated back down, metal palm pushing into his right shoulder.
"It's okay... it's okay..." Whispered Karlo, covered in his colleague's blood, swallowing, and opening his replacement palm so it'd be facing the right of his remaining ally's cranium.
"You're taking me to the Pentagon. Without the President's permission, you tell anyone about this, you're ending up worse than your useless piece of shit friend over there. Is that fucking clear, asshole?" Awaiting a response as the extremity radiated with a green aura, descending his face to hover next to Kuno's. Smirking as the Scientist nodded, the shine dissipated. Retaking his previous position, with his hand into the collar of the Scientist.
"Good," Just like that, in the World of faded time, Doctor Kuno and the Outcast evaporated suddenly. Heading straight for the Pentagon all away in Washington D.C. where the next Chapter of the Protectors laid.
November 13th, 2019. 2:03 P.M., EST.
"The upcoming Smith Art Display is in 2 days, beginning at 8:30 in Manhattan, CEO Dolion Smith has expressed interest in inviting Rivera Manufacturing CEO Ben Rivera to join him. Though there hasn't been any response from the infamous playboy billionaire, the countdown is inching closer and closer toward a time where a response is needed. Wherever you are, Mr. Rivera, we are waiting for you," A puff of aerosol exited the hole above his chin, left-hand scratching at the scruff surrounding his lips, the black-haired Rivera sibling muttering a low,
"Huh," It still felt surreal, sometimes, his little brother, the same kid that'd stay up until 5 AM whenever their mother was out for too long, had become one of the richest people in the World. Not to mention the most controversial, but you know what they say, 'There's no such thing as bad publicity,' even though that was a lie. Indistinct sentences were audible from upstairs, his missing siblings presumed to be talking with their Board of Directors, as Ella held out her hand for the cigar.
Inhaling the exhaust blown from the outside through the interior into her mouth, it burst out, tilting her head upward. The siblings' voices got louder, echoing across the walls, some of their words reaching the ears of their brother and friends.
"KIDDING... MOTHER... SHIT!" Like those, mostly originating from the voicebox of his youngest sibling. Jason brushed his palms together, biting on his lip, hearing his icy brown-haired friend,
"The fuck is that about?" Inquired the Magician, leaning back on the chair to the left of the Priestess, his best friend exiting the kitchen taking a quick bite of the sandwich he'd made. Seconds later, after he took the other bite, and Jason gave a shrug to Miller as his answer, the Emperor and the Empress of the Stars exited from the upper deck of the Penthouse. Artemis following her new creator as he walked in front of his sister. Turning on the sofa, Jason readied to open his mouth to ask his brother about the call he'd just made to the Board of Rivera Manufacturing,
"Before any of you fucking ask, I'm just gonna say it. Yesterday, while we were dropped down here from that 'Temple', some piece of shit fucking bitch stole date from my main FUCKING LAPTOP! Not only has Athena been lying to you this whole fucking time, JASON, but... if she releases the info she stole into the media- guess what? WE'RE. FUCKING. OVER! No more island vacations, no more yacht sex parties, no smoking weed together like there's not a fucking care in the goddamn world!" From the veins that were about to pop out in his neck, the glowing soul that burned with anger, visible in a dark blue aura that surrounded his body, it was clear- he was pissed off. None of the Protectors had seen their friend/brother this way, it was new, especially considering he was one of the strongest superhumans on Earth. An angry superhuman is like an angry Superman. You just don't want it.
Madi pushed her foot, covered by a purple sock, in front of her sibling, arm reaching out to block his chest from moving any further. Sighing, her eyes made evident contact with Artemis' pink palette ones, the A.I. stepping forward, from her pupils, she created a transparent hologram visible to everyone.
"Rivera Manufacturing's satellite, funded by the SpaceX corporation, had picked up an immense power surge around Queens, New York. The approximate location is Ryder Karlo's former house, while we do not know what he's done there, I'm sure we should all check it out to see if he's there or not. Furthermore, this could lead to more clues to Ryder Karlo's location, and whether he's left America or not," Was Ryder so oblivious? To out his whole location like that- or was that even the true purpose behind returning there? Ella thought about her best friend, the time they'd spent together over the years leading up to his betrayal now and then.
"Easy, get in, find out where Athena is, get out, find Athena, kill her, kill Ryder. We all get to jerk each other off at the end, blah blah. Get the fuck off of your damn asses and follow me, we got my career to save," Everyone obeyed, not because they were scared of the Emperor, they were scared for him. His career gets destroyed, his daughter is targeted, so is his wife, then Jason's daughter, then Charlie, then Abby, Veronica, Astin, it all goes full circle. This wasn't just Ben's problem. It was theirs- together.
In Queens, they all arrived on the scene, no crime scene was made, no police cars in the vicinity. No one had witnessed the atrocity that had occurred at this location hours ago, the slaughter of the Karlo Family. One step inside was like entering a slaughterhouse, blood reigned over the walls of the abode, the severed hand resting in front of the entrance. Dried blood beneath the sliced-off limb, Jason kneeled to slide his two fingers, middle along with pointer, through the dried pool. Flicking it quickly alongside his tongue, to Henry and Matt's disgust, the Justice was able to determine the age of the fluid,
"Been here for a day, no one's been in here for a while," His findings were inaccurate, unhelpful, though the Emperor meant nothing of it, he knew that his A.I. partner would aid more. Kneeling beside her creator's older sibling, Artie sent him a firm nod, signaling for him to back away, while her HUD studied the desiccated gore.
"This hand was sliced off at 5:37 P.M., on November 12th, 2019. The steel used to slice off this limb is not any steel that is used by any knives. It is made from Konpeki. The very metal my creator discovered years ago in 2016. Ms. Garcia, you informed us of how Ryder Karlo hated his family, he wanted to kill them. And now that he's finally accomplished his dream- why would he leave so suddenly?" Artemis held a firm logical point, knowing Ryder, Madi debated if he'd stay or not, would he revel in the lives he'd taken or leave like they never mattered? Scratching her chin, Henry slowly moved through his crowd, the gloves gifted to him by his billionaire ally snapping into place against his wrist.
"So, she thinks that Ryder's still here? How about we--?" Abruptly, two straight beams of heat vision lasered through the roof. Luckily, as they hit Henry, they ricocheted off his figure and sliced off the right arm of the standing Jason. Snarling in anger, he fell to the floor, where Henry ran to his aid, immediately attempting to cauterize the wound, while Matthew pushed his way out of the ceiling. Wrapping his fingers around the throat of the attempted assassin, fingers digging into his esophagus, the ice spreading through the teenager's body. Ben followed, leaping through the ceiling, watching as the Magician dropped the boy, and his fist slammed right through the boy's frozen head just before gravity could push him into the hole in Ryder Karlo's house. Skeleton spreading into multiple shards of glaciers, the Emperor and Magician tilted their head, the latter of the duo hovering over his CEO best friend.
"Uh... wasn't that a little too easy?" Would someone that had such a useful power like heat vision let themselves be taken out so easily? There had to be something bigger going on that Ben hadn't seen yet, but Matt, on the other hand, he was the one to notice what the Emperor was blind to.
"Ben, look out!" Yelled his older ally, a push from his legs sending him in front of his adolescent companion, a quick shield of glaciers surrounding his arms. Though it blocked the energy-based attack momentarily, Matthew was oblivious to what sort of heat the blast had held. It melted through his shield, but thanks to the power granted to him by the Universe, Ben sliced his way out from behind Miller and teleported away as his arms wrapped around him. Stumbling onto the road across from the assaulter, the Emperor held his arm, burnt by the graze that had been created from the heat his adversary had created.
"I got this," The others were inside, tending to Jason's wound, with Artemis and Ella watching their friend battle the enemy superhuman. Ready to step in, the Priestess took one step from the steps leading up to the front entrance, to which the Magician of Ice lifted his opposite-to-right index finger to the air.
"Don't worry, Ellie, Artie- I can take care of this asshole," Although impressed by his display of vitality and bravery, following Artemis' example, El took a step back,
"I thought I told you guys not to call me that..." A well-crafted persona to cover her true self, truthfully awaiting what sort of display of emotion he'd show next. Ben, unable to fight, his powers disabled by the burn the enemy had created, he watched while seated on the lawn of another person's lawn.
The superhuman adversary the Magician was facing was a male, tan skin, maybe the same shade as Jason's when he was younger, orange fiery eyes that resembled those of the Chariot. Biting down on his lip, the icy glaciers that took the form of Matthew's eyes analyzed the outfit this man wore. A grey long-sleeved shirt covered most of his chest leading up to his hands, the same colored sweatpants, but most importantly, a chain. The yellow- golden chain was a fireball in the middle from the string that surrounded the neck of the teenage superhuman, the beaten Ben could tell he was prepubescent from the small strands of red scruff underneath his chin.
"Mind telling us why you're doing this?" Nothing, no answer emerged from the abyss that the superhuman called his throat, there was something though. However, it didn't originate from the lips of this enhanced Homosapien, it was a nametag plastered onto his left breast. It read, "Sam," in black magic marker. His eyes widened at the mention of that cadence, that was...!
"Sis..." The wrong gender, of course, but that didn't matter. His sister's name was Samantha, the superhuman's name in front of him Samuel- would he be the cause of another Sam's demise? No, no, of course not. There was no sense of anger within him, though he shared the same name as his sister from way back when that didn't mean anything... except a new chance.
"Let's get this over with," The enemies charged at one another, their fists ready to collide as Ben witnessed the fight from below, slowly standing. Attempting to limp over to his ex-girlfriend and A.I. ally, the battle between the Magician and his past commenced. To end in Chapter 4.