The guy from Archer Square, the guy who easily splattered two Reapers with nothing more than his hands before- and who just completely obliterated an entire group of Reapers and turned them into fine mist.
And now he had machete-like claws pasted to the ends of his arms and loomed over Cole, ready to tear into him.
Cole wasted no time. He kicked off the ground to propel himself backwards, while also sending a powerful bolt into the man's chest. He stumbled back with a snarl, and Cole just whipped around and dropped off the roof, sprinting across the one lower without even making sure the guy was down. Something- something was off about that guy, something that was crawling down his back and was screaming on the inside of his head, telling him to get the Hell out of there. The screech of his phone didn't salvage the situation at all.
"Cole?! What is going on?!" Moya asked sharply with a hint of panic.
"Get your guys here!" Cole all but shouted, "I'm not sure I can take that guy!"
"What guy, Cole?!"
"A conduit!" He yelled, "Skinny guy, shapeshifting powers- WHOA!" The ground buckled behind him, making him nearly lose his balance. The man had dropped onto the roof below, the force shaking the whole building. Cole didn't waste any time to look as he jumped onto a wire and hurried further away, when he heard something crack.
Like before, the guy slammed into him with incredible force and with no warning at all- No, not like before.
Before it had been pretty rough, but now all breath was punched from Cole's lungs and three of his ribs were simply gone. Not broken, but gone. Obliterated.
The two men hit hard into the next roof, Cole gasping in pain when the guy dropped on him. He was way too heavy for a normal person- and the tumble didn't even seem to have disoriented him, was instead already rolling off Cole and to his feet, getting some distance within a heartbeat. The courier knew he couldn't stay down and tried to summon lightning with a groan, but he failed to breathe normally from the sheer agony tearing through his body.
His hair stood on edge and he rolled over his shoulder to get his feet beneath his body, then lunged to the side to barely avoid a sudden pounce from the guy. He knew that guy from somewhere, but at the moment his brain was too busy screaming and running circles as he just ducked under another wide swing. At the same moment, he released lightning all across his surface and the man backed off with a snarl.
"Cole?!"
The man lunged again, claws spread wide. Cole rolled to the side to avoid the blow, but the metallic tips still caught him on the shoulder, slicing through his flesh and bone like through wet paper. Cole grunted, the pain not setting in right now from how sharp the bladed talons were, then fired a few lightning bolts at the man, who more than easily jumped over them to avoid them.
Suddenly he pounced at him from mid-air, kicking off the air with a burst of energy. Cole dove to the side, trying to avoid him, while also firing another burst of electricity at the guy. The man rolled in the air to avoid the barrage, then ground his teeth together and made a move for him, ignoring the electricity surging around him. His giant bladed claws snatched Cole's throat mercilessly and closed around it in a vise-like grip. Cole choked and grabbed the spiny wrist, increasing his energy output to try and make him let go. The man hissed, his muscles twitched- but then he simply squeezed some more, cutting off air and blood circulation.
The courier gasped, drawing back his powers on instinct as he clawed uselessly at the metallic talons, breaking his own skin on contact with the barbed steel-like surface.
"Shit! Get someone over there ASAP!" He heard Moya shout. The man froze for a split second, before he plucked the phone off with his claws and send it clattering across the roof, obviously unbothered by his victim's attempt to break free.
A surge of rage raced through him, and Cole snarled and swung his legs back, then kneed the guy full force into the groin.
He could be kicking a wall at that rate. The guy didn't even acknowledge it- instead his hold on the courier tightened, before the man pushed off the ground. Cole's stomach dropped as they rocketed straight upwards- around ten stories or so in a single bound. The wind was whipping harshly at him when they suddenly changed direction. He could see faint red trails vanish into thin air, but he was too occupied with clawing at the talon that was cutting off his oxygen supply.
The man hit another roof hard, and Cole didn't even know where they were at the moment, only that the shock of impact made his bones rattle and strained his neck. He grunted, realizing that his spine would snap at this rate, before he wrapped his arms tightly around the spiky black flesh to take his own weight and the acceleration off his throat.
He tried to figure out where they were going, but they were going too fast. The world blurred around him, and all he could do was try to get the claws to open slightly to get a bit more blood into his brain to be able to think again.
He became aware of a building's facade coming too close though, and managed to choke a grunt. They hit the glass face, but instead of breaking through or bouncing off, the man continued running.
Up the wall. Against gravity.
Cole choked, staring as the street became smaller and smaller beneath him. Then they sailed across the rooftop's edge, and he felt the pressure letting up completely. Instead, he found himself bodily flung across the roof, hurtling into the rooftop exit with so much force, the concrete cracked. His vision blurred out of focus, but he still tried to scramble to his feet. He didn't get very far though, as the massive claw was back at his throat again, slamming him into the wall and pinning him there in a way his feet barely touched the ground. Cole hissed and charged up again, forcing his body to give of electricity in powerful discharges.
He heard the other man snarl in pain, but the grip only tightened, metallic nails and black spikes cutting into his soft throat, taking away all circulation and letting rivulets of blood soak into his clothes. His vision was dimming rapidly, and his power petered off into weak sparks. He could feel himself losing consciousness, but then the claw let up suddenly allowing his body to draw in much-needed air. He was supposed to stay alive- for now, but the implications were clear- he couldn't use his abilities or the other was going to restrain him again.
Instead, the man leaned closer, icy blue eyes fixing Cole. "Who is Moya Jones?" He snarled, his hot breath washing over Cole, who wrinkled his nose at the slightly rotting scent it was carrying.
"Go to Hell", the courier bit back, straining his muscles in hopes of breaking free. "Why should I tell you anything?! You just dragged me here, nearly snapped my neck while at it!" He snarled at the other, and lightning jumped from his skin along with his rising temper. The man grit his teeth as the discharge raced through his body and scorched his flesh, but didn't let go, forcibly wrenching his talons back together to try and choke the courier again.
But Cole wouldn't let him. Rage flooded through his body and wrenched every last ounce of the energy stored there. The dark sky came alive and a powerful thunderstorm was unleashed. The hooded man jerked back, releasing Cole as he tried to avoid the bolts of electricity. The courier dropped to the ground, gasping, but the entire focus of his ire and rage was solely on the hooded man. And the elements of nature obeyed his anger. The thunderstorm started following the hooded man, hitting him with everything it had. Cole actually smirked at the howling that reached his ears, unbothered that it didn't sound human at all, unbothered by the stench of scorched flesh.
And then the man simply stopped, knees buckling as he brought one talon over his head and the other twisted into a giant, wicked-looking sword the size its owner. Much of the lightning was instantly channeled into the metal of the blade and was simply conducted into the rooftop and away from him, while heavy, black armor plates rose from his surface and covered his body.
The remaining lightning glanced off the shell.
Cole gasped in shock and tried to focus harder on frying him, but it didn't seem to work anymore- too much was lost through the impromptu lightning rod, while the remaining armor simply offered too much resistance for the lightning bolts to get through, protecting the bastard too well.
And, to make matters worse, his reserves were sucked dry and Cole found it incredibly hard to focus. His headache was back, roaring in his ears as his lightning became weaker, until it were mere weak sparks. The courier groaned, dropping to his knees as tremors ran through his body. His side was on fire, and the wound on his shoulder and throat were bleeding again, having opened from his struggle.
The hooded man seemed ultimately undisturbed as the lightning tapered off. He dragged his blade free and rose from the crouch he had been in, shifting both arms back into vaguely human limbs before he turned his featureless face towards him. Cole hissed and struggled to his feet, taking a protective stance when the guy stepped towards him, allowing him a little clearer look at him. His body still looked male, but it was no longer coated in clothes, but rather organic-looking armor. The plates melted into the other like wax, there was a collar at the back of his head, the abdominal muscles looked like they had been carved into the dark shell, arms and legs appeared to be covered with bands of steel that merged with another. Spikes jutted out of his kneecaps and elbows, and claws were at the end of each finger.
The face itself wasn't a face to speak of- just a blank shell with a few groves and indentations, but nowhere near where eyes should be. And he still had the feeling that bastard was grinning at him.
Suddenly he moved, lunging at the courier and just sweeping one leg to easily topple him and send him to the ground. Cole growled and tried to get back up, but a heavy foot crashed on his chest and simply pinned him there. And no amount of wriggling made a difference.
"It would be easier if you stopped struggling" The armored man growled, voice garbled through the featureless faceplate.
"Like Hell!" Cole shouted, but the foot came down a bit harder and he trailed off in breathless curses.
"Really?" The other drawled out. "We have seen that I am easily able to overpower you, even without the armor. You have no hopes of beating me."
Cole balled his fists. "I am not afraid of you", he growled.
"You are", the other replied, armor shivering and pulling back, shifting into a normal-looking leather jacket and a pair of jeans. He leaned down, adding some more pressure to the courier's chest as he bared his teeth. "Remember this- because this is the only warning you will get."
"You are", the other replied, armor shivering and pulling back, shifting into a normal-looking leather jacket and a pair of jeans. He leaned down, adding some more pressure to the courier's chest as he bared his teeth. "Remember this- because this is the only warning you will get."
"A warning?" Cole bit out, trailing off into swearwords when the weight increased slightly.
The bared teeth above him turned into a grin. "Don't even think about telling your handler about my presence here. Because if you do, everybody will die."
Icy sweat clung to Cole's back and his eyes narrowed dangerously. Who in the world- who was this guy? Who was he to make such claims?
"You will keep silent about this", he repeated again.
"Or what?" Cole bit out, struggling to heave the weight off him. "Or else you'll murder my friends? My family?"
"No", the man replied with a scoff. "Because your handler would do all of this herself." He stepped back, finally allowing the young man to climb back to his feet. "Because if she learns about my presence here, she will have no choice but to force her way in, and kill whoever is in her way. Because that is how it had been since Manhattan."
Manhattan? Cole growled lowly. "What does Manhattan have to do with this?"
The man chuckled and the courier's hair rose in faint terror. "'I' have destroyed Manhattan. 'I' was the one to kill it three years ago. Your Moya, your state- they are hunting me. Trying to stop me, to capture me. And they will gladly shoot through the people to get to me."
Cole's face paled. There was only one who fit the description.
Alex Mercer.
The Terrorist of Manhattan. The killer that murdered two and a half million people three years ago. And upon his return the following summer, continued with devastating what was left of the city. Manhattan had been torn apart, every last living thing inside had been killed and the city itself closed off.
And Mercer was here. In Empire City.
The young man hissed and backed off, terror and rage mounting and activating weak sparks along his limbs. Whatever good it would do to him- Mercer had killed two and a half million people within two weeks, had survived the United State's Marine Corps not only once, but twice- and he had been powerful enough to easily take him down without showing any signs of weakening. Him- the guy who could control lightning as the extension of his mind.
He had to get away...had to contact Moya, had to get someone to stop the terrorist.
"You will not", Mercer's deep voice rumbled. "Because I will watch you, Cole. I will make sure you won't talk. If you do- if you only think about it- I will murder you."
"Why didn't you already?"
"Because I still have enough respect for you. And you are a good camouflage to me. As long you are still around and fight these Reapers, nobody is going to look at me closely."
Cole growled, his expression darkening. Bastard didn't know who he was messing with, here. Seriously, there was no reason to believe that guy. And Moya did have man power. Hell, if she knew then maybe there would finally be soldiers around here that actually took care of things.
"Go screw yourself", he snarled.
He didn't even see Mercer move. He only realized that he was slammed back into the wall with a pair of giant razor-like claws that glowed eerily in the darkness. Mercer's eyes were flashing brilliantly crimson, and his teeth were maybe a bit too sharp. "Got it?!" He snarled, "You will keep your mouth shut about this here, and I will not murder you or anybody who ever meant anything to you."
Cole struggled against the hold, but couldn't break free. He just knew the guy meant it. Mercer was stronger, faster and way more ruthless than him- and remembering the Reapers from before, he had been clearly pulling his punches when they fought. Cole's life had turned into a shitfest within one day- but if anything being declared a terrorist only made him fight harder, to prove to everybody who the real guy responsible was. Maybe it was his pride, maybe it was the stubborn hope that Trish would come back to him, but he was going to show the world that they couldn't screw with Cole MacGrath.
And then Mercer came along and just forced him to do whatever he wanted. And Cole went along with it, having no chance against someone as powerful as that freak. For some reason Mercer also didn't want him to be dead at the moment- as evident that Cole was still alive- but he needed him scared into submission. There was no way around it- the courier hissed and managed a jerky nod.
And Mercer actually let him go.
"Remember: I'll be watching you", the terrorist growled before he leapt off the roof and dropped out of view. Cole could hear the sound of the impact seconds later, could feel the tremor run through the entire building.
The courier groaned and sat down, rubbing his neck. He had managed to get out of some serious troubles- and he had gained nothing for it. He was weakened, injured- and had gained a stalker that could probably murder him without him having time to blink.
He was certain that this was about the worst day in his life.
------------------
It took Cole the better of half an hour to return to where Mercer had attacked him. The Reapers had gotten more silent, were hidden from the walking genocide that was following him unseen. Which served him well for the moment- he didn't have much juice left and was bone tired, while his body had been busy trying to fix itself from the rough handling. Getting off that building had been the toughest part of the way, because he wasn't sure he'd survive simply jumping off. Luckily, he did find and drain a generator on the way here to supply himself with energy and close the wounds, so all that was left was his raging headache from the lack of electricity around.
After a bit of searching, he found his phone sitting in a corner of the roof. He ignored the warning tremor down his back when he heard a distant thud and the crack of concrete. He still picked the device up and called Moya. She needed to know he was still alive.
"Moya"
There was a sharp hiss at the other end. "Cole?"
"Yeah."
"What happened?"
Cole winced. He really wanted to tell her what happened, if only to spite that bastard, but his neck was crawling and his gut heaving. Mercer was still lurking somewhere, watching him. After their meeting, he wasn't so keen on pissing him off any more, not without having more power. "Got jumped", he said shortly. "Some sort of conduit, I guess."
"Cole. I had my guys look for you. You were nowhere to be seen."
"Guy could teleport, dragged me across the city before I knew what happened."
"Where is he now?"
"Dead", he answered, hoping she wouldn't pick up on the short falter in his voice. "Didn't go down easy, though."
"So that has been you", Moya mumbled. "I've seen the light show."
"Yeah. Guy got me good, though. Shoulder's a mess and I'm afraid I got a few broken ribs, but I'm okay otherwise." That wasn't even lying. His side was still rolling with pain, and his shoulder felt worse than it looked, mostly because his flesh had mended as he trekked back. Didn't meant it didn't hurt, though. "Needed a breather after that."
"Good", the woman commented, and Cole thought she actually sounded relieved. "You still up for the Substation?"
"Yeah. Might help getting my brain back to work", the courier shrugged. "I'll call you once I'm in the sewer." Plus he might get a shiny new power out of it. Anything to become stronger.
He clicked the phone off and fastened it against his shoulder, wincing as the sore flesh gave a sting of pain, before he quickly moved to where he wanted to go before he found himself so rudely interrupted.
He jogged along the street, trying his best to ignore the shadowy figure just a few blocks away. He glanced at the clock of a store to figure out it was around half past eleven now. He stifled a yawn. No wonder he felt so beat. Just that substation and then he would head back to Zeke. Probably wouldn't even shower.
He found the manhole Moya had marked for him before in the Southwestern part of the Neon, lifted it up and slipped inside a little faster than he did before. He just wanted to get out of the open.
He gagged at the smell of the sewage, but was almost willing to give it a pass. Mostly because there was electricity down here and he did feel marginally safer because Mercer couldn't lurk around on buildings to watch him.
He activated his phone. "Okay. I'm in."
"Same drill as before", Moya told him. "Re-establish the circuit on the underground transformer, and then look for the substation."
Cole nearly asked her whether she knew anything about Mercer though he swallowed it and just gave a confirmative grunt, especially when he heard a distant splashing sound. Could be the guy actually following him, could also be just a rat. He didn't want to risk it.
Like before, most of the catwalks had been torn down, and like before, there were many grimy pipes for him to hold onto. As he leapt against the first one, a voice in his head told him sternly to take a shower once he was done. And wash his clothes with bleach. Loads of bleach. Cole agreed with that little voice in his head, though he had to add that he would probably never be clean again.
He hopped along the pipes, then managed to drop onto the still-standing catwalk and move along there. This area was larger than the first, and Cole did wonder just whose brilliant idea it was to build the transformers and substations in such a hard-to-reach place. Even with the catwalks intact, it was anything but a walk in the park. Alone the smell.
He winced and pulled himself up on a pipe on the ceiling, and balanced over it. His lightning-coated arms allowed him to see some, but unlike a flashlight, he couldn't use it to check further away from his current position. He was pretty much moving blind.
Luckily the transformer announced itself with a bright blue glow.
He carefully made his way over there, and hesitated only shortly in front of the mighty machinery, before he jumped up and grabbed it, closing the circuit. His body convulsed when hundreds of thousands volts slammed right through him, frying and charging every single cell at the same time. Cole groaned, but didn't let go until the other side was working again.
He dropped to the floor, panting in pain. Like before, there was the feeling of being stronger after that overcharge, and like before, his fingertips tickled with unfamiliar powers.
He wondered what exactly that power was. Last time he got the ability to heal, to restrain, and to kill. He would probably figure the new ones out soon enough.
He headed away from the transformer, balancing across a pipe and headed towards a closed door. Cole frowned. The barred door lay askew and broken in the doorway, blocking it off. He inclined his head, wondering whether he could try to clear it. That would probably take a whole lot of time, though.
Maybe he could blast his way through? The Shockwave wasn't suited though, not with how wedged the rubble was.
So he stepped back, getting some distance between himself and the obstacle and charged himself up. The feeling from before returned, and Cole watched how the sparks along his arms started to collect in his flat palm, forming a small orb of energy. He frowned at it, feeling the energy radiating off it.
Maybe...
He hauled his arm back and threw the orb of crackling static at the obstacle. It bounced off the wall, stuck to the ground- and exploded in a shower of sparks and rubble.
The way was cleared. Cole blinked, before a grin split his face. Lightning Grenades. Cool. He could imagine it would make a real impression on whoever dared to attack him.
He headed towards the door, draining a fuse box for a good measure, when his phone rang.
It was Zeke again.
"Hey man", his best friend greeted him. "Everybody around here keeps carrying on about you delivering that bomb. Even George is runnin' his mouth about that."
Cole frowned, pausing. His boss was about the last one he ever thought would jump on the 'Cole is a terrorist' bandwagon. He was his boss, goddammit. He should know that Cole was a courier, because he paid him for moving parcels around. As it looked like, this entire day had been shit.
"Bastard", Cole growled. "He said I needed to beeline that blasted package." He snorted.
"Guess George's not gonna give you your paycheck then?"
"Was a terrible job in the first place", Cole muttered. "Pay sucked." He paused, frowning. "Did you know? I was supposed to meet the client in the Historic. He called me instead and told me to open the box. Next thing I knew was waking up in that crater."
"Well, at least you got superpowers out of it", Zeke commented. Cole imagined him shrugging. "And don't worry about George and those other idiots. I'll cover for ya, man. They're frickin' gossip queens anyways."
Cole allowed himself to snicker, before he remembered one thing. "Hey Zeke?"
"Yeah?"
"Could you-" Cole bit his tongue. He wanted to have his friend check out Manhattan and Mercer, but Moya was listening. But then she would realize Mercer was here, or why else should he want to know about what happened in Manhattan? He said that Empire was going to get destroyed then- Cole didn't trust the shapeshifting freak or anything he said, but he had enough brains to not throw his name around so carelessly. He and Zeke would talk later, so he just swallowed once and finished "Could you maybe prepare the washing machine and shower? I'm crawling around the sewers at the moment."
Zeke chuckled. "Got ya covered there too."
"Thanks."
He continued moving, rather undisturbed, until his senses screamed at him. He immediately crouched low and moved quickly behind a large pipe, glancing around it. Not the terrorist, thank God, but there were several turrets and Reapers. Just how did they get this stuff down here? Where did they have it from anyways?!
He scowled and fashioned a grenade, then lugged the first one from behind his cover at the first turret. It exploded in a glorious ball of fire, and once the courier was certain the others weren't immediately shooting, he threw two more grenades, taking out the other two turrets in a similar manner.
Frickin' Reapers!
He hurried past the obstacle and rushed along another catwalk, just in time to see another suicide Reaper snarl and run towards him, flailing his sticks of dynamite through the air.
And he was right in front of the substation. If he blew himself up here, then all would be for naught.
Cole scowled. He had to take that guy out before he could explode.
So he charged towards the guy, taking him by surprise. The Reaper snarled, but Cole was faster. He created a Shockwave and knocked him into the sewage beneath, wincing with a grimace at the wet Splorp it made. The Reaper growled enraged, but with the now wet torches, he couldn't do any harm. Cole aimed at the sewage and fired several bolts at it, watching how the lightning dissipated and fried everything around: Rats and the Reaper. The man fell face-first into the liquid.
Yuck.
Cole shook himself, then headed towards the substation and charged it up. He heard it hum when it went back online, then he turned and headed back to the manhole. He didn't want to go back out there, not to that clawed maniac, but he had to. He couldn't stay down here.
--------------------
When Cole climbed back out of the manhole, he took a very deep breath, hoping to banish the smell that still lingered in his nose. He could feel his back crawl again with the feeling of danger, but at the moment, the scent of fresh air was a lot more important. He snorted to try clearing his brain from the smell of sewage, playing already with the idea of simply frying his own nose to burn the smell out of it, but then figured if he was immune against lightning, his nose probably would too.
"Nice work, Cole", Moya congratulated him, "Though I am afraid I don't bear good news."
Cole frowned. "What did you find?"
"I figured out why the Reapers were destroying the water pipes under the bridge", she told him. Cole paused, pulling into an alleyway to avoid the pedestrians. He remembered the sledgehammer sticking out of that pipe. "They're isolating the city's water system", Moya explained, "So they can pump their plague into every home."
"What?!" Cole snapped, eyes wide with worry. This...plague- it already killed a lot of people. And now the Reapers were pumping it into the city's water supply?! This was a catastrophe!
Zeke! Trish!
He was moving before he was aware he did, latching onto a rainwater drain to scale a hotel's side, then hoisting his body across the roof edge. His shoulder didn't hurt anymore, and his side seemed to be numb and was no longer painful.
Cole growled angrily, racing across the had to make sure Trish was okay. Screw everything else!
"And it gets better", Moya continued. "I'm getting reports that Smith Fountain is already polluted, and there are a lot of casualties. Head over there and confirm my intel, then we'll figure out what to do."
Cole didn't to be told twice. He was in a all-out flat sprint as he charged across the buildings, ignoring the few remaining Reapers. He leapt on the train tracks and forced himself to go faster, cursing that right now he couldn't go fast enough. He could see the Smith Street below and jumped off, then hurried over to the Smith Fountain at the mouth of the Smith Park. He stopped, shoes skidding over the asphalt once he saw the entire extent of what happened.
"Not looking good, Moya", he informed her, carefully coming closer, "Sick people all over the place, the water in the fountain is black."
"All right. Get over there. We need to find a way to stop this."
Cole didn't hear her words, though, because in that moment he spied Trish and Christine crouching near a man on the ground. He hurried towards them. They both noticed his approach, though only the blonde nurse got up to greet him. Trish seemed to shy back, staring at Cole with wide eyes. Seeing her like that made his heart clench painfully. He didn't want her to be scared of him.
"Cole!" Christine called out, "What are you-" She paused, taking a double take of his appearance. "Man. You look like shit."
"I know", Cole sighed. He glanced at the blonde. "Zeke told me you're taking care of Trish now?"
"I do", she replied.
"Thanks" Cole moved towards Trish, crouching down in front of her. She flinched back, eyes roving across his body. He sighed, because he really looked like shit. His pants and shoes were stained, there were blood splatters all across his jacket. There were several bullet holes riddled around his torso, and the pads of the shoulder part of his jacket was a bloody mess, though the skin beneath was all okay again. "Look Trish", he tried to sound as soothing as possible. "I know what that guy said about me. I know Amy is dead because of me- but", he swallowed, "I didn't know what was in that package. Somebody set me up for this. For all of this."
He tapped at his phone. "I have proof."
Trish slowly shook her head, nodding to the sick people on the ground. "There is so much to do, Cole", she said silently, "We don't- don't have time."
Cole sighed, dropping his head. "Just tell me how to help."
"Start by closing that valve over there", Christine piped in, "It's jammed and we didn't manage to turn it on our own. It's how the black tar gets into the fountain."
Cole turned his head slightly, eying the thick pipe and the valve attached to it. He didn't even need time to decide, so he simply headed over and grabbed the wheel, feeling the sturdy metal beneath his hands. He strained his muscles as he tried to move it. It was jammed pretty hard, but that didn't deter him. He snarled as static electricity started to crackle across his body, and he heard the two nurses inhale sharply.
The valve made a creaking noise, then it started moving. Cole grunted as he spun it, hearing the sloshing on its inside being cut off. But then the pipes rattled violently, seconds before a black liquid sprayed out of the valve and hit Cole's face. The courier jerked back with a half-yell, half-swear.
He had the stuff all over his face, and he angrily wiped at it, trying to get it off.
"It's all over your eyes!" Trish yelped. Cole couldn't make her out, she was just a blurry figure against the fountain.
"There's a solvent in the car!" Christine cut in. "Get him there, Trish. I'll take care of things here!"
Cole grunted, trying to blink away the red glare that was taking his sight. Their voices were strangely distorted too. He struggled after Trish, trying to focus on her as black tentacles crawled at the edge of his vision, sending stabs of panic through his chest and hitching his breathing.
"I've been watching you, Cole. Waiting for this moment. Anticipating it", a woman's voice whispered. Cole whirled around, lightning around his arms because he did not know that voice. Where was she?! Three Reapers suddenly stood behind Trish, all of them towering over her by several feet. Cole gasped in panic and was about to zap them, when his brain lurched painfully and they vanished without a trace. He noticed Trish blur out of focus, but she seemed to stop and look at him. More, he couldn't tell. "Who's- doing this?" Cole groaned, swaying to the side.
"She hates you", the woman continued, whispering on the inside of his head, "Loathes you. Your power frightens her. She'll never love you."
Cole groaned, stumbling after Trish, who had headed into an alley, but stopped again to look at him, worried. "I can make you forget about her." The voice offered, and Cole's head threatened to split open. "Everything you shared- gone like a whisper. No more pain, no more heartache." Cole grit his teeth to block her out. Instead, he tried to focus on Trish, who was leading him to an ambulance. Four more Reapers blinked into existence for a short moment, watching him. Tentacles crawled across the floor, swallowing up the asphalt in sickening waves of red and black. Cole just barely managed to drag himself towards the ambulance, before he collapsed, hands pressed against his temples as he struggled to keep in control. Whatever this stuff was- it wrecked havoc on his senses.
He groaned, trying to focus on Trish. Trish looked worried, but then her face slipped out of his line of vision and was replaced for a small spray. "Hold still", she ordered and squeezed the trigger. Cole choked for a moment, but then the soothing spray cleaned out his eyes and calmed his raging headache. He waited for a few moments until his head didn't feel like somebody was taking a jackhammer to it, before he finally moved. With a groan, he struggled back upright. "Thanks"
Trish opened her mouth a few times, before she shook her head. "I have to get back", she said, pulling away. "I'm out of solvent, so if you get more of that stuff on your face- you have to wait until it wears off."
She moved away, and Cole remained where he was, rooted to the spot. His chest hurt as he slowly clicked the button of his phone. "I took care of the fountain, Moya. Had to shut off the feeder pipe that led into it."
"There are two more water mains in the area", Moya informed him. Cole sighed.
"Gotcha. I'll turn those off and see what happens."
He headed out of the parking lot and jogged across the street, then turned to move towards the park. He knew where those pipes where. One summer, he had wrenched one of them open to create an impromptu-water park. Of course, that ended with him getting a warning from the police and several hours of public duty.
He snorted, and found the first valve. Two Reapers tried to stop him, but he made short process with a few lightning bolts. Then, he grit his teeth and grabbed the valve, turning it shut.
Like before, the pipes burst again, coating him with tar once more. "Urgh- sonofa-" He grunted, stumbling away while trying to wipe as much as possible off his face.
"I feel your broken heart, Cole". Joy. The voice was back. Again. "So much emotion. Bottled up with nowhere to go. Why do you love her? She's beneath you. You deserve better."
That bitch had no idea. Trish had been with him forever already. "Shut up" Cole growled, trying to get as much of the stuff away from him as possible, wiping it off his chest and face as good as he could.
That was when he became aware of the white-hoodie-wearing Reaper conduit that appeared in front of him out of nowhere, snarling. He jerked back, arms going up on instinct, just as the guy started glowing.
Before either conduit could release their attack though, a black barbed wire broke through the Reaper's chest, killing him instantly. Cole froze, staring in shock when the Reaper collapsed and the...thing that killed him pulled back. His gaze followed the three braided bands to its origin. Then his heart stopped with a start and Cole stepped back. Alex Mercer. Less a threatening presence at the back of his head, but now in front of him, pale eyes narrowed and one arm mutated into a monstrous claw.
His entire body switched on high alert, lightning lashing out of his skin and crackling across his surface in preparation. Could he take him? (hah, most likely he'll end up a stain on the grass). Would he go after Trish, because he found Cole unsatisfactory?
Mercer tilted his head slightly, the focus of his unnatural eyes pinning the courier to the spot, sending cold waves of terror down his back. Why was he here?
"You're all alone, you know", the voice whispered, but with his nerves frayed as they were, he jerked back with a swear, body curling slightly into a defensive position. "No one cares about you. Not the girl. Not the fat man on the roof. Not the woman under the bridge. Only I love you. I've always loved you, Cole. Always and forever."
"For God's sake, get out!" Cole snapped, as his eyes found the larger threat across from him again. Mercer wasn't moving, but his gaze focused on Cole. Then his expression shifted, turned almost...thoughtful. And pissed, though not at the courier (at least he hoped so).
The piercing gaze was gone suddenly, the terrorist had turned away, muttering under his breath much too fast for Cole to catch anything he said. Was he even speaking English? But then the tone shifted, and he could understand at least some of the words.
"Auditory hallucinations. Visual too?" The courier flinched when the man glanced at him briefly. "Possibly. Drives the people mad. Caused through what?" He eyed Cole again, eyes narrowing- not malicious but rather...researching? Then he turned, glaring at the valve and the black ooze dripping from it instead.
"The tar", he growled, grabbing the valve and twisting it shut one-handed. Like before, the tar sprayed out of the pipes and hit the terrorist fully- but unlike Cole the man didn't even react. Instead, he glanced down at his chest, seconds before shadows skipped across his surface and removed the black liquid, leaving the man no worse for wear. Instead, he just continued to ramble on, obviously having forgotten about Cole.
"In the water. Poisons the humans. Short contact induces madness. Prolonged exposure... corrodes the cerebral matter?" He scowled. "Too dangerous to leave unchecked."
And suddenly his stance changed. Back to aggressive within the blink of an eye. For a split moment, Cole actually wondered whether that guy was bi-polar, but then he dropped into a protective stance, lightning sparking across his surface to try and fend the other off.
"Where does it come from?" He growled. "The tar."
The water main. Cole's eyes narrowed in realization. The Reapers probably didn't have access to the water supply as it was over in the Historic District. The situation here was local, which meant that they got this crap into the pipes by other means.
And he did remember from his earliest days as urban explorer that there was a large main pipe just in the car tunnels beneath the park.
He spun around and rushed towards the closest street, flinching violently when he heard a loud growl from the terrorist behind him. A warning sound- he had seen him kill a bunch of Reapers with barely anything more than the flick of his wrist, so this was probably supposed to stop him by intimidation.
Yeah, shame Cole wasn't going to be intimidated that easily (okay, that was a lie- he was scared out of his wits, but the prospect of losing Trish to those bastard Reapers was far more terrifying, so he just swallowed it). Instead, he tried to focus on any sounds from behind him, hearing a deep sigh followed by the hollow crack of concrete- and flung his body to the side and off the upper levels to get to the entrance of the tunnel and avoid the missile made of flesh, spikes and bad mood that just shot at his back.
He hit the ground hard, having had barely any time to stabilize his position, and that rattled his brain, easing up on the mental hold he tried to keep on the voice.
"You won't be able to shut me out forever", the woman drawled, obviously having noticed the lack of focus. "Eventually, a crack will appear and that crack will spread and grow larger- and then the wall comes down. It's only a matter of time." Cole snarled and tried to force her back, hearing the loud and threatening crack of the terrorist landing himself. Too close for comfort, but fear was an excellent motivator. "You don't know love. Not true love. But I will teach you. And then that bastard will see what he lost."
The courier shook his head and dashed towards the tunnel, trying to shake her voice.
He didn't get very far when something grabbed him and dragged him backwards- powerful like a steel band and composed of raw muscles. The courier snarled, winding to free himself, when he was let go of and became aware of shooting. Three seconds later and the shooting was cut off by the wet sound of flesh tearing.
"You shouldn't be running around", a dark voice told him. "And you shouldn't run from me." Cole's only reply was a hiss when his vision seemed to clear. He hadn't even noticed it was fogged over, having been too focused on keeping the voice out and away from the terrorist.
But then he realized that he was currently standing behind the terrorist, while several torn-apart Reapers decorated the asphalt to the front. Mercer had yanked him back and assaulted the Reapers, protecting him in the process. Why?
The guy just stood there, watching him with those unsettling eyes. He said he was going to watch him. So what? Was he scared he'd bail on him? Check up on his investment? Why the Hell would he even care about him when before he had no problem to manhandle him violently enough to cause injuries that would have taken down normal humans?
The courier scowled at the other man, realizing that right now, he didn't seem to be in any danger. No, instead Mercer had downright coddled him- had made sure that the Reapers wouldn't have been able to shoot him (despite the bullets probably having snapped him out of his merry head-trip).
It pissed him off to no end. The realization that this bastard was toying with him, stalking him- and then having the nerve to ignore him and his powers and belittle him by playing the powerful savior.
He hissed hatefully and shoved hard against the man (nearly straining his wrist and only gaining a wry smirk in return) to march past him, heading into the underpass. He didn't want anything to do with that terrorist, because that guy was just so full of himself and ignorant to others, it made him sick. Plus, he couldn't even need more bad publicity.
He vaulted over a barricade and headed inside the tunnel to take out his anger on the Reapers he could still hear and sense there, when he heard a heavy step behind him, and the feeling of fear let an icy shower run down his back. He wasn't going to let it stop him, though. Instead, he barked enraged "Either kill me or leave me alone, but stop following me!"
"I won't do either", was the reply, and in the underground Mercer's dark voice seemed to be even deeper, able to rattle his bones. "But until now, you've proved yourself to be an amusing distraction. So I'm just making sure you won't get yourself killed. That would suck."
"Screw you!" Cole snapped, lightning snapping out of his hand and shooting right at the terrorist's head- but the massive blade had been formed in an instant, was already present before he had turned around- and the charge was conducted harmlessly into the ground. Then a Reaper fired at him and the courier was forced to whip around and take him out, then dive behind a derelict car to avoid another barrage of bullets.
"You're getting distracted. Get your shit together."
"Whose fault is this?!" The courier snapped, spinning around to blast a shockwave into the cars to send them careening into Mercer. The man easily avoided it, literally punching them to the side with the arm that was not a massive sword at the moment.
Cole grunted as his vision suddenly blurred, making four ten-foot Reapers appear in front of him. The courier hissed and unleashed several powerful bolts into their direction, causing the illusions to vanish- but something was making his headache worse. He assumed he was getting very close to the source of the tar, but that in return screwed with his head.
More apparitions blinked into reality, forcing him to roll to the side to avoid them. He didn't pay Mercer any attention, though he did feel the black whip whistle over his head and split apart another group of Reapers that tried to ambush them. Their bodies hit the ground in bloody heaps.
Cole swore at the sight of more of them approach him, guns held in trigger-happy hands. He lugged a grenade over, scattering them into every direction to quickly pick them off while they were distracted.
Then he became aware of the idling of an engine, and recognized a massive road tanker down the street, attached to the water main by several pipes.
"The source of the plague", Cole growled. The Reapers had cobbled all of this together to poison the people of Empire with their tar. He couldn't let them- he created a grenade in his hand, intending to aim for the gas tank in hopes to blow the vehicle up.
But then he became aware of an hateful snarl and the sound of something rubbing against each other, like something moving through dry grass, and he unwillingly turned around.
Mercer's head was lowered, but his teeth were bared in an enraged snarl, while his claws had come back into existence. Cole immediately leapt backwards, grenade fizzling out in his palm as he tried to duck into a more defensive position- but the terrorist didn't even acknowledge him. Instead, he dropped to one knee, jabbed the talon into the ground and forced giant spikes out from the street just beneath the tanker to shred it to pieces. Its gas tank was pierced, and the liquid flooding the street was quickly ignited by the various burning vehicles. The entire tanker exploded in a massive ball of fire. Cole swore and flopped flat to the ground, feeling the superheated air rush over him.
"What was that?!" Moya asked.
"Found a tanker", Cole grumbled, "Pumping black tar into the water supplies. It's gone now."
"Really?", Moya paused for a moment. "The tar causing you trouble?"
"Some", Cole grunted.
"Some", the FBI agent deadpanned. "You've been talking to yourself the entire time. Like you were arguing with somebody."
Cole's eyes widened and he whipped around, staring at Mercer. He still stood there, still in an aggressive stance, though for now seemed to have calmed down again. Instead, he was nudging a piece of burnt wreckage with his foot. He was real, not just a hallucination. And then his head lifted and he glanced at Cole.
"I'm speaking with a pitch your phone can't capture, though you can still hear it- your senses have improved", he answered without Cole asking. "We don't want her to ask questions, now do we?"
He spun around and marched out of the tunnel. "There's still something left for me to do, but don't get any ideas. I will learn of it if you even attempt to contact Moya or anybody else. Keep your mouth shut, and we won't have problems with each other."
And then he left him alone. For now, anyways.
Cole groaned pained. "Holy shit."
"You sound off", Moya noticed. "You should get some rest."
"Yeah", the courier grunted. "Sounds like a good idea. I'm heading back to Zeke. My head's killing me."
He glanced back, watching Mercer's retreating back, before he headed off into the opposite direction. He really needed some sleep. Between crawling around in sewers, being blown up way too often, meeting the goddamn Terrorist of Manhattan himself, being manhandled by said terrorist and crawling through more sewers only to get mind-raped by some black tar, this evening was more than enough to make him drop into his bed and sleep the next few weeks away. Or hide until everything was over.
He moved out of the tunnel and headed northwards.
--------------------
Alex sat crouched on top of a low building, watching the courier head home. He was intrigued, in a way. His powers were interesting, and he wondered whether he could copy them. He wouldn't outright consume him, though. He had his rules, and one of them was to not mess up the good guys. So far, the courier hadn't given him any excuse to feed off him, with the exception of their brief scuffle earlier- which was, incidentally, the reason he was so interested in him.
He was going to stick around, make sure the guy wasn't going to let anything slip. Plus, he figured, if he kept close to him, he might get the chance to get Moya Jones, or somebody who knew about her. Somebody who could get him close to her.
But...he glanced at the people down there, maybe he should start with figuring out how to get those powers first. He'd seen a few of those Reapers being able to teleport and create shockwaves, had even been hit by some. He wondered whether he could get them. Teleportation, in particular, sounded useful.
Though first things first- he headed back to the Smith fountain. The sick people had been brought to one of the clinics, and nobody else was around anyways. The black water gurgled slowly in its basin. The tar was organic, and highly toxic to humans. To him, however...
Alex scowled deep. The things he did for Dana...
He plunged both hands into the sludge, grimacing as his biological makeup recoiled from it. He paid it no attention, though. Water didn't harm him- he just didn't like it.
Tendrils coiled out of his arms, crawling throughout the whole polluted water, squirming from the contact. Alex snarled and focused, then began consuming anything that was organic. Algae, insects, the tar...He devoured it all, swallowed it into his own Biomass and left clear water behind. He grunted at the sensation of the tar starting to eat away at him, but that feeling quickly faded as soon he had broken the stuff down into its basic components.
He dusted his hands off and turned towards the Neon. Those white-hooded Reapers- they had powers. He was going to try and figure out whether he could copy them.