When Cole returned to their apartment, he didn't have any strength left other than to peel his clothes away and drop into bed. True sleep didn't come to him, though. With the silence around him, the screams inside his head were only louder, roaring in his ears.
Fire was flashing through his mind, both from the visions he'd seen and the things he experienced. He felt the bite of bullets over and over and over again, heard snarls and shouts and screams. Sasha was lurking in a corner, taunting him. There were people, turning into Reapers, civilians dying in the streets.
Cole jerked up with a hoarse yell, lightning arching around him to defend him if necessary.
But he was alone. His heart was still hammering against his chest, even as he leaned back and draped one arm over his face, inhaling deeply in hopes to banish the remnants of his nightmare from his brain.
All of this- it was just too much. The world around him was dying and he was the only one who was supposed to do something. But what? Seriously, weren't there some people out there whose job it was to pretend the world from ending? Like the god-damned army?!
Cole didn't want to be the one who everybody else was depending on. He was a quitter, damn it- he quit College instead of standing up to the teachers who screwed Zeke over, he quit talking to his parents instead of trying to tell them that this was his life, not theirs. Cole was used to do things the easy way- just walk away and pretend this never happened, pick up his life and continue. But now he couldn't. He couldn't just walk away. He had started going down a street already, and that street was strictly one-way. No way out. All he could do was continue- or die trying.
And he sure as Hell did not want to die. So all that was left was to keep on walking, clawing his way through God knows how many people he had to kill and who wanted to kill him, no matter what was going to happen.
Zeke wouldn't understand. No matter how much Cole loved that guy like a brother, he was also a complete and utter idiot. All he saw were shiny superpowers, but not the baggage attached to them. He didn't know how hard it was to suddenly find himself at the center of this entire mess. Cole didn't actually want to solve this- he just wanted to be safe with Trish and Zeke, screw everybody else. But he couldn't just leave Empire behind. It was his fault all of this happened, so it was him who had to figure out how to end this.
And hopefully walk away after that.
Seriously, all of this was rapidly growing over his head. Superpowers, conduits, DARPA, Sasha, Alden, Kessler, Mercer, Moya, electrical powers- he was a frickin' bicycle courier, for God's sake!
His head swam, but trying to sleep wasn't going to help. Cole growled and sat up, then moved out of his bedroom and walked into the living room, grabbing a bottle of Zeke's home-brewed ale while at it. He was not going to face this entire mess sober.
--------------
Four hours later and Cole was only slightly buzzed. He glared angrily at the collection of empty bottles strewn about on the table. Either this stuff was defect, or it didn't work on his superhuman ass anymore.
The other bedroom door opened and Zeke approached him, scratching his stomach. "Morn' Cole", he greeted with a yawn. He paused, eying the bottles. "Uh, not gonna ask- but are you tryin' to get drunk at..." He glanced at the clock on the wall, "Half past six in the morn'?"
"Trying being the operative word", the courier replied darkly. "Couldn't sleep. Figured if I drink enough I pass out at least." His expression darkened. "Got to pee the entire time and am only a bit light-headed."
"Cool", Zeke said, "You can't get wasted. Awesome."
"Right now I wish I could", Cole ground out.
Zeke blinked. "Why? This is awesome! This whole superhero racket, Cole!" He ticked off his fingers. "Solvin' crimes, gettin' some lovin' from the ladies,..." He leaned back, dreamy expression on his face. "I could get used livin' like this."
Cole furrowed his brows. "You're not actually a superhero, Zeke." He grumbled. "Neither am I."
"Hell, I know that", his roommate replied, "But it doesn't change the fact that I've had a taste of the good life."
"Having these powers isn't exactly a walk in the park", the courier snorted. "I have been getting shot at and blown up. I got doused with a mind-controlling tar. A mentally unbalanced woman was trying to rape me while trying to drown me in said tar. I got an entire tunnel thrown at my head, God damnit!" He paused with a deep scowl. "I can't even take a bath without exploding! I'd be better off without them." The last one had been added as an afterthought. Cole would gladly trade his powers to turn back time so nothing would have happened, but now he had them- and he wasn't fond of the idea of giving them up just like that. He would, if it would be for the best.
Zeke gaped. "Are you crazy? People around here, they worship you, man!"
"Fat lot of good it's done me", the courier ground out, thinking back to how disgusted he felt when those people at the train thanked him. He fiddled with an empty bottle. "Ever since Archer Square, my head hadn't been silent once", he muttered. "I had bad dreams, and after meeting the real terrorist, Kessler, I only had nightmares. I murdered a ton of people just to survive." He paused, then added a bit more silently: "I made a deal with the Devil too."
"Wow, man. Don't sound so gloom", Zeke grinned.
Cole grumbled, then eyed the clock, and, unwilling to continue down that thread, changed the topic "Since when do you get up before noon?"
"Ah, well", his roommate fidgeted. "Well, I met with Dwight's sister, and thought I'd score. But nada."
"She shot you down."
"Without me ever gettin' a chance."
"I told you, you are not what women want, Zeke. You are an idiot- and that repels others."
"Not you though"
"I am already used to it", Cole got up from the table. "Sitting around won't do any good though. I'll head back outside, check out the Warren."
He went into his room and picked up a fresh shirt and jacket. His old one could maybe still be used as a washing rag, but it was no longer in wearable conditions. Cole figured he'd be sacrificing a lot more jackets until this entire mess was over.
He secured his bag and headed to the roof, ringing up Moya. As expected, she was already awake. Only added to his suspicion that she didn't sleep ever.
"Hey Moya", he greeted her, "I'm making a run on the next substation."
"It's location is flagged on your GPS", the DARPA agent masquerading as FBI told him. "I'm also tracking a couple of new developments. I'll be in touch once the power is back on." She ended the call. Cole did not really like her ordering him around, but until now all he got through this had been more powers. So he was willing to let it slip.
He threw his body off the roof, and created his thrusters to soar over to the train tracks, to slide along them to head over to the Warren. The drawbridge was lowered and there was a thick high-voltage cable suspended between the sides, so it was easy crossing over. There were a lot of people along the bridge, staring at him as he zipped past. Cole had no desire to talk to any of them- he was going to put the energy back online to get more powers out of it. Screw the people.
He hopped off the wire and headed deeper into the Warren, passing by the massive prison complex. He was careful and quickly headed on top of an apartment building- the Dustmen were incredibly dangerous. Maybe even more so than the Reapers. Cole had no desire to constantly battle them, especially not when currently heading into an area without any electricity.
He paused, watching a group of Dustmen below. They were yelling at each other, fingers trembling at the triggers of their rifles. Yesterday they seemed like they could work together well, but now they were trying their best to not stay any closer to any other.
As if they didn't trust the others to not turn on them. Cole wondered briefly about this, when he realized that this sort of paranoia might be actually helpful.
He grinned evilly and ducked low, then grabbed a loose piece of rubble. He aimed at one of the Dustmen and chucked the rock with all his strength, hitting the guy in the back.
The man whirled around, ripping his gun up. "What the fuck, man!" He shouted, fingers trembling.
"What's your problem?!" Another yelled back.
"Did you just shove me?!"
"The fuck I did!"
Cole watched how the four Dustmen down there started arguing loudly, neither believing the other's story, before they started to turn violent. The courier inhaled sharply as one started shooting at his buddies, who opened fire on their side. When the dust settled, all four of them were dead.
"Holy shit", Cole muttered. "That was...evil"
He got up and shook his head. These guys were so incredibly paranoid, that they shot each other, instead of looking for whoever was responsible. Just what in the world could have made them so afraid of each other? He wondered about it for a moment until he realized that he didn't really care. Because right now, he now had a way to deal with those brain dead idiots without having to reveal himself, as plain mean as it was.
He swung himself over an AC unit and headed further West, into the powerless area. He headed by a large screen that was still running. It showed the USTV news, and the anchor woman claimed that the president was making a surprise visit to Empire City, to congratulate the army for making the city safe. Cole snorted displeased. Sure. Army.
The only military presence he could see were the guns the gangs used, other than that there wasn't a single shred of uniform nearby.
He grit his teeth when his head started to hurt. He had crossed into the blackout, and his body quickly began to weaken. There was no juice around, and, unlike in the Neon, there weren't any working generators either. He dropped to the ground to avoid stumbling off the roof. He had to hurry to find the substation- sewers or not, at least down there was energy for him to take.
Cole blinked to try clearing his vision, and neglected to realize he just ran into trouble. Five Dustmen whipped around and glared at him.
"That's the guy!" One shouted, "The fucking freak!"
Shit.
Cole flung his body to the side and behind a parked car, praying that none of these idiots had anything larger than an assault rifle. They approached him, trying to take him out, but they did so by charging towards the car in a straight line.
He braced himself against the ground and flung both arms out, smacking the car with his shockwave. The vehicle was send flying, and, according to the startled screams, he must have bowled over at least one of these bastards. The courier dove to the side, then whipped around and lunged at the closest of the Dustmen. He noticed he had smashed two with the car, making the others break away in panic. The single guy he assaulted tried to throw an uppercut into his direction, but Cole easily side-stepped and seized the guy from behind, locking his arms behind him to bodily turn him between himself and the other two, who started shooting.
Cole ducked behind his meat shield, waiting for the shots to taper off, before he dropped the body and started to circle around the other two. They shouted, tried to target him again, but the courier was simply faster. He lined up one hand with them and shot a lightning bolt, hitting one of them square in the face. The man yelled and toppled back, giving Cole enough time to pounce on the other one. It wasn't that he enjoyed killing- but Dustmen did deserve it, after all. So he drained the guy, waited for him to stop twitching before he glared at the one he just downed.
The man was swearing, squirming on the ground. Technically, he could help him. Fix his wounds, or maybe pin him for the cops (if there still were any) to find. But Cole only felt anger boil through his body. Dustmen didn't deserve a shred of mercy. Not when they were happily murdering their way through the Warren. So he lifted his foot and stomped down on the guy's neck, crushing trachea and spine. Bastard had it coming, after all.
Cole snorted and headed out of the parking lot, throwing a glance at another group of Dustmen, who had approached him while fighting. They didn't come any closer, fear rooting them to the ground. They were afraid of him, and for good reason.
The courier glared at them, before lightning lashed out of his arms and he stomped the ground, doing his best to look like somebody who didn't give a solid damn about any casualties. The Dustmen scrambled away in panic, leaving Cole unharmed. He grunted darkly, then turned around and headed over to a manhole cover. According to Moya, this was the location he needed to be. He opened it easily and jumped down.
Zeke called as Cole jumped and soared over the damaged catwalks.
"So I was walkin' over to Trish." He started, "Help loading up her bus, when I see Dwight's sister hangin' on some other guy's arm. Didn't even look at me."
Cole knew he should feel sorry for his roommate, but he just couldn't. So his 'Sorry, man' didn't sound sorry at all.
Zeke didn't seem to notice it, though what he said made Cole more alert. Trish was loading up a bus, so she was serious about heading over to the Bayview, then? The place was dangerous.
"Zeke?" He asked, "Could you do me a favor?"
"Anything, man"
"Can you check up on Trish? Make sure she doesn't do anything stupid like heading over to the Bayview without any sort of guard?"
"Sure man, can do."
"Thanks. Tell her I'll hurry up and get over to her to make sure they get through unhindered."
"Yeah"
"Thanks."
He shut his phone off and headed over to the transformer, jumping up and closing the circuit without any second thoughts. The voltage burned through him again, filling up his reserves and unlocking new powers. He could feel it roll through his body in waves, and this feeling remained even after he let go of the restarted transformer.
Motion further down the sewer caught his attention. He glanced at it, recognizing a single Dustman, who was partially hidden behind a chain link fence. He was too far away for Cole to zap and the fence would probably allow for adequate cover as it would dissipate the charge, but with the sniper shot he could get him. He focused for a moment, then threw his hand to the front. Instead of the precise lightning bolt, he created a large orb of energy that shot across through the air. It was slower than his normal bolts, but as he watched it soar in a straight line towards his target, he realized that this thing easily passed through the chain link fence and utterly fried the Dustman, knocking him out.
Cole grinned. Explosive ball lightning. Cool.
He continued his way, frying a few more Dustmen, until one of them actually tried to dive to the side and avoid the orb of crackling static. Cole growled and aimed his hand again, trying to zap him again- when the ball lightning suddenly changed its trajectory and slammed into the guy from the side.
The courier stared for a moment, before his grin widened. Explosive, steerable ball lightnings. He was pretty sure he might just love these things.
However, even with his new power, the sewer was anything but secure. Dustmen lurked everywhere, and unlike the Reapers, they didn't helpfully announce their presence with growls. He had to rely on his radar senses for this one. It wasn't too problematic, though. Just a little increase in difficulty to increase his own abilities. And more power was always preferable.
He found the substation and charged it up, watching how it came to life.
Cole headed back to the surface.
-----------
The Dustman was thrashing, whimpering in fear and pleading for his life. Pleas that only met apathy. Alex had heard it so often, had felt the heart rate of his victims spike each time he had his way with them. It was easy pinning them down and consume them, ignoring their screams and attempts at freeing themselves.
The regret about what he'd done only came after consuming, and only when he accidentally got the wrong person or when somebody was watching he didn't want to know. But most of the time, all Alex felt was satisfaction. Of being whole again, of learning what he needed to know.
And this guy here had just told him a lot.
Alex had managed to pin down the exact genetic code that made this guy a conduit, and it was exactly the same kind that also coded for the Reaper conduit's abilities. However, as it was, it made no great difference to Blacklight. It was a single gene, only a few dozen bases, and alone it didn't mean anything to him. On its own it wasn't much more than trash, and Blacklight didn't operate on trash. His constant adapting and streamlining of his own genetic code removed anything that had no use to him, including the conduit gene. He had tried it, a few times, to actively keep it in his own coding, had even changed into the original owner and tried to copy the entire genetic code, but he didn't manage to activate teleportation or telekinesis. Bummer, he really wanted to be able to move things with his mind. But maybe...maybe there was a trigger in the man's life that allowed him to gain his powers.
The blast that allowed MacGrath to gain his abilities- was it responsible for the Dustman's too? That was easy to answer, all Alex had to do was delve into his memories and find out when exactly he gained his powers.
His name was of no great importance, but his history, especially the last three weeks, were interesting. He had lived on the streets, until the day of the Blast. After that, the old man who had been on the street forever, Alden Tate, approached him and the others, displaying terrifying telekinetic powers- and took them in. Six days after the blast and the Dustman started exhibiting telekinetic powers himself.
Alex frowned. He assumed that the blast itself activated the powers of the conduits, but now it appeared as if this one Dustman Conduit had gained his abilities nearly a week after the event.
However...He inclined his head, eyes blank as he searched through his memories for those of another Dustman conduit. This guy too had gained his powers days after the blast that activated the courier as conduit.
Was there a difference between the three of them?
Definitely. First of all, there was the time difference. MacGrath and Tate both exhibited powers almost immediately after the blast, and Alex assumed this was also the case with this Sasha.
Second, while the Dustmen and Reaper conduits were quite tougher than normal humans, they still weren't as tough as MacGrath. And that meant they were far less powerful.
Third, the courier displayed a wide variety of powers, all of them similar in nature, but different in execution, while the Reapers and Dustmen only had one or two variations. Alex assumed that either the Dustmen and Reapers lacked in imagination, or their abilities had been restricted from the beginning.
Which brought him to number four: Alex hadn't seen any other conduit having the same powers as MacGrath had. He also hadn't noticed any more spread of the tar since Sasha had been taken out, meaning that both of them were unique. However, the other conduits running about, all of them had the same powers- every Reaper conduit could teleport and create shockwaves, while every Dustman conduit had telekinetic abilities...
Alex's eyes narrowed. The Dustmen had telekinetic powers...just like Alden Tate, only not on his level.
He turned around, glaring at the roofs of the Warren. He already had an idea, though he needed more information to clarify this. Point number five still eluded him, but he knew how to remedy that. The courier just had to play along.
The Blacklight Runner headed over to the Stone Canal Drawbridge, which was already in use. Most people tried to leave the Warren, but he saw some of the militia he helped build up and some of the remaining cops heading into the slums, to take care of the Dustmen. It appeared he had been wrong about humans then- sometimes they did think of others and weren't just cowering in the shade. Or maybe they've seen that the gangs controlling their lives weren't all powerful and could be beaten back. This wasn't Manhattan- their foes were human. Humans could be fought and driven back if people just got their act together. Humans were fragile, after all.
Alex's nose twitched and his brows drew together, his train of thought forgotten for now.
The sharp smell of ozone assaulted his senses- there was only one reason for it. The courier was already about and had passed across the bridge not too long ago. All the Runner had to do was to follow the scent. It lead in a straight line towards the north-western area of the Warren, varying in intensity at some parts. This area still without electricity, though he was certain it would no longer be. After all, from what he'd seen, Moya had used MacGrath to re-activate the underground substations. He had been successful with the Neon and was already working on the Warren- he only needed to find his point of entrance and wait for him to come back up.
Alex landed atop a derelict apartment building and pushed off in one, fluent motion. The windows still rattled from the power of his impact, and some of the plaster had come off, but nobody ever seemed to notice.
Better for him, because the night before he had revealed a bit too much of himself. These kind of things weren't all too helpful if one was actually trying to hide, but he just couldn't say 'no'. That would have been a dick move and Alex wasn't the one to let others down. Especially not if they asked him to help, and not when he was actively trying to make others into allies. Cross had sacrificed a lot of men and tech to him and gave him information in order to gain his trust. He had learnt from this, and getting the courier to trust him meant he had to feed him what he wanted along with demonstrating that he was not, in fact, as much of a jerk as he made himself to be.
In the end everything worked out fine and he felt a lot better after having been able to crush Reapers and Dustmen without having to watch his back.
Alex dug his heels into the roof he was one, skidding to a stop. The massive billboard in front of him just came to life. He threw a glance over his shoulder, realizing that all over the place the electricity went back online. MacGrath's work, no doubt. He did work quite fast.
The Runner inhaled the air, picking up the trail of ozone before heading down to the street. He quickly made his way over to the manhole cover that smelt most of the courier, careful to not leave behind a trail of potholes, when the cover already slipped open. Alex stopped, just in time to see MacGrath climb out of the sewer to stretch and inhale the fresh air. He couldn't blame him. The smell of sewage that still clung to the courier made his nose scrunch up in distaste- and Alex did have a keener sense than most other living beings. But, unlike those, he was also able to deconstruct his own olfactory sensors and disable his sense of smell. It was a trick he learnt in Manhattan while hunting for Redlight. The infection had retreated into the sewers and steam tunnels beneath the city- and Alex had chased it down.
He cleared his throat, announcing his presence. The courier turned around, blinking for a second to work his brain, before he exhaled in annoyance. Alex didn't let him speak, but rather just held out his hand, palm up and flexing his fingers. 'Hand your phone over'.
MacGrath scowled, but complied anyways. He plucked his phone off the strap of his bag and dropped it into Alex's hand. The Runner shoved it into the pockets of his jeans, dragging it into his Biomass once out of sight to smother any and all sounds from the outside.
MacGrath scowled, but complied anyways. He plucked his phone off the strap of his bag and dropped it into Alex's hand. The Runner shoved it into the pockets of his jeans, dragging it into his Biomass once out of sight to smother any and all sounds from the outside.
"What do you want?" MacGrath wanted to know.
"Information", Alex replied coolly, gesturing for the other to follow him away from the street. "I am trying to figure those conduit abilities out", he added, which gained him the courier's full attention.
"And what have you discovered?"
"All in time, MacGrath", the Runner pointed out. "First, answer me a question. What kind of powers did Sasha have?"
The courier frowned for a moment. "Just that? Uh" He scratched the back of his head. "She produced that tar. Like, it was rushing through her body. Guess it replaced her blood or something."
Alex paused. "So that's where the stuff came from." He inclined his head. "What else?"
The courier shrugged. "She could teleport around, as long she had contact to the tar. Create tentacles that had weird orbs atop them, hallucinations, shockwaves..."
The Runner frowned. "Teleportation and shockwaves- like her Reaper conduits?"
The courier's brows arched up slightly. "Yeah. I thought this was weird, but then assumed that shockwaves and teleportation were pretty common. I mean, I can create shockwaves too, and Kessler was able to teleport."
"Kessler?" Alex cut him off. "He's a conduit too?"
"Guess so", MacGrath grumbled with a dark expression. "Though that means that suddenly everybody is a frickin' conduit. 'cept Zeke maybe."
"I don't think it's that easy", Alex denied that notion.
"No?"
"Look- I'll need something from you", he tried to reason. "Something you'd probably not give me just like that if I ask."
The courier inhaled sharply and glanced over his shoulder, glaring at the dirty walls and dumpsters around, before he turned towards him with a scowl. "Look, man. If you want to kill me, I'm going to kick your ass so hard you'll won't ever feel anything other than pain again." He paused, expression twisting into something even darker. "And there's no chance I'm gonna bend over for you, hear me?"
"Blood", Alex cut him off exaggerated. "I need a bit of blood."
The courier blinked in confusion, but also relief. "What for?"
"My abilities", the Runner explained, he was aware he had to share his secrets with the other man sooner or later, though until now the guy didn't need to know too much. However, he had to throw the guy a bone to smother the curiosity. "Part of them are to figure out the genetic structure. I want to know what makes you different from those conduits running around. And for that, I'll need a sample of your DNA."
The courier furrowed his brows. "That's it?"
"You'll just hold still. It shouldn't hurt too much."
"I'm not convinced", MacGrath grumbled, though he was still taking off one glove and rolled up his sleeve. "Don't rip off my arm, or I will murder you."
Alex's lips twitched upwards, as he changed one hand into his massive claw. "You're still playing along."
"Yeah. I have a shit-load of questions myself, and you're probably the only one willing to give me answers."
Alex grunted in acknowledgment, then carefully dragged his metal nails across the courier's palm, easily slicing through his skin. The courier winced, but didn't pull his hand away to let him finish.
He did jerk back his hand once Alex let got of him, cradling it against his chest. Lightning lashed out of his skin, knitting the wound back together, while Alex inspected the trail of red along his talons. Tendrils rose from his skin, licking up the blood, much to the surprise of the courier. The Runner focused on the new batch of genetic information, changing his hand back into its normal shape.
That, that was exactly what he needed.
MacGrath's DNA wasn't too different from any other human, but there was a large change in his so-called 'junk' DNA. The conduit gene he had isolated from the Reapers and Dustmen was different in the courier. Cole's was larger, containing more bases. But, after a short test, it was still not suited for Alex to generate his own lightning, even after adding it to his genetic code. Instead, it just settled in along with the hundreds of other mutations he had collected already. He could figure out the reason later.
"And?" The courier asked carefully, eyes on the tendrils flicking lazily over Alex's body.
"Now I know that you are different to those other conduits", the Runner explained.
"In how far?" The other was curious. Alex did understand him, because now there was someone who finally could give him some insight on what was going on. He briefly wished he had somebody like that back in Manhattan, but all he had were more questions and a fuck-load of idiots trying to kill him.
"You and those Reapers and Dustmen- you have what Moya calls a 'conduit gene'."
"She told me that much." MacGrath answered. "Though...she was surprised when I told her about meeting the first Reaper Conduit."
"That's because you have additional bases to your conduit gene, bases the others are missing. The larger amount of those bases are also the reason they could figure you were a conduit, and not the others. The current detection possibilities are restricted, after all."
"What?" MacGrath frowned. "Moya did mention something of the kind..." He paused, expression turning into a confused scowl. "Wait, you want to tell me I'm the freak amongst freaks?"
"Not really. You are...more of a prime conduit", Alex explained. "You are a superior specimen, compared to those lesser conduits." He crossed his arms, glancing at the courier. "Didn't you wonder just why there is no-one else around having your electrokinetic powers? Or Sasha's tar-based powers?"
"I did", Cole frowned. His eyes widened slightly. "Wait. Sasha and the Reapers...they have shockwave-based powers, and teleport powers." He locked gazes with Alex. "Alden, do you know what he can do?"
"Telekinesis", Alex explained. MacGrath nodded, eyebrows drawing together.
"His conduits can move things with their minds too...does that mean that...these lesser conduits are depending on a supreme conduit's powers?"
The Runner smirked. "That is exactly what I thought." He pointed at the courier. "You, Alden, Sasha. You have gotten your powers from the blast. And only you. However, days later the other conduits started to display theirs, but only after having grouped together with Alden and/or Sasha. And that means, closer vicinity to a prime conduit allows lesser conduits to 'inherit' some of their abilities, something they wouldn't manage without help. I don't understand the correct process, as the contact doesn't require to be physical. This also means that a lesser conduit could, technically, display any sort of power, unlike you, who only has one."
MacGrath's expression darkened instantly. "So that's where Moya comes from", he growled. "Because I could almost literally create more conduits, I would make a perfect weapon." His eyes widened, then narrowed. "Shit. They could make me the leader of a near-endless amount of super-powered soldiers!"
"Exactly." Another guy made into a weapon by the government feeding them lies. Alex scowled deeply at that idea. No, they couldn't allow this to happen. They had to end this entire thing before it became irreversible. The easiest way would be to kill MacGrath and all the other prime conduits, find and destroy the Ray Sphere and then continue with Moya and the entire DARPA. Easy for Blacklight, though he would blow his cover that way.
But Alex would not sink to this low. No. He and the courier were going to work together to stop this entire mess and drag out everybody who had their hands in this. If there was going to be a shitstorm, they could use it as cover and duck out of sight, while the public tore those responsible to shreds.
"What do you suggest?" The courier asked, expression grim.
"It's not going to be easy", Alex replied. It would be tough getting close to whoever was responsible, mostly because they had learnt from Manhattan and had adapted their tactics. None of the foot soldiers ever met their direct superiors face-to-face, and Alex was willing to bet those didn't meet their superiors either. They split the chain of command, transferred all communication to electronics. It was more elaborate and costly than what he was used to, but incredibly efficient to prevent people like him from simply chewing their way through their organization. This new tactic required more observation and stealth from him, and wasted more time. Time they could use to regroup.
To get all of them, Alex had to start from the top. With Moya.
"I know how to get these fucks off your back", he explained slowly, "Make sure they don't hound you. However", he exhaled. "I don't know how to get them to drop their cover. Not yet, anyways." He glanced at the courier, who was still waiting for the punchline. "You, MacGrath- you are the one Moya's keeping her eyes on."
"And?"
"No matter what you know, you have to keep working for her, try to keep her blind to what we are really doing", the Runner told him. "However, this is only until we know where the Ray Sphere is. Once you have it, once it is destroyed, Moya's not going to have any power left over you. And then I will make sure that all information gets into the world wide web, to clear your name and make sure Empire does not become a second Manhattan." Manhattan had survived the first outbreak- barely. The second one killed the once great city, reduced it to a tomb nobody was allowed to enter.
"She's going to sic her guys on my ass."
"Hopefully", Alex replied. "Because then I have the chance to get to her, and rip this snake's head right off." He inclined his head. "It's risky, I admit, but so far it is the best option I see."
The courier frowned, glancing back over his shoulder a few times until his face set into a determined scowl. "I'm in", he said. "But only on one condition: You have to make sure that neither I nor any of my friends have to suffer from Moya's revenge once she notices what's up."
Alex arched his eyebrows. "I can make sure of that", he assured him. Blacklight was going to keep his word. No matter what.
"Good", the courier exhaled slowly. "Then it's a deal." His eyes narrowed. "Just so we're clear- I'm doing this to piss off Moya, to clear my name and make sure these idiots know who they're dealing with." He jabbed his finger at Alex. "I still can't trust you, and I have not forgotten that you tried to murder me before, or that you threatened my friends."
"Same here", the Runner replied. "I will not hesitate to tear you to shreds should I ever figure out that you betrayed me." It was the same with Cross- Alex was still wary around him. He figured that this would never change.
He paused, feeling the courier's phone ring. He quickly pulled it out of his pocket.
"Good work, Cole", Moya claimed, seemingly unaware that she wasn't currently talking to the courier, but rather to the Terrorist of Manhattan "But there is more trouble going on."
The courier took his phone from the Runner and clicked the reply button. "What kind of trouble?"
"I've been receiving reports of unauthorized drones patrolling the Warren." Alex furrowed his brows, eyes turning narrow. Damnit, that woman really had her spies everywhere. But...who were they? Where were they? He couldn't just start chewing his way through the civilians to hope he got lucky. Fuck it, this whole mess was starting to grow over his head. He should really leave the city as soon as possible. But...he just couldn't leave Empire behind. He wasn't finished here. He had to end this, had to get to Moya and whoever else was responsible, before they could come after him.
The DARPA agent continued talking, giving the courier his new orders. "Since they're not ours, you should look into them." She paused and her voice turned slightly more curious. "I'm also hearing rumors of the Dustmen planning to break through the quarantine. However, I know nothing more about it at the moment. I'll stay in contact, but for now, check out those drones, Cole."
"Got it"
"One other thing", Moya added, sounding annoyed. "Tell your friend Zeke to stop calling me."
MacGrath's eyebrows shot up, level with his hairline, as he sent a surprised stare at Alex. His expression just screamed 'Zeke? What the Heck is he doing?' Moya made a disgruntled noise. "If he wants to play hero and track down 'leads', that's his business. But I don't need to hear about this."
She cut the connection, while MacGrath stared at his phone. "Zeke?" He muttered, "What the Hell are you doing?"
"Hope he doesn't do anything stupid", Alex supplied with a low pitch. A Dustman to the side caught his attention, and he lunged at the man before MacGrath even realized what was going on, and swiftly dragged him out of sight before consuming him. He wasn't that hungry, but that guy could have been a scout for a larger group of them, so knowing what he knew would be useful. His eyes widened as soon as the man's memories settled.
This- this was all kinds of wrong!
"MacGrath!" He barked, shooting back around the corner and not caring in the least whether Moya could hear him or not. He could pretend he was a random civilian who tried to help, after all. "There's trouble!"
The courier blinked confused. He craned his neck, trying to find the guy he just squashed into a wall, as if to ask 'Where is he?'.
"The Dustmen have hostages", the Runner growled, "Loaded on boats. They hope to use them as meat shields to break through the quarantine."
He started jogging towards the closest dock. The courier fell in behind him, voice still disbelieving. "Wait- how the heck do you know that?"
"Not important right now. Just trust me on this." Alex snarled as he reviewed the plans of the Dustmen. "They think they can make the military back down when they use civilians as shields. But this will only end in a tragedy."
MacGrath's eyes narrowed as he hurried to catch up with the older man. "Let me guess- the guys with the guns aren't going to play ball?"
"In case of a city-wide quarantine, the military has standing shoot-on-sight orders. Anyone trying to break through will be gunned down, no questions asked. Happened in Manhattan" He growled in his low pitch again. If Moya heard his voice, she wasn't supposed to know more . "We still have some time, but if any of those boats leave, a lot of innocent people are going to die." Not that he gave a shit about people, but these people had been pressed into this. It hadn't been their choice. Unlike the guys at the Stampton Bridge, who went on from their own free will, the guys on those boats had no saying in that matter.
The courier gave off an abortive snort, then placed his hand over his phone to muffle it. "Okay, I don't want their blood on my hands- but what does this has to do with us?"
Alex stopped, glancing at him. "The main problem is, if they try to break the quarantine, then the upper echelons will see that your friend Moya's not suited for this situation- and they will replace her."
MacGrath's eyes widened. "Shit", he hissed. "And Moya or not- she's the only one we actually want in charge, right?"
"Correct", Alex replied darkly. "And despite her being a proper bitch, until now there were no larger problems with her. But I know DARPA- if they replace her, they will send in someone less concerned about casualties. They would erase Empire City to draw the Ray Sphere out." Maybe even nuke the city. Alex didn't want to believe that they'll resort to that again, but after Manhattan...nothing seemed certain anymore. No. Moya was their best bet at the moment. The less people knew what was going on, the better for him.
"Ah shit", MacGrath exhaled annoyed. "So Moya's the lesser evil then?"
"Sadly, yes." Alex jerked his head over his shoulder. "Come. There's a dock nearby. I need to grab me another Dustman for more information. You make sure the hostages get free."
The courier opened his mouth, the question just what exactly he meant was clearly on his expression. But then he clapped his jaw shut and swallowed, obviously deciding he did not want to know. "Alright", he said instead. "Let's get them out of there."
The two of them approached the dock and the storage building, Alex being careful to not grow his claws in the broad daylight, but since he already displayed his inhuman strength the night before, he didn't see too much harm pulping the Dustmen otherwise. He rushed to the front, swallowing up the bullets from two turrets and shielding the courier from their fire. MacGrath jumped towards them from behind him and fried the two Dustmen operating the machine gun turrets, before he grabbed the guns and sent enough voltage through them to blow them up.
"More on the roof!" He barked.
"Got them", Alex acknowledged. "You take the guys on the ground."
"On it." The courier dashed around the corner of the storage, while Alex coiled his muscles and released them, catapulting himself off the ground and right over the roof. A couple of Dustmen whirled around, startled, and Alex wasted no more time. He angled his body and pushed off the air, shooting downwards with one foot outstretched. He hit the first of the Dustmen, killing him instantly and using his momentum to grind the body over the roof, leaving behind a trail of blood. He lunged at the other two Dustmen and easily subdued them, then consumed both of them for information. The location of the boats flashed through his mind, making him realize that all of them were in a more or less straight line along the shore. Good.
Alex grunted and headed to the edge of the roof, watching how MacGrath took out the Dustmen below. He was fast, and lethal. His lightning bolts had become more powerful since last time- and there were the occasional lightning grenades and exploding ball lightnings he generated and shot at his foes. Truly impressive, though Alex couldn't help but wonder where the courier's limits were.
As the last of the Dustmen went down, MacGrath doubled over, panting. Alex furrowed his brows and stepped off the roof, heading downwards.
"Everything alright?"
"Just need some juice", MacGrath replied. He inhaled once to get back upright, before he headed to a nearby fuse box to drain it. The Runner watched without saying anything, but he could smell the scent of ozone becoming stronger, and he heard the man's pulse calm down.
He had already noticed the man needed to drain energy from somewhere else to power his attacks- he'd seen it in the Jefferson Tunnel, after all, but it appeared he only grew stronger the more he drained. Strangely, his body did not produce enough energy to keep his powers active itself.
Alex couldn't help but smile lop-sided as he realized how similar both of them were. He too needed a source of energy to use his attacks, though in his case that energy came through the Biomass he consumed. But he too was unable to function on his own reserves- he had to get Biomass elsewhere- pretty much like the courier. Except he consumed electricity instead of people.
MacGrath exhaled with a groan and rolled his neck, before he headed towards the boat. Alex glanced at the engine, then turned to the younger man. "You fry the engine. Make sure they can't use this boat anymore." He nodded towards the cage containing several frightened civilians. "I'll take them."
"On it", the courier acknowledged.
He charged up, releasing massive bolts of lightning and aimed it at the countless valves to just break them. The engine sputtered a few times, then started to creak. Smoke billowed up, seconds before there was a small explosion that took out most of its functional pieces.
Alex smirked and easily wrenched the iron gates out of the cage, releasing the people inside.
The people stared at them, before they rushed out, spluttering their thanks as they ran away and into secure areas.
"Where to now?"
"Further down the shore", Alex told him. "There are at least three more boats." He paused, eyes narrowing on the horizon where several military-looking ships were anchored. "These guys over there don't look like they'll wait forever."
MacGrath scowled. "Let's roll"
-------------
They had managed to destroy the other boats and release the hostages quickly enough, with Moya calling once to remind them to move their asses. The way she said it- asses instead of ass- indicated she knew there were two of them. Alex had nearly thrown a fit, but realized that until now she had no idea who the second guy was. MacGrath never told her anything, didn't even admit or deny that he had help, so maybe he could still salvage things there.
Alex was aware it had been his own fault she knew that much- after all, the way he communicated with MacGrath was certainly suspicious, but he still didn't raise his voice any more to avoid that woman getting any more data on him. It pained him she knew that much, but there wasn't anything to be done here.
He had to get to her, better sooner than later.
"What now?" MacGrath asked, slightly out of breath from constantly running and frying people. They had been going all over the Southern Warren, had battled their way through hordes of Dustmen, and even defeated a couple of conduits while at it.
Alex didn't answer, was watching a single cop who just brought the hostages to safety instead. Huh. That was the first police officer he'd seen in weeks, asides from the few this morning.
The man paused, then approached the two of them.
"Folks been telling me you've been the heroes of the hour, right?" He asked. Alex frowned at him, the effect diluted by him not wearing his hood and usual getup, though he did get his message over clearly enough. The cop turned to MacGrath instead, expecting an answer.
The courier rubbed the back of his head. "Uh. Yeah." His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Listen- the stuff about me being a terrorist? That's bullcrap. I'm a courier, I didn't even know what I was transporting."
The policeman lifted his hand. "I know. We pulled a few of your files up. Asides from minor delinquencies, you're clean."
The courier exhaled in relief. "Good to know"
"Yeah. Warden Harms believes in your work too, kid", the cop added. "If you have time, you should meet with him."
"I will."
The cop pulled off, leaving the two of them alone. The courier paused, then switched on his phone.
"Hey Trish", he said in a soothing tone. "How's the hospital looking?"
"The outside is pretty trashed", she explained, "But the inside is in surprisingly good shape. I've already moved a couple busloads of people over there."
The courier inhaled sharply. "Trish!" He more or less barked in a worried tone, "That's dangerous!"
"Relax. We had the militia come with us and it had been calm mostly. Reapers haven't noticed us yet and the Dustmen seemed distracted."
"Don't...don't do that again", MacGrath mumbled. "Please. Just wait until I'm there."
"Don't worry, we're almost finished anyways." The nurse's tone changed. "Also, I've been thinking that we should sit down and talk sometime, figure out what happens once all of this is over."
"Sure", the courier agreed all too quickly, "Whatever you want."
"I'll talk to you later."
MacGrath ended the call, then caught the glare the Runner was sending into his direction. "What?!" He bit out, "Can't a guy do something about the woman he loves?"
"I was going to mention that there were still spy drones to take care of", Alex deadpanned. "I don't care what or who you do in your free time, but right now, there's a job to do."
"Oh", the courier blinked. "Right." he looked around, as if hoping to see one of these mysterious drones, before he checked up on his phone. Sure enough, Moya did mark the area the UAVs were most likely in.
As they made their way over, Moya called again. "We just caught a big break", she announced. "One of the UAVs patrolling the Warren has crashed."
"And?"
"Recover its flight recorder, and I'll try to figure out who's controlling them."
Alex turned, eyes flitting into the infrared spectrum. He could see the drone easily enough- its heated engine setting it apart from the cooler surface it was on. "Over there", he mentioned. MacGrath nodded and hurried over.
The drone they found was a simple plane-like object, resembling a MQ1 Reaper, though it was only half its size, possibly for being less likely to be detected.
"Found it", the courier supplied as they approached the crashed drone.
"Found it", the courier supplied as they approached the crashed drone.
"Use your phone to send me the contents of the flight recorder", Moya ordered. Alex cleared his throat.
"It won't work", he stated, "Your phone's bandwidth isn't enough." He paused, brows drawn together. "However, you can store the data, then we'll need to improve the transmitter strength to make it happen."
"Ookay", the courier frowned. "Guess I can do that."
Alex knelt down next to the drone and pulled out his own phone, using it to copy off the data himself. "We can't let Moya have all the information", he muttered, eyebrows furrowing as he scanned the streams of numbers running over his screen. "Huh. Those things belong to the First Sons", he realized. "To search for the Ray Sphere. Looks like they narrowed it down to this area."
"Shit. They know anything we don't?"
"Doesn't look that way", Alex replied. "If they knew, they wouldn't use drones to scan the area. However, it gives us a good chance: They are searching for it, meaning they don't have the Sphere themselves. And we know it's probably not in the Neon- which leaves the Warren."
"Okay. Find the drones, shoot them down. Get the data off them and then figure out how to get the information over to Moya. Something else?"
"Yeah. The drones are programmed to self-destruct in case they're damaged. This one here didn't engage its safety protocol. Can't say if we get lucky with the others", the Runner stated. "We just have to get to them after picking them out of the sky."
"No pressure there", MacGrath shrugged. He paused, frowning. "Uh- I and explosives don't exactly mix, so what if I blow up these things accidentally?"
"Technically, it shouldn't matter. The charge is inside the body of the drone, shielded by its surface. The risk that it'll blow up when hitting the floor is much higher than it blowing up when you shoot it", Alex explained. "Though in this case I'm faster and more efficient. You just have to get to it before it blows."
"Sounds easy enough then. Let's go."
They headed out of the embark point they found the first drone in and went down the street for a block or so, until the Runner stopped, eyes focusing on the sky.
A second drone soared over them.
"Gotcha", MacGrath growled.
"I get it down, you hurry once it is on the ground", Alex muttered. He quickly looked around, checking the area with his thermal scan to make sure they were alone. Then he shifted to his Whipfist and coiled his muscles. He jumped off the ground, screwing his body higher as the ground spiraled away beneath him. The drone passed by him, but not fast enough to avoid the lethal tentacle of barbed spikes and hardened Biomass.
These things broke just as easily as the viral scanners. The drone gave off a metallic shriek as it dropped downwards, Alex's attack having taken out its wings and engine. He saw the courier hurry off to the crash point to wait for the thing to come down, so he would be there first. Alex let him, focusing on gliding after the dropping drone to avoid cratering.
They both got the data off the flight recorder, then headed deeper into the Warren to look for the next UAVs. They found the next one- and a group of Dustmen.
MacGrath didn't bother slowing down as he lunged at the mobsters, unleashing lightning bolts to down them. Alex let him have them, though he did stop to glance at the drone. It was moving away from them. He could probably jump up there and try to take it out, but his Whipfist didn't have that kind of reach and trying to chase after the drone could quickly turn suspicious.
A Dustman conduit jumped at them, trying to ambush them. Alex smirked. Perfect. He pounced at the guy, arms shifting to his Musclemass as he seized him. The man jerked back, swearing as he tried to free himself, but he wasn't strong enough.
"Heads up", Alex called out, then hauled his arm back and chucked the Dustman with all his might skywards- hitting and downing the UAV.
MacGrath stared at him with his jaw hanging open, as if meaning to say 'Did you really just take down a drone with a guy?!' Alex shrugged. "The drone", he reminded the courier. "Before it goes up."
The younger man stared at him, then threw his arms up in defeat and headed to where the drone crashed.
They quickly found a third drone, but this time MacGrath was faster. He aimed and shot several lightning bolts at the rear-mounted propeller to short it out and drop the UAV. It crashed into the street and slid over the ground to stop just a few yards away from them.
"For future references", the courier mumbled as he pulled the data off the recorder, "I can zap them too. And I don't need to throw people at them."
Alex shrugged. "Nobody was around to witness it anyways and I really missed throwing stuff at airborne targets."
"You are seriously screwed up in your head, you know that?"
"You don't walk out of Manhattan without appreciating the finer things in life."
They found the last drone just three blocks further North, and downed it as well.
"Any left?" The courier asked. The Runner glanced around, then shook his head. "None, as far I can tell." He frowned. "I guess the First Sons are not going to be happy, though. These drones don't come cheap."
The courier was fiddling with his phone. "God. You were right. The bandwidth isn't enough. Damnit."
"You'll need a satellite uplink", Alex figured. He paused, searching through his brain. "The Coleridge building should have an antenna that suits these needs."
"Really?" The younger drawled out. "And you know how this works? Because I don't."
"Not my strong point, I admit, but what I know should suffice. If it works, that is."
"And if not?"
The older man exhaled. "We'll worry about that one later on."
The courier frowned. "Wait, Coleridge is right in Dustmen territory."
"It is. I hope you are ready for some tough battles."
"Oh to Hell with that. These bastards had it coming, after all. Nobody gets to shoot me on my watch."
"I like your attitude."
The courier grinned. "Who defeats most wins."
He charged to the front, unleashing lightning around his arms and shoulders as he barreled right into the Dustmen territory. Alex followed at a slower pace, though he kept the other in his line of vision. He was extremely good, easily able to take out any and all opposition even before they managed to get their bearings together. And aiming at their vital regions too- he managed to down them permanently, so they wouldn't be a problem later.
As the courier found the octagonal tower of the Coleridge building, Alex sped up and caught up to him, then easily sprinted past him and up to the roof while the younger climbed along the wall, latching onto window sills and cracks in the stone.
When he pulled himself over the edge, Alex had already located the satellite dish and had found the control panel. He motioned for the phone.
The courier handed it over, allowing Alex to connect it to the satellite and boost it.
The data they recovered from the UAVs was send off.
"Okay Moya", MacGrath began as soon he got his phone back, "You should have everything."
"And you didn't even ask me how. Impressive", The woman replied. "It's going to take a while to sort through all of this. I'll let you know if I find anything of interest."
MacGrath scoffed. "Just find that damn Ray Sphere, so I can get out of this shooting gallery." To emphasize his point, he pulled at his jacket, fingering the multiple holes in it.
"Why don't you just ask your friend then?", Moya mentioned coolly. The way she said this made Alex's hair stand on end. "The guy who's been helping you?" Her voice picked up. "You know, I am aware you're there, and you're listening. So how about you speak up and talk to me, ZEUS?"