At the moment, Aster was sitting on the edge of a rooftop.
Tall building. He never really had a fear of heights, but looking down he could tell that it could be a pretty killer drop. Over a hundred stories up, he always wondered why he ended up in massive operations like this.Â
He was a mercenary. People in his line of work weren't people with the highest life expectancy. He though, has managed to survive absolutely everything thrown at him. It's happened before with super-competent mercenaries(not to say he wasn't competent), but man was this sorta stuff not suited for him.Â
When he'd first started as a kid, he was someone who did pretty tame and lackluster scavenger sorta missions. Dumpster diving, delivery, carrying stuff, that sorta stuff. Then one day, in a battlefield in the middle of nowhere important, he realized that everybody had left except the other side. So, surrounded by enemies, he got shot and was left for dead, as a lightning storm approached. As he was swept away by a flood of water, the side he'd been working with found him.
First it was, "Oh hey, this kid survived getting shot like six times now."
Next it was, "Woah, that kid's survived getting blown up, stabbed, and shot, all at the same time!"
Then it was, "Yo ho, my man beat a bunch of bears dropped on him by some maniac!"
Eventually, it became, "Oh hey, the Immortal's here!"
Truly a bother. Such an idea was silly. He got that people didn't seriously think he was immortal, but he certainly felt people thought too much of his survivability. Although, he guess he didn't mind much at all.
Sitting on the ledge he stared at the open box of cigarettes he was holding. He didn't even smoke. Most mercenaries did, so he'd bought a pack in case anything ever happened.
He and everyone always joked that the reason he survived so much because he didn't smoke.Â
Pocketing the cigarettes in his pockets, he sighed.Â
Whatever~ Whatever~ Whatever~
This mission he'd been dragged(/guilted?) into. He was surprised he agreed so easily. He supposed it was a good thing after all, as his humanity was sorta slowly being cooked away. It was probably a good thing he could care about others at all really.Â
The operation... could it even really be considered such? It was... massive in scale sure... but it was really more of a suicide mission. The scale of what was gonna happen was big, but the number of attendants could be counted on one hand. Maybe more if there were any special variables they didn't tell him about.Â
Oh well, he was never the calculative type, despite others seeming to think otherwise. Maybe it was his demeanor nowadays that made people think he was untouchable and always a thousand steps ahead.Â
Oh well. Whatever.
Boom.Â
Underneath him, the building exploded. Hopping off the edge, he fell, connected a couple of wires, he cut em as he slammed into the building.Â
With a smooth roll in the presence of glass, he got up and began cooly walking forward. Looking around, he admired the office environment. It felt sorta homey with its flickering lights. The sorta place where you'd be unbelievably bored working at, but a nice place to run around and make trouble.
First thing he noticed was a couple of guys with guns in front of him, standing around an elevator, and cards scattered about, a sign of their recent game. They'd see a man, who'd just smashed in through the windows and approach them, simply exuding swagger with every step. Immediately, shots were fired but none hit, as he immediately rolled out of the way. Dashing around cubicles, he kicked a cubicle wall at em, with it getting shredded apart by bullets tearing through.
He was already gone. Two guys in the front found themselves being shot right in the head, which instead of blowing a hole in their heads, bounced off their heads, only knocking them out and over. As they both hit the ground, they regained consciousness. As they did so, he stood in the middle of the pack. As they all turned their attentions to him, he dropped a grenade, prying the elevator door apart, and hopping through.Â
Falling through the building as a bang sounded out behind him, he grabbed onto a ledge and hopped onto it. Tearing the elevator doors apart, he waltzed right through. It was a narrow hallway with a bunch of doors. He was met with two interesting fellows. A white-haired man adorned in a white suit. Contrasting him was a black-haired guy wearing a tight black t-shirt, grey silver-ish baggy pants, and black gloves.Â
The pair looked oddly professional, even though one wore a more rugged appearance, he still looked focused, concise, clean.Â
He'd be the first to speak up, "Eh? Is that the Immortal?"
The white suit man exclaimed in surprise, "Seriously? I thought he'd be... bigger? Like Frankstein!"
"Frankenstein's Monster. And the guy's already fucking massive whaddya mean?" His voice was full of disbelief.
"Yeah, but this guy's 6'2, I thought he'd be like a foot taller." Aster's eyes widened a bit.
"What? Why?"
"I dunno man, maybe the near-death experiences would make him bigger?"
"He's not a Saiyan bro... and Zenkais don't even make you bigger?"
Judging from first impressions, the suit seemed to be the more clueless of the two, supplemented by his partner's knowledge, but well, that was just the most surface assumption. One thing he noticed was that the suit's perception and accuracy was extremely good. Besides all of that, he didn't have much on them.Â
For him, there was left to do, but start blasting. Dual pistols out he began firing. Bullets streaked past, as the suit was thrown outta the way. Standing in the "Immortal"s way, his partner stood against the barrage of bullets. Standing in the rain of bullets, their brows raised in surprise.
"...Rubber bullets? Isn't that too soft?" He was a bit confused by their choice of weaponry.
"You know, these are still coming out of a very real gun? Any normal person woulda evaded."
"Can you really even afford to let people live so easily?" He seemed truly surprised. His tone was that of a genuine question.
"Spare me the talk already." He'd had this conversation too many times for his liking.
"Alright man, whatever ya say. Key, get em."
From the side, the suit seemed to blink into view. Blocking a kick to the head with his palm, their eyes met. There was a killer right there. Bang, smacking the young man away, they were sent straight through a wall. Aster cracked his wrists. They'd manage to redirect his strike last second. These two were gonna be a hassle.
Fast and durable, both were strong. As he'd knocked away the suit, the other came at him. In a streak of black, they smashed into him. It was extremely telegraphed and easier to react to, but way harder to block. The cool thing was though, the "Immortal" didn't budge. Expecting retaliation, they threw a hook.Â
The "Immortal" responded similarly and both connected with the other. To the "Immortal", it felt like striking inconceivable strength itself. To the young man in black, it was like hitting a brick wall.
Taking the brunt of the impact, the "Immortal" was thrown to the side, smashing through a wall, and into a couple cubicles. Putting a hand on where he was hit, the man in black smiled. "Phew! Jeez, he hits hard."
Walking beside him, the suit, Key stood, "Mhm. A lil harder than you."
Seriously? Loosening their smile a bit, they sighed, "Fuck you."
Key smirked a little, "How about you go fuck yourself instead?"
Arising from smashed cubicles, the "Immortal" reloaded his pistols, "Heads up, I'm using real ammo this time."
Bang!
Smouldering in their chest, the bullet layed before falling out. It hadn't even gone through their skin.Â
Bang! Bang! Bang!
A barrage of bullets spewed out, blowing apart the walls around them, it still dealt no damage. Smoke wafted off the black-clad worker. Behind them, the only bit of wall remaining was the wall shielded by his body. "Hahhh."
It sounded like they'd just got out of a warm hot bath.
On the other hand, the man in the suit just dodged all the bullets sent his way. Not from reflex or prediction, it was purely reaction.
Aster frowned, the black-dressed one smiled, and Key's expression was neutral.
Aster exhaled. Putting the guns away, they took a stance. Tension rose, but not much for him. Just an instant and the tension was snapped away as the battle began. Smashing through walls and cubicles, sending desks flying and papers strewn about, they battled through the floor.
Grabbing the head of the one not named Key, the "immortal" slammed them into the floor sending them a floor down. The suit tried to interrupt with an absurdly fast dash, but they found themselves colliding with nothing.Â
The "Immortal" stared down at the hole and grinned. Lifting up his jacket, many many grenades were revealed. Pulling a pin they all came out. Bouncing around the body of the darkly dressed worker, they went off consecutively.
Destruction. Not quite a light show but there was certainly a bang. Shrapnel flew tearing apart everything in its path as they were covered in smoke.
As the dust settled, they arose from the debris. Their shirt was torn, revealing nothing but a couple of small bruises. Aster sighed.
"Never mind, forget what I say about you being soft. Shit woulda been brutal for anyone else, who even carries around that many grenades?"
The suit blinked to his side as he got up. "So what're our odds?"
"Not... high I guess. Not bad either. I think." He was unsure of what lay behind the nearly mythical man one floor up.
Key got the gist, "I'll start pushing."
Vanishing, he'd gone up the hole, kicking the "Immortal" in the head. Blocking the strike, Aster fired off a couple of hits. The white-haired one stayed untouched. Stomping the floor, shattering the ground underneath them, their footing was destroyed. In that bit of momentary chaos, Aster landed a blow to their chin. The white-haired youth had managed to both intercept and roll with the strike as it was being landed, mitigating almost every bit of the attack.Â
Stepping back, they brought a hand to their chin. Even with most of the impact being avoided- they certainly felt the blow.Â
Then, the shattered floor gave out. Standing underneath as the rubble fell on and around, their partner reared up a punch, unaffected by falling debris. As the "Immortal" came falling, he struck their fist down and sent out a counter.Â
Both simultaneously knocked each other away. Spitting out blood, the darkly dressed youth took out a cigarette and lighter. Bringing the cig to his lips and covering it, he brought the lighter up. Close to his face with a spark, the flames slowly rose, lighting the white end of the stick.Â
A breath in. Exhale. A slow and long puff of smoke came streaming out.
"You're disgustingly tough." The man said as smoke left his lungs, "I don't normally fight people this tough. So maybe it's pride or something."- It was a bit vague as to what he meant, but nonetheless he justified it, and the infamous mercenary could guess what it was.- "My name is Bolt. I want to defeat you."
"Good luck with that. I don't even smoke." The "Immortal" grinned as the two stood in front and back of him.Â
------
Kicking Bolt's body down the elevator shaft, the "Immortal" took a breath of relief. Turning to look at Key, he sighed, "Ya gonna get him? Fall like that probably isn't likely to kill him."
With a bit of blood covering him, the white suit looked at the notorious merc and walked up to them, going right pass them.
Letting himself collapse to the ground and lay against the wall, the mercenary breathed another sigh of relief. He knew he was gonna win, but it was still a pretty exhaustive fight with two strong enemies.
Standing up, he took a breath.Â
As he relaxed a little, his senses spiked. Overwhelming danger. Turning around, he intercepted someone's arm. shortly locking and pushing them away. It was a lady carrying a knife.Â
Before he could react, he felt cold metal left in his neck. Immediately clenching the arm of this messenger of death, they stopped it from moving any further.
Looking over him at this at the face of his aggressor, towards this face of death, he couldn't help but find her terrifyingly beautiful.