Trent, clad in the naerse suit, found himself outside the hospital. He stood, a solitary figure, his gaze fixed on the hospital's structure. Questions swirled in his mind like cherry blossoms in the wind. "What really is the emergency? Is my mother safe within, or perhaps, are the glowing geeks lurking within those walls?" Trent pondered. A gasp escaped his lips, and with determination blazing in his eyes, he took his inaugural step through the hospital gate.
.
.
Oscar and his men stride purposefully back into the hospital, this time with the intention to sow further chaos. One of his associates brandishes a pen-like device, swiftly tapping on the crimson button located at its side.
Sure, I'll add some of my own ideas and see how it goes! Here we go:
Bang!! The sound from the pen rang out, echoing through the hospital hallway. Everyone on that particular floor froze in terror, their eyes fixed on the source of the sound. Oscar and his men stood in the middle of the hall, their faces twisted in cruel, mocking smiles. "Hey, you there!" Oscar shouted, pointing at an elderly man who was trying to get into the elevator. The old man turned to face them, trembling in fear.
Oscar sauntered toward the old man, cracking his knuckles and neck with a sickening, deliberate slowness. The other people in the hallway looked on in terror, dreading what might happen next. All they could do was watch as Oscar's slow, menacing advance closed the distance between himself and the trembling old man.
In one swift movement, Oscar grabbed the old man by the neck and lifted him off the ground, as if he weighed nothing at all. The man's cane clattered to the floor as he struggled to free himself from Oscar's iron grip. "Listen up, nobody's strollin' in or outta here, capisce?" Oscar snarled, his voice full of menace. With a sudden, brutal motion, he released his grip, and the old man fell to the floor in a heap.
The old man clutched at his throat, struggling to catch his breath. His coughing turned into deep, racking sobs as he tried to fill his lungs with air. A young woman, perhaps in her early twenties, rushed to his side. With shaking hands, she offered him a glass of water. He accepted it gratefully, his fingers trembling as he brought the glass to his lips.
"Hey!" Oscar bellowed, his voice booming through the room. His face was contorted with rage, veins bulging from his forehead. "Who the hell you think you are, huh? Vito, show this punk what's what!" He fixed his gaze on Vito, who stood nearby, an evil grin spreading across his face.
The young woman's eyes widened in terror as Vito reached into his coat pocket. She shut her eyes, bracing for what was to come. Bang! A spray of blood splattered on the floor instantly.
The girl's eyes surprisingly fluttered open fully expecting a one-way ticket to meet Jesus. To her amusement, there lay the guy who tried to do her in, now headed express to the devil's abode. "Wait, what?" she pondered. Glancing further, behind the life-challenged guy, a mysterious shadow strolled toward the spectacle, gradually revealing itself.
Oscar and the others, still in shock, turned to witness none other than Trent, wielding a merciless submachine gun. He strolled towards the now lifeless Vito, his demeanor cold and calculated. With brutal efficiency, Trent unloaded a barrage of bullets into Vito's head, ensuring the confirmation of his demise. The brutal act unfolded as a direct response to the earlier confrontation he had with Diogo at Wales Industry.
Oscar removed the cigar from his mouth now and tossed it away, "He's in the house! The dude we've been itching for just rolled up." Oscar said with a smirk. The lady and the old man ran towards where other people were standing and watching. Trent who was still indifferent completely ignored what Oscar said and shot one of Oscar's men guarding the elevator to avoid anyone going out. He didn't have to signal the hostages to leave as they swarm towards the elevator.
As the elevator doors closed, a fleeting sense of relief swept over some hostages who had managed to enter first. However, their respite was abruptly cut short. The elevator jerked to a sudden stop, plunging into darkness as the lights flickered out. An eerie hum permeated the air, and the temperature plummeted. A palpable sense of dread settled in – something was undeniably awry.
It was later revealed that one of Oscar's men had swiftly sabotaged the elevator's power supply, casting the passengers into an unsettling predicament.
Luckily the people who got in we're not endangered due to the safety mechanisms such as brakes and counter weights designed to engage, preventing the elevator from free-falling. Instead, it typically stops gradually and safely.
The remaining hostages found themselves cornered. Oscar, fueled by rage, unleashed a barrage from his firearm, sending a shockwave that temporarily incapacitated and inflicted excruciating pain upon them.
The passengers writhed in agony as the paralyzing energy coursed through their bodies. They were helpless to do anything but watch as Oscar and his men stalked toward them, their faces twisted with malicious glee. "You think you could slip away, huh?" Oscar sneered. "Guess what? You all just played yourselves."
Oscar pivoted to face Trent, whose scruffy hair now obscured his eyes, lending him an eerie aura. "Yo, what's with the sudden vibe change? You realize you're 'bout to catch a beatdown, huh?" Oscar remarked.
Trent stood stock-still, his expression unreadable. One of the men raised his gun and fired, but Trent didn't so much as flinch. The bullet ricocheted off him, leaving no mark. Oscar snarled and struck the man who had fired the shot, sending him sprawling to the ground. "You fool" he spat. "Don't you know who you're dealing with?" The men exchanged uncertain glances, unsure of what to do next. "Dumbass bullets ain't gonna cut it, go swarm the guy!" Oscar barked, seething with anger.
As the men charged towards Trent, one of them threw a punch, but Trent grabbed his arm and flung him across the room with superhuman strength. The man crashed into a table, shattering it into splinters. Trent's eyes flashed with a manic glee as he surveyed the damage. "One down," he hissed. The other men hesitated, unsure of what to do next. "What's wrong?" Trent taunted. "Afraid?"
Trent didn't wait for their attacks; he sprang into action, growing accustomed to his newfound powers. He no longer required Harley to show him the ropes.
Trent's powers flowed through him like a river of molten lava, scalding hot and impossible to resist. He darted around the room like a lightning bolt, his movements too fast for the men to track. They lunged at him, but he was already gone, leaving them grasping at air. He was a force of nature, unstoppable and wild.
He sprinted towards one of the men, a hefty, cue-ball-headed dude. With ninja-like reflexes, Trent yanked down the guy's trousers, leaving him in an embarrassing pants-pulling predicament. In his moment of shame, the poor guy stooped to hoist his pants, only to catch a swift kick from Trent that sent him tumbling.
Oscar, frustrated and exasperated, performed a facepalm, placing his hand on his forehead in a gesture of disbelief and disappointment. It appears Trent was somewhat underrated; his intel didn't provide the full picture on this guy. He was more than human, moving faster than the eye could track. It was like a nightmare brought to life.
Trent's body became enveloped in a vibrant blue aura, his eyes aglow in the same hue. Suddenly, one of his eyes shifted to a striking yellow, and a HUD materialized in his vision. "Impressive, 47 percent drained? That move seriously consumed more than half of my energy. I should chill a bit," he pondered.
As expected, the other men lacked the courage to confront the formidable Trent. One of them hurried to restore power to the elevator and made a hasty escape, only to be swiftly paralyzed by Oscar, left in the same state as the hostages. "Coward," Oscar uttered calmly. The other dude, catching on, decided to play possum, like he was auditioning for a comedy sketch, pretending to be the world's worst actor in a "lifeless" role, all to bamboozle Trent.
This left Trent in fits of laughter, while Oscar, thoroughly disappointed and frustrated, replicated the other people's condition towards him making him paralyzed. "What kinda dudes are these?" Oscar grumbled, visibly peeved. Turning his attention to Trent, he cracked a sly grin, "Now it's just you and me, Mr. Awesome. Let the showdown begin, pal."
"Sure thing, dude, whatever your name is. Just remember, I've been practicing my 'awesome' moves. You might wanna goggle a cheat code to keep up!"
Oscar cracked his knuckles and shot back, "Well, get ready, Mr. Mysterious. I'm writing the final lines – in blood!" With a sinister smirk, he lunged towards Trent.