Valerius Kael
3 hours before the attack
I leaned back against the damp alley wall, watching cars roll by with halfhearted interest. The four cloaked figures around me were deep in conversation, discussing plans and targets. None of it mattered to me. It was just another job. As long as the pay was good, I was happy.
One of them, the leader, the one who hired me, was detailing some escape plan involving a warping ability and a prisoner they wanted to break out. I tuned them out, letting their words fade into the background as my eyes followed the passing cars.
As I watched them roll by, an uneasiness settled in the pit of my stomach. Was I nervous? Before I could explore the thought any further, a voice pulled me back to reality.
"Kael, you're clear on the plan, right?" The leader's voice cut through my thoughts.
I focused my attention back to him. "Yeah, yeah, I got it. I'll stir up enough chaos to pull focus from the prison," I muttered, waving them off as I stepped out of the alley and onto the street.
The smells of the city hit me in an instant. The exhaust from cars, the wet asphalt, the distant scent of something fried. My stomach twisted again, and this time, I knew exactly why. I wasn't nervous.
I was just hungry.
I slipped my hands into my pockets, fishing out some loose change and a crumpled 20$ bill. The scent of fried food lingered in the air. Letting my hunger take the lead, I started walking, following the smell and letting its trail guide me to the source.
The trail eventually led me to a chicken shop. Luckily for me, it was mostly empty, with only a few customers scattered around. I stepped through the front door and made my way to the counter.
Behind it, a balding older man was refilling a worn metal napkin dispenser with slow, practiced movements. He had clearly done this a thousand times before. As I approached, his hands stopped, and his tired eyes flicked up to meet mine.
The balding man began to speak, his voice tired "What can i get you?"
"Whatever's cheap." I replied
The man sighed, barely glancing at the menu before looking back at me, although not long enough to actually read anything.
"the two piece chicken meal with onion rings is as cheap as it gets."
"I don't like onions,"I said.
He scoffed, shaking his head. "What kind of person doesn't like onions?"
I let out a quiet chuckle, the reaction seeming to catch him off guard.
"One that's paying you for chicken, not a lecture."
The man exhaled sharply, clearly too tired to argue. "Fries, then."
"Sounds good" I replied
The man began to press a few buttons on the register, a few seconds later he began to speak again
"Fries it is. Want a drink with that?"
I shook my head, not looking for anything extra. "Just a water cup."
He nodded, fingers tapping the register as he punched it in. "Alright, that'll be $10.50."
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a crumpled $20 bill. The man's eyes followed it out of my pocket, probably deciding whether to judge the state of the bill or the inconvenience of having to break it. He didn't comment, though, just let out a sigh and took the money with a slightly annoyed look, handing me the change without a word.
He handed me the water cup, and I made my way to a corner booth to sit down. The wait wasn't long before the meal arrived. The chicken was good for the price tender, crispy, just what I needed.
I spent about an hour eating, enjoying the brief downtime before the job started. Once I'd finished, I tossed the empty tray that had once held my meal and stood up, heading out of the shop.
I arrived an hour early at the place I'd chosen to start my attack. It was a high school, and luckily, the prison break my employer had orchestrated coincided with the first day of school. I was confident I could draw in a good portion of heroes and law enforcement.
I walked toward the front door of the building, where a portly woman sat behind a desk. She looked up, smiled, and waved at me.
I returned the smile with a casual wave.
"Hi," I said, keeping my voice light. "My kid forgot his backpack. I'm just here to drop it off for him."
"Oh, what a thoughtful father you are," she said with a warm smile. "What's their name? I'll call them up to the office for you. oh also If you don't want to wait, you can leave the backpack here."
"I don't have a backpack," I replied.
She paused, looking at me with confusion as she slowly lowered her hand from the phone. "Wait… then why are you"
I just shrugged, a small grin tugging at my lips. "Just wanted to see if you'd buy it."
I then released a stream of purple-black goo from my finger tips. Before she could react, it enveloped her, wrapping her in a cocoon of shifting, viscous substance. Her muffled protests were swallowed by the thick layer of goo as it tightened around her. Her movements were slow, sluggish, as if she were stuck in quicksand.
"You really should be more careful about who you trust," I muttered under my breath. I began to walk away, knowing that the goo would hold her in place until either I was done with what I needed to do, or she ran out of air.
I moved my way through the main building, heading toward the courtyard. It seemed like the students were in between class periods, as swaths of them headed in opposite directions toward their respective classrooms.. I spotted a large group of around 40 or so filtering into the gymnasium at the back of the school. That would be my staging ground.
I kept my head down, blending in with the crowd, as if I were just another student trying to make it to the next class. It was easy to get lost in the sea of faces, I slipped around the back of the gymnasium, out of sight from anyone passing by. Finding a secluded spot near some large metal trashcans, I pulled out my phone, took a seat, and checked the time.
Fortyfive minutes until they initiate the prison break.
I leaned back, contemplating my next move. I'd need to act before things started, while the distractions were still in play.
Just then, a man of similar age to me, in a janitor's outfit appeared out of seemingly nowhere, carrying black trash bags. His blond hair was neatly kept, and his blue eyes stood out against his otherwise plain uniform. Despite his role, he exuded a confidence, a presence that felt out of place for someone whose job was typically looked down upon.
As he began to toss the trash bags into the dumpster, his eyes flicked over to me.
"You aren't supposed to be back here. Go back to class..." he said, his voice flat, before pausing. "Wait, you're not a student. What are you doing?" His tone shifted, now laced with suspicion.
Without missing a beat, I shot the same goo that had immobilized the receptionist at him, but to my surprise, he dodged it with speed I didn't anticipate. "Ugh, what's a speedster doing as a janitor?" I groaned under my breath.
He bolted, moving faster than I expected, but not fast enough. I shifted the goo, reshaping it into a long, thin spike and sent it straight for him. It hit its mark, puncturing his backside with a sharp, wet sound.
he staggered, his speed faltering as the hardened goo dug deeper into his back, and I could hear his sharp breath as he tried to regain his footing.
I willed the goo back, dragging his body along with it. The slick, black tendrils slid over his form, pulling him toward me with a sickening squelch. I didn't give him a chance to recover.
I willed the goo to slid him into the now open trash can, the lid snapping shut behind him. The asphalt was stained with blood, a long smear trailing from where is body once was up the side of the dumpster and presumably into the metal can where he lay.
I checked my phone one last time, noting the time. It was time to move. I coated myself in the same purple goo I'd used to deal with the man and incapacitate the receptionist, my body warping into a monstrous form. Scaling the side of the gymnasium, I began tearing through the ceiling.