Michael raced across the shadowed rooftops of the city, the night air crackling faintly around him as arcs of electricity surged through his Voltstrike suit. His prey, a masked villain, darted through the narrow alleys below, creating shimmering barriers with a wave of his hand to deflect pursuit.
This wasn't some petty thief. The criminal was known as Bastion, a dangerous rogue with the ability to conjure impenetrable energy shields at will. His power, combined with his cunning, had made him a thorn in the side of authorities for months.
Yet for all his bravado, Bastion fled like a cornered rat. Voltstrike was relentless.
"You won't escape me," Michael growled under his breath, his voice distorted by the suit's built-in modulator.
With a burst of energy, he leapt from one rooftop to another, closing the distance. Bastion twisted his head back, his face contorted with fear and frustration. He thrust out his hands, forming another glowing barrier just in time to block the bolt of lightning Voltstrike hurled at him.
The energy crackled and fizzled against the shield, lighting up the alley like a fireworks display.
"Persistent, aren't you?" Bastion sneered, though his voice betrayed his desperation.
Michael didn't respond. He sent another surge of lightning toward the barrier, testing its strength. The barrier held, but Bastion staggered, beads of sweat rolling down his face.
Voltstrike dropped down into the alley, his boots hitting the ground with a heavy thud. He advanced slowly, his hands crackling with restrained energy.
Bastion flinched, retreating further into the maze of alleys. "You can't catch me, Voltstrike," he spat. "I'm not like the others. I fight back!"
Michael's lips curled into a grim smile beneath his mask. "Then fight."
With a roar, Bastion flung an energy barrier forward like a battering ram. Michael sidestepped with ease, launching himself into a sprint. Bastion tried again, this time creating a shield around himself and sprinting forward, hoping to bulldoze through his pursuer.
Michael leapt upward, flipping over the moving barrier with superhuman agility. As he landed behind Bastion, he sent a streak of lightning crackling along the ground. The energy coursed up Bastion's legs, sending him tumbling forward with a cry of pain.
"Is that all you've got?" Voltstrike taunted, his voice cold and devoid of mercy.
Bastion snarled, rolling onto his back. He created another barrier above him, just in time to block the electrified punch Voltstrike aimed at his chest. Sparks flew as the barrier cracked under the impact, but it held.
"You think you're some kind of hero?" Bastion spat, scrambling to his feet. "You're just another thug in a fancy suit!"
Michael didn't respond. He was too focused on the task at hand—and too distracted by his own thoughts.
Lumian's words echoed in his mind: "Sometimes people aren't what they seem, until you actually get close to them."
Why had Lumian taken the news of the "other Lumian" so calmly? It wasn't normal. Was there something he was missing?
The split-second distraction was all Bastion needed. He pulled a gun from his belt and fired.
The sharp crack of the gunshot snapped Michael back to the moment. He twisted his body just in time, the bullet grazing his shoulder and ricocheting off the alley wall. Pain flared, but it only fueled his anger.
"You dare pull a gun on me?" he snarled, his voice crackling with barely restrained fury.
Bastion smirked, though his face was pale with fear. "What's the matter, hero? Didn't see that coming?"
Michael lunged forward, his fists sparking with energy. Bastion barely managed to raise another barrier in time, but Michael didn't stop. Blow after electrified blow rained down on the shield, each strike sending shockwaves through the air.
The barrier began to crack, faint lines spreading across its surface. Bastion's smug expression faltered.
"You're finished," Michael said, his voice low and menacing.
With one final punch, the barrier shattered like glass. Bastion stumbled backward, his eyes wide with panic. He raised his gun again, but Michael was faster.
A bolt of lightning shot from Voltstrike's hand, striking the weapon and sending it flying from Bastion's grasp.
"Wait! Please!" Bastion cried, falling to his knees.
Michael loomed over him, his body radiating power. He raised a hand, ready to summon another bolt of lightning, but paused as Bastion began to speak.
"You think this will change anything?" Bastion shouted, his voice trembling. "You think taking me down will make the world better? You're just like the rest of us—just another freak pretending to be a hero!"
Michael froze. For a moment, Bastion's words blurred with his own memories. He thought of the "other Lumian," the monster in human skin.
His fist clenched. His mind, twisted by Lumian's corruption, replayed the events of that fateful night. The fear. The rage. The blood.
"You're all the same," Bastion continued, sensing an opening. "You play the hero, but deep down, you're no different. You'll never be enough. Not for this city. Not for anyone you love—"
The mention of his loved one immediately registered Angela in his mind and it snapped something inside Michael.
"Shut up!" he roared, his voice amplified by the suit's speakers.
Electricity surged around him, lighting up the alley in a blinding display of power. Bastion recoiled, raising his arms in a futile attempt to shield himself.
"You villains think you can say whatever you want. Do whatever you want. And we're supposed to just let you go? No more!" Michael's voice was a mixture of anger and despair, his emotions spiraling out of control.
Bastion's bravado crumbled. He stared up at Michael, his eyes wide with terror.
"I'm done playing nice," Michael said, his voice cold and final.
With a sudden burst of speed, he grabbed Bastion by the collar and lifted him off the ground. Sparks danced across his fingers as he tightened his grip.
"You steal. You hurt. You kill. And then you cry for mercy when it's your turn to face justice. You're all the same. Scum like you don't deserve to live."
Bastion struggled, but it was no use. The fear in his eyes turned to pure panic as Michael's hand began to glow with electric energy.
"Please!" he begged. "I'm sorry! I'll change! I swear—"
Michael didn't let him finish.
A surge of lightning erupted from his hand, coursing through Bastion's body. The villain's screams echoed through the alley, but Michael didn't stop. He watched, unflinching, as the electricity reduced Bastion to ash.
When it was over, Michael stood over the smoldering remains, his chest heaving.
For a moment, he felt a strange sense of satisfaction. But it was quickly replaced by something darker—a growing hunger for more.
He looked at the pile of ashes, his mind swirling with Lumian's words. "Sometimes, you have to cut the problem at the root."
Michael nodded to himself, his resolve hardened. He turned and disappeared into the night, leaving the alley in silence.
As Michael (Voltstrike) disappeared, an audible breath was released. Hidden in the shadows, Stone stepped forward, his face pale and his hands trembling slightly as he held a camera.
He looked down at the device, scrolling through the footage. "The footage is good," he muttered to himself. "Most of it was too far and fast to catch, but the important part... it's all here."
Stone's brow furrowed as he thought about what he had just witnessed. His mind wandered to Lumian. "How did he know Michael was Voltstrike? And how did he know he'd..." He glanced at the pile of ashes and bones that was once Bastion. "...kill somebody?"
He racked his brain, trying to piece together the puzzle, but no answers came. With a frustrated sigh, he gave up.
His eyes lingered on the charred remains. He gulped, his voice barely a whisper. "Michael is scary... almost as scary as Lumian."
Then, as if recalling a vivid memory, he shuddered and corrected himself. "Actually... maybe not that scary. Lumian's on a whole different level."
Stone shook his head and pocketed the camera. With one last glance at the ashes, he turned and walked away.