Her hair began to lift on its own, black pupils of her eyes expanding until the converted the whole duration. From her hands spewed dark energy, the content matter that permeated all of space and evaporated everyone around her, leaving only ash fluttering in the wind as the pure pressure of her bristling power had shattered the windows around her. One hid behind her, not a man like the other henchmen but just a teenage kid, scrawny and frail, barely able to hold the machine gun in his hands that he placed down. He cried and begged for mercy while huddling in the corner, and Galexa had no intention to kill him, though a floating lady who shimmered and used the power of dark energy to kill over twenty in instants was rather intimidating. “You may live,” Galexa spoke, her voice resonating around the room deeply, “but next time I will not give you a mercy.” He still quivered and shook in his boots, and just before he could articulate the words thank you his head was a bloody stump; from above the masked vigilante dropped down and blew the smoke away from the barrel of his magnum. He wore a combat vest, heavy militant boots, a red plaster mask and beret; his figure was tall and imposing. Galexa scowled as she wiped a small fragment of skull and brain matter off her suit. “Scourge,” she growled. “I thought the family reunion would be more becoming, sister dearest,” Scourge grunted in response. “Shame we had to meet this way for the first time in... years, its been, now. And please, Lily, we haven’t been apart long enough for you to forget my real name.” “You’d rather I call you Jack?” “Not necessarily. I just thought the sentiment of not forgetting me completely would be a nice gesture, considering you’re never accepting my invitations to my house parties.” “Your friends are disgusting.” “And your little outfit is lewd. I’m guessing your sponsor is Sports Illustrated?” “Very funny, Jack.” Scourge sighed. “Well, as much as I want to catch up with you, the world’s going to the dogs,” he said. “Yep.” They moved in unison, walking with haste further into the penthouse. The next room opened into an expansive casino, fit with fine leather, cashmere pillows lying about the marble floor and on the couches of blackjack and poker tables. The pungent smell of Cuban cigars filled the air. Near a hearth alongside a brass-lined counter sat an imposing figure. It had a metal skin, scratched and worn over time, with red infernal eyes, a long and slick sword built into its right arm. It sat in a case with electricity routing into its body through a web of wires, sword vibrating with energy. On its side read a label in big, boldened letters; [b]CENTURION[/b]. The guide crackled on from above as the lid of the case popped open. [i] “The Hero Purge was perhaps one of the most horrific and gut wrenching events in the civil rights movement for the Powered populous, and at the center of former President Garmor’s campaign was the Centurion model, a powerful and lethal hunter employed to kill those with supernatural powers on sight. After the expansion of HCore following this, H. Drake decided to use the newfound profits he had to support the heroes being actively hunted and expose President Garmor’s affiliation with Binary Lord, a vicious anti-Hero terrorist. After Garmor was impeached for his heinous crimes H. Drake made the decision to keep a surviving Centurion model active in his own home to serve as a reminder of a dark time in history.”[/i] Galexa and Scourge watched in horror as the Centurion grew before them, his iron-bolstered armor shimmering under the light and red eyes coming to life. [u]//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// >SUBSYSTEM>CONTROLS >HERO PROTOCOL >LOADING purge.exe >24% >57% >79% >100% >purge.exe DOWNLOAD COMPLETE /////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////[/u] A deep, guttural groan emits from the centurion as its sword lights up with electricity and a purple hue. And in seconds the machine was upon them; a tuff of Galexa’s hair was torn as the sword barely missed her head with a quick swerve. With not much time in edgewise she released a ball of pure concentrated matter in the direction of the Centurion, who just blocked the brunt of the blow with heavy chest armor, the attack evaporating on impact. Scourge tried his hand and pulled out both of his magnums, firing off shots which either had their shrapnel ricocheted around the room or be lodged within thick plating, doing not much of anything. A shred of debris buried itself into Scourge’s knee, who wailed in pain as the Centurion advanced on him, not before being blown into a poker table by Galexa, chips flying everywhere as it collapsed. Galexa was furious. Balls of concentrated energy seethed in her hand, ready to be rapid fired at the robot that wished to destroy them. And when the Centurion tried to stand again she pummeled it to the ground with as much fury as she had in her, and by the end the machine grinned devilishly as it towered above her, lifting Galexa by the collar as metal hands clasped around her throat and squeezed tightly. She struggled to breathe as the hard and abrasive metal strangulated her, tightening and making breathing even harder of a task as she writhed and tried her hardest to escape. It finally let go, and as Galexa rolled on the floor, trying to escape crawling as her legs turned to gelatin, the Centurion advancing just fast enough to keep its sword looming above her. As she stretched against the wall and the Centurion followed, the last image in her mind was its red eyes as her powers spluttered and died, preparing for the worst. But it never came; the robot was frozen in place, collapsing only seconds later as a heavily-wounded Scourge had ripped out the core that powered it with his bare hands. The Centurion’s metal carcass was sprawled across the ground, arcs of electricity crackling across it as its eyes dimmed to darkness. While the Centurion was destroyed, both of its combatants were wounded; Scourge was downright crippled and hopping on one leg since the other was rendered useless, and Galexa could no longer use her powers, as well as she felt her will to live diminishing quickly. She had overexerted herself in battle and began to feel the price of it. Despite this, Galexa ran to Scourge and hugged him tightly. They held this embrace for longer than they should have due to the circumstances, and Scourge smiled at the show of affection, under his mask. “Jack, thank yo-” That is when in the wreck of the former penthouse the lights went out and all that could be seen was a glowing neon exit sign above a white door among the darkness, cicadas playing. As Scourge and Galexa let go they looked at each other and walked to the door with caution, though she could feel his hand slowly drift from hers and melt into the void. She walked forward to the door, being driven forward by a force she didn’t know, into the blinding light. She awoke with a pulsing tint of red on the world and a 9. millimeter in her hands. Scourge sat in the back, a needle threatening to slice his throat at any time, trying to stay perfectly still. And sprawled out against the wall was an old man, frail, skin shriveled and leathery. He looked as if he was in a perpetual state of necrosis due to the rot festering on his feet and arms, crooked teeth, dead eyes but with just enough light in them to be on the brink of death. The room around her was higher than all, the control room of HCore Tower, from where the energy was routed to the kaser and it was activated. She reached to her side and tried to disable it, but it was completely jammed. A wire behind it snaked and coiled around the room back to where the dead man stood, and it was plugged into him.