Three Days Later
Jumpdrive frowned at the screen. Corvallis was in chaos, with a rebellion of humans adding to the general feelings of imminent destruction that was facing the city. He wasn't sure what the point of this exercise was, but he would still stay and follow orders. Not for Buttercup, or Rainmaker, or the absent Euphoria. Or for the city. But for Michael.
For today, he hunted Michael's killer. Not himself, but the Epic that had forced him to kill his own friend.
Iconoclast.
Locator buzzed, reminding him of his mission as his thoughts distracted him. Looking at the screen, he saw that the drone he had flicked to was seeing something. An old church, it seemed, with a crowd of people inside. And around the edges.... ghouls. The creatures skulked out of the shadows, blood covering their bestial claws and faces. The stained-glass windows of the church were intact. Evidently, the inhabitants did not have guns or other means of defending themselves. They would be slaughtered. The beasts howled and charged. He nearly piloted the drone onwards, not wishing to see yet another slaughter in the charnal-house the city had become. But he noticed something strange. The ghouls reached the windows, the people screamed, but.... there was no smashing glass.
The ghouls stopped, avoiding the flimsy windows and hissing as they circled the building.
Jumpdrive was astounded. He'd seen ghouls jump straight through windows before, shards of glass slicing their skin to pieces. They didn't feel pain. Why stop? He moved the drone closer, trying to get a better look. His suspicions were confirmed- the windows were not barred, or boarded-up, and they could clearly see and hear the people inside. They should be climbing through the windows and bashing down the door, but they simply stalked around them.
Suddenly a jolt of realisation his him. Every Epic had a weakness. His research had confirmed that the weakness worked even against Giftings of that Epic's power. The only thing that could possibly be deterring those things.... was if something about that building, or those windows, triggered Iconoclast's weakness. This could be the secret. He studied the windows. "Locator, get me in touch with Buttercup. She needs to know about this...."
Hours later....
Iconoclast and Slaughterine made a happy pair of murderers. The streets were abandoned, and the distant sound of gunfire could be heard. Chaos followed him wherever he went, and it had come here with but a little push. He had kidnapped their little Epic Broadcast, using his power to disrupt communications, send out calls for revolution, and incite terror. Then, his constant attacks and threats against the Queen Bubbles prevented Corvallis from controlling movement into and out of the city. It hadn't been long before most of the Epics had begun fleeing with their own servants. The servants and slaves had risen up in violent mobs, and the Epics had fled even faster. It wasn't long before many of the security forces had begun joining the rebels, or fleeing on their own. And through it all had been him and Slaughterine, slaying guard units, turning humans into beasts, and sowing fear throughout the city and its citizens.
It had been a good few weeks.
An armoured van suddenly veered from around the corner in front of them, with the badge of the Corvallis Security Forces emblazoned on the sides. "Ah, more lackeys of Rainmaker, to interrogate me about my crimes!" Iconoclast laughed. The armoured car sped towards them, and Slaughterine ran for a nearby yard to get out of the way. Iconoclast kept laughing, holding his hands behind his back. Slowly, they hardened, two fists becoming like rock, bones and joints stiffening. The car was almost upon him, tinted windshield reflecting his own visage back upon him. He was reminded in seeing that face that it wasn't his real face. Never, never his real face.
Just before the van hit him, he leaped up, enhanced leg muscles propelling him forward with great force. He thrust his hardened arms in front of him, and he met the windshield of the speeding vehicle like a rocket. The impact shattered his arms, and he could feel every crack, break and fracture as the shock reverberated through his skeleton. His arms were nearly ripped from his body. But the windshield shattered too.
Sailing through the wreckage, glass tearing his skin apart, Iconoclast came face-to-face with the shocked human driver. His momentum crushed them together, and Iconoclast's jagged teeth found his throat as the van veered off course. The guard let out a gurgled scream, and Iconoclast felt his bones healing back together again as he ripped the driver's throat out.
The vehicle crashed onto its side, sliding through a lawn and crashing into a nice suburban house.
Slaughterine ran to help him, and the back doors of the van fell open. As Iconoclast crawled out of the shattered and bloodied canopy of the van, three figures emerged from the back, recovering from the crash remarkably well. Two women and a man, all carrying weapons. He recognised one- Buttercup, head of Corvallis Security.
"Master!" Slaughterine begged. "That is Buttercup! We need to GO!" Iconoclast laughed, snapping himself back together. "Perhaps, little one, but for now, I want to have a little fun..."
The two groups faced each other, the wheel of the van still spinning idly. Iconoclast shuddered, the final re-positioning complete. He was fully healed. He smiled broadly, revealing a row of razor-sharp teeth amidst his otherwise nondescript, middle-aged features. "Well well well! If it isn't Buttercup herself! And her little band of deputies! Hmm... strange, they don't seem to be in uniform. Did all your real officers run away?"
Buttercup looked furious, but said nothing. She hefted a large axe, to go with the spear and samurai sword the others wielded. Iconoclast was curious- why... swords? Medieval weapons? Did they think a sword could do more to him than a gun or a speeding van could? After a silence, he continued. "I think you should give up, all three of you. The city is lost, and my ghouls run rampant already. I have spent the last day building up quite the number of them! My advice is to leave, and end this totalitarian little project you have here. Embrace the chaos, and take what you want! Like true Epics should."
The three spread out, holding their weapons carefully, all with the sharp edges of the blades facing him. The man, however, held his crookedly, so that the flats were exposed. That is when he saw something on the blade. Some arrangement of symbols, scratched into the metal. He narrowed his eyes, and felt the slightest tinge of fear. Could they..... The man saw him looking at his weapon, and he started, twisting it so that the symbols were out of view. Iconoclast froze. They... they knew. They knew his weakness!
Iconoclast screamed, "Destroy the blades! Slaughterine, destroy the weapons!" Buttercup yelled a warcry and all three charged towards him, wielding weapons marked with holy symbols. He knew that one of them would be a cross.
Slaughterine reacted with a start, and blasted lightning at Buttercup. Her bolts arced out, striking the axe and her arm, and she dropped the smoking, charred weapon with a cry of pain. The man slowed, turning in concern, as Slaughterine enveloped him in lightning too. The man, however, barely seemed to notice, although his spear caught fire and the head seemed to char and melt under the heat.
The samurai-woman got to her too fast, and as Iconoclast backed away in fear, the katana whipped around and severed Slaughterine's arm. She screamed, and with a wave of her other arm sent arcs of red lightning into the samurai. It was the samurai's turn to cry out, as her clothing and body burned under the fierce bolts. The woman fell to the ground, and Slaughterine whimpered, clutching her bleeding stump.
Iconoclast felt his fear draining away. Their weapons.... they were destroyed. The symbols charred. They could do nothing to hurt him now.
Buttercup rose to her feet, burns and injuries healing. The man was completely unharmed, but looked concerned at the fallen samurai. She didn't move, her body burned and her sword a charred, twisted mess. The man lifted his hand, and the samurai began floating through the air, to rest behind them. Iconoclast scowled at Slaughterine, "Cauterise your wound and stop whining!" She looked angry, but with a flash of light she did so.
Iconoclast grew thicker skin, sharper claws, and spiny ridges along his shoulders and back. Soon he was a beast of thick, corded muscle, like a nightmare given form. "I will kill you both! I will end you like the monsters you truly are!" He charged.
His charge was foiled at the last minute as both of his opponents took to the sky, hovering above and behind him. He felt a great force take over him, and he was mentally yanked backwards by the male Epic. Slaughterine shot a bolt of scarlet lightning skywards, only narrowly missing Buttercup as she swooped towards her, fists at the ready. Iconoclast turned, and with a powerful jump leaped at the male. The man looked shocked as he sailed towards him, and could barely react before clawed fists wrapped around his arms. A normal man would have had his limbs ripped off, but Iconoclast could tell that this Epic had a powerful form of resilience. Perhaps invulnerability. But he was not super strong, and he was unable to pry the monster off of him. Reaching up, Iconoclast tried to rip his face apart, but his claws skated off the skin and eyes without so much as a scratch.
Buttercup soared towards Slaughterine, but a hail of red lightning knocked her to the ground. As she healed her charred skin, Slaughterine staggered forwards and prepared to unleash another blast.
Seeing this, the man showed real concern, and waved his free hand to send Slaughterine flying backwards. Seizing on this, Iconoclast wrenched himself upwards, catching the man in a great, crushing hug and dragging the distracted Epic to the ground. Still, he suffered no damage, but was now pinned underneath the insane Epic. Iconoclast laughed as he formed an iron grip around the man's arms. The male Epic glared at him, and his laugh died as he felt a great force pushing him away. The sudden wrenching force was too great, and his fingers were smashed or ripped off as he was thrown off the Epic and onto the street. He crashed into the tar, and staggered to his feet. He saw the man rise as well, staring him down as behind him, Buttercup rose to her feet.
Iconoclast grinned. "Why do you fight for them, mysterious Epic? You could do so much for yourself! Whether or not you serve me! Go and take what you want in this city of ruins! Live this beautiful collapse! Instead you try, futilely, to stem this inevitable change?"
The male shook his head. "My name is Argon. And I am better than that."
Suddenly, a gaggle of ghouls emerged from between two nearby houses. The ghouls sniffed the air, and soon saw the combat happening. With growls, they charge towards the fresh meat. Argon, Buttercup and Slaughterine turned in surprise as screaming ghouls descended upon them. Iconoclast laughed, and leaped forward. Distracted, Argon didn't see him coming- and they both crashed to the ground as Argon was brought to the ground. Iconoclast bashed his head into the street, and with another powerful leap, sprang up towards Buttercup, who was fighting his ghouls nearby. Argon tried to rise, but two ghouls sprang onto him and brought him back down.
Buttercup easily killed her ghouls, while Iconoclast directed them away from Slaughterine. Buttercup turned to see Iconoclast in his thorny horror descend upon her. He slashed open her chest, but she gritted her teeth and retaliated with a green-glowing punch that shattered his shoulder. They both immediately began healing, and trade more blows. Iconoclast slashes while Buttercup strikes, both leaving injuries that barely last. Slaughterine turns to see them slashing at each other, and Iconoclast sees her aim bolts behind them- at Argon, presumably.
Iconoclast reaches forward, clutching his hands around her neck. She falls backwards, and he pins her to the ground as she punches his arms, shattering the bone. But his claws still dig into her neck, and the broken bones heal quickly. Buttercup's face turns red, and she gasps for breath. Iconoclast grins. "Where is Rainmaker, little Epic?" His expression becomes less gleeful, and more.... angry. "Where is your little god? Where is she?! Do you pray to her? Beg her to save you? Well today you learn that there are no gods!!! There is nothing above... except me!!!"
Suddenly the sound of static and electricity cut out, and Slaughterine fell to the ground in the corner of his vision. Iconoclast was wrenched out of his rage, and he turned to see that a throwing knife was embedded in her throat. Her sightless eyes stared upwards, and a thin trail of blood crept out of her mouth, to match the fountain gushing from her neck. Where... where had they gotten the throwing knife?
He heard footsteps behind him, and turned to see Argon standing nearby. Behind Argon, the samurai woman had risen weakly to her knees, and she held a gleaming katana in her hands. Flawless, except for the crude cross carved into the blade.
Iconoclast went ice cold, and froze as she threw the sword to Argon, him catching it easily with his telekinesis. The cross etched into the blade seemed to glow, and enlarge, becoming a blazing image in his vision. A little whimper escaped him as he rose, releasing Buttercup. Argon looked at him with hard eyes, and the sword hovered in the air, rotating to point directly at Iconoclast.
Iconoclast felt tears begin to well in his eyes. "damnation.... damnation tear ducts.." he whispered. "I... I removed you...."
With that, Argon flicked his wrist, and the sword shot through the air like a javelin, impaling him through the stomach with a grunt. Pain exploded in him for the first time in what felt like forever, and he fell to his knees. Tears streamed down his face, and that infernal cross burned in his vision. Buttercup rose behind him, and Argon strode forward, but he barely noticed them. He felt himself change. His face reshaped, his hair changed colour, and his body shrunk back to its original form. His original face, and his original body. He felt the blade in him twist brutally as Argon worked it with his powers. Roger Moore cast his eyes downwards, and he saw a piece of shattered glass on the street, right below him. Reflected in it, for the first time in years, he saw his real face. "Do you...." He coughed, and blood came out. Buttercup walked around to his front, bruised and bloodied neck still healing, and with a growl, she ripped the sword out of him.
Roger Moore gasped in pain, and his blood covered the street. It covered the glass, and he could no longer see himself. His vision began to darken, and in the darkness he thought he saw Mary smiling down upon him. "Do you think...." He looked up at them. "Do you think Mary will... like this face?" He closed his eyes, falling forward.
And finally, Roger felt no more pain. Ever again.