Silhouette frowned as Knox paused, crouched in the dark, just beneath the window of the penthouse they were outside of. Usually, being this high up on the outside of a building was rather inadvisable, as one had a tendency to fall and die.
However, Knox’s constructs were solid as ever, and held fast against the wind pushing against the two men.
Knox peeked in through the window, then let out a low whistle. “Holy stars,” he whispered towards silhouette, trying out some of the slang in this city. “You were right. This guy is definitely a high roller.”
Silhouette walked up the construct, very conscious of the edge of the construct ramp they stood on. Looking in, he saw what was either the abode of an epic or a very, very important maple. Statues lined the hallways, with four large screens playing various intense looking shows facing a man sitting on s couch. Rich carpet lined the floor, and full length mirrors covered half of the wall of the room.
Using gestures to convey his plan, silhouette began to chart his course. He let his mind leave his body, and planned his route. It was a strange feeling; he felt like two people at once. He could still move himself in the regular world, but to his mind a shadow version of himself began to move through the wall, prowling the room until it came to a rest standing just behind the man on the couch.
Silhouette released his minds hold on the shadow, and instantly disappeared into the same figure. He entered a mindless state, capable only of following the orders he had just given himself, unthinking. He came back to the physical world just behind the man on the couch, still engrossed by the televisions, watching some sort of superhero show. Ironic.
Silhouette silently raised a fist and prepared to strike the man in the chair, truly looking at him for the first time. He was a big man, dark skinned and slightly overweight, wearing an expensive suit and a handful of rings.
So useless, thought silhouette to himself. All this needless extravagance, taken from the poor. Men like this needed to be punished. All excess brought was pain to others. All silhouette brought was pain to excess, and those who enjoyed it.
He brought his fist down on the mans head, his steel studded gloves flying downwards with enough force to kill the man easily. It was a blow silhouette had struck too many times, on too many unsuspecting men not deserving of their surroundings. Easy.
Silhouettes hand hurtled sideways as it drew near the large mans head, so unexpected it almost threw him off balance. The man chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound. He slowly turned around and got up, cracking his knuckles as he faced Silhouette, who stood ready, black clothes loose and arms up in his usual boxing pose.
“Come to kill me after double take, little reckoner?” asked the big man. Silhouette had to admit there was a certain...gravity to this man. A charisma of confidence surpassing an epic ability.
Although clearly this was an Epic. Silhouette felt a sudden pang of regret at not doing his research on tonight’s target. It has been so long since his last retribution, he had simply jumped at the chance to end the life of the penthouse owner.
“I’m no reckoner, buddy. You have sins to pay.”
Silhouette became a shadow again, reappearing behind the man and once again throwing a perfect strike at his back. Again, he was thrown away, the stumble barely saving him from a couch that seemed to fall towards him. He felt a pull on himself, taking him towards the epic as the big man wound up his arm, rings flashing in the little remaining light. Silhouette managed to enter his shadow form just before the fist connected, but reappeared a moment later in the same place, not having had time to plan a route.
The move had managed to free him of the strange telekinesis this epic seemed to possess, though, and Silhouette took advantage of the fact to try to start grappling the larger man. The man chuckled again, looking down on him condescendingly. “I believe you now. No reckoner would be so underprepared, especially to face me. Doubletake requires preparation for them, but me? Orbit? I would need ten times that.” Most of the words meant nothing to silhouette, who couldn’t touch the man. His hands were pushed away whenever they came near the big man-Orbit, he had called himself-but that didn’t stop Orbit from raising his fist and ramming it towards silhouette. He didn’t follow through, however, so when Silhouette disappeared and reappeared a moment later, Orbit was ready with another hit, sending silhouette sprawling.
Silhouette groaned and put his hand to his jaw. Definitely broken, he thought to himself. He poked it again, and twinged. Very broken, he corrected himself. He began to feel himself fall laterally towards the big epic, face rubbing against the expensive carpet. Orbit raised a foot to crush his head in, but a pair of gunshots cracked through the air first, distracting the big Epic. Both bullets curved around the big epic and began circling him as Orbit regarded Knox.
“Two of you? Anyone else I should be expecting?” Orbit breathed deeply. “I will say I like your outfit more.”
Unlike Silhouette, who wore simple dark, loose fitting clothing and some smudges of soot on his face for added stealth on his pale skin, Knox had a flair for the dramatic. He wore a white hoodie with white jeans, but by far the biggest attention drawer was his mask. A strip of gold covered his lower face line a handkerchief, concealing his mouth, and a a pair of black sunglasses his eyes silhouette knew would be glinting at the idea of this challenge. While Silhouette fought to punish the gluttonous, Knox fought for the rush.
Orbit whipped the bullets towards Knox with a gesture, but Knox raised a hand, creating a wall construct. He threw down a ramp, darting above orbit, and quickly fired another round from both of his desert eagles, to no effect. Orbit latched onto him, somehow causing Knox to fall towards orbit, rather than downwards. Knox created another ramp to stand on, and quickly boxed in orbit, who started cursing softly from within the walls Knox had placed. Objects began being thrown around the room as Orbit changed gravity all around them, but both silhouette and Knox managed to avoid being caught fully; silhouette through shadowing, and Knox by creating walls and platforms to catch himself on.
He soon figured out that phasing through his own constructs-he couldn’t do it to regular walls, regrettably-stopped the gravity from affecting him for a moment.
“I say we torch it and get out,” Knox said to a still-tender silhouette. “I don’t know if we can take this guy today.”
The only response was the striking of a match by silhouette, the bright orange flame sharply contrasting his dark attire and pale skin. It makes his face look almost like a ghost, thought knox idly.
As the place started to go up, the usually nigh-indestructible walls of Knox’s construct were pulled in by a massive epicentre of gravity. The rubble squeezed around him as he ran over to his couch, picking up his mobile. The flames had already consumed much of the penthouse; it would be a bother to get a New one. The two pesky Epics were gone, but they hadn’t beaten him. He had felt in control until that bastard had trapped him, rather than fighting like a man.
Still, this was only a minor inconvenience. Orbit ran through the burning apartment, pushing away any burning objects, grabbing what he would need to move.
Orbit cursed, his calm demeanour destroyed in an instant. He raised himself well above the building and scanned the dark streets for the two thieving bastards. They were gone.
And they had his AmberLight.
Orbit dialed Machete’s number. His head of enforcement would be on this until that crate was found. The Belt needed that crate. Orbit needed that crate.
“Machete? Meet me at the penthouse. I have some Epics for you to kill. They have something of ours.”