He hadn't even been in the city an hour before someone tried to shoot him.
They should have known better. Timelock's danger sense kicked in, and the world around him froze, allowing him to see and avoid the bullet that had been speeding towards his head.
He glanced around, noting the sniper on a nearby rooftop, then casually stepped to the side. As soon as he was clear of the bullet, time sped back to normal and the projectile flew past his head.
Timelock pulled out his own firearm and carefully fired three shots at where the gunman had been hiding. He missed, of course. You could hardly expect to hit anything so far away with a pistol. That hadn't been the point. He was sending a message: I know you're there. Don't mess with me.
Timelock, an Epic once known to the fine people of the world as Charles Frederick Williamson, had entered Astoria, possibly one of the most dangerous cities this side of the Rocky Mountains. He noticed with some confusion that the sky, despite it being late evening, was tinted a peculiar shade of green, and that various chunks of the city seemed to be crusted with what looked like diamonds.
He strode forward, ignoring the oddities for the time being, and surveyed the buildings ahead. He could see the faces of the plains as they huddled in their homes, watching from behind curtains. Those faces vanished as he drew close.
Such fear, he thought. Turf wars among Epics had not done good things for the state of Oregon.
He walked up to one of the buildings, a nice hotel, and walked in, passing the check-in desk by. The receptionist looked as though he was going to object, but something in Timelock's demeanor convinced him otherwise. Timelock walked over to the elevator, hit the button and waited.
The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, revealing a group of plains who started at the sight of him and rushed out. Amused, Timelock stepped in and hit the button for the highest floor.
Minutes later, he was at the door of a handsome suite. He knocked.
A man in a black suit trimmed with red answered it. Gravitas, otherwise known as Caleb Johnson, one of Timelock's old college friends. Upon seeing Timelock, he showed a rare smile. "Frederick!" he said. "Good to see you! Good to see you. Come in, please."
Timelock did so.