He had been trained for this.
Since the 1990s, he'd been perfecting the art of spycraft. With every passing year, another successful summer endeavour only sharpened his skills.
Tom Cruise was a dangerous man made of very deadly people: Ethan, Knight, Reacher, the list was ever-growing. He'd linked himself to numerous variations of what he could have been, he himself the hub of those countless possibilities.
In this world, a recognized actor was whomever they wanted to be.
In this universe, an accomplished artist was truly a terrifying force with which to be reckoned.
Soaring through the cover of night, Cruise zipped through the Atlanta skies, breaking cable and relaunching his grappling hooks at buildings and billboard signs as he came closer to the wicked facility. The church where his daughter and former wife were being held captive.
"Siri-chan, Kate... I'm coming!" His teeth tightened as he entered fully into the mindstate of Ethan.
Tom catapulted himself through the air like a cannonball, tucking into a tight somersault as a handful of high-frequency grenades left his hands, flew forward and silently shattered the stained-glass windows keeping him from the interior.
He went into free-fall; shooting in rapid descent down toward the base of the inside of tower as he simultaneously launched a tether to the ceiling. Right before hitting the laser-grid protected marble floors, Tom activated his harness and anchored firmly, stopping just a hair's length short of the grid.
He still hadn't lost his touch.
"Veeeeery impressive, Tommy," cooed a suave, self-assured voice over a loud speaker.
The grid disappeared. A shot rang out as Tom's cable snapped; Cruise rolled into a sharp three-point stance as he landed and smoothly spun into a 12-6, with akimbo pistols aimed outwards in opposing directions.
Tom was surrounded. Men and women in spacesuits packed the room, each holding a stunrod and a submachine gun.
"You just couldn't stay away, could you?" The voice bellowed. "You should know that no matter how hard you try, Mapother, you can't escape Scientology."
Tom switched to Jack Reacher mode, his muscles growing stronger and more solid as opposed to Ethan's Spartan and wiry frame. Reacher's voice roared through the room, his cold fury igniting the air.
"If I don't see my family in five seconds, I'll put a hole in every fucking head in this room. Five. Four..."
His right hand M1911A1 settled on a familiar figure at the top of the crowd, a tall blue-suited figure sauntering down the stairs. The man's dark brown forehead and flat-top were obscured by the mind-controlling helmet that covered his head.
"I don't think you understand," Will Smith said as he donned the beanie of Hancock. Tom fired a round between the man's eyes as the knitted cap settled into place. But as the lead flattened and bounced harmlessly to the side, Tom knew he was in for a wild ride.
"Tom," Hancock Smith started as he smiled downward with crimson eyes. Will began to levitate as Tom pointed both guns forward.
Will Smith smiled as the entire tower began to tremble.
"I have the high ground."