The Lancer raced down the sidewalk like a madman. It was a beautiful Thursday morning in Tremorton and most of the citizens were spending it in the park or going for a nice walk around town.
He was spending it running for his life.
He had just robbed the Tremorton National Bank. He was doing a good job of it—pointing his lance at the frightened citizens who were there making deposits. He stood tall and spoke loudly and clearly, making sure that everyone could hear him. He had demanded that the bank tellers kindly deposit everything they had in the bank into his sack before he blasted them to smithereens with his horse's laser. They were very cooperative and placed all of the banks money into his sack. The Lancer was quite pleased with the outcome. It just goes to show that a person could make an honest living as long as they had a deadly and powerful weapon to help them achieve their dreams.
What a great day! He was successfully robbing the largest bank in Tremorton, the town's hero was nowhere to be seen, and in just a few moments he was going to be the richest villain in the world. Behind his helmet, he smiled happily. Everything was going so well.
That is, until one of the bank tellers had secretly pressed the alarm underneath the counter ledge.
He immediately fled the scene. He should have vaporized that stupid bank teller right there on the spot! But he knew that in a matter of minutes the police would show up and he didn't want his good day to be ruined so quickly. As he fled, he counted the amount of cash that he had illegally acquired. It amounted to almost several hundred thousand dollars. He growled. He had barely taken anything from there! Oh well, he would simply have to come back when the heat died down.
As he zoomed down the sidewalk, the sound of rocket engines filled the air above him. He didn't have to look up to know who was chasing him. They weren't the sounds of the town's Sky Patrol vehicles. No; they were the rockets that belonged to the one thing that all of Tremorton's villains hated most.
He sped up his rocket powered horse and zoomed ahead of his pursuer. Pedestrians and civilians ducked out of his way. Those who didn't were flung out onto the road; some ended up on top of vendor carts and others were trampled underneath the runaway criminal. The Lancer needed to buy some time for him to escape. He picked up a civilian — a business man who just happened to be walking in front of the Lancer unknown of the danger he was in — and threw him into the path of his pursuer. He picked up a few other items — a cat, a dog, a flower pot, and a baby carriage — and threw them as well. That should buy me a few minutes. It's a good thing that the goody two shoes hero loves to help those in trouble. Sucker!
His celebration was short lived. His expression grew nervous when the rocket engines sounded close. Really close! He panicked and quickly looked for a place to hide.
His eyes scanned the area up ahead. What good fortune! An open alleyway! With haste, he made a sharp left turn into the alley. He turned his head at his pursuer. Ha-ha! Yes! No rocket engines could be heard! Now, all he had to do was navigate his way out of the alley and out of the city and he was home free!
He turned his head back around, expecting to see the alley opening and his one way ticket to freedom.
He bumped the breaks and nearly crashed. He looked up in shock at the massive wall of brick that lay in front of him.
"A dead end!?" He cried out in frustration. He could try to fly over the wall, but hover horse was made to hover a few feet in the air.
The faint sound of rocket engines landing on the pavement and the soft scrape metallic feet walking in his direction caught his ears. He whipped around and thrust his lance forward in a fighting position.
His pursuer stopped and remained under the shadows. Only the eyes were visible.
"XJ9," He hissed, "You may have found me, but you will not catch me so easily!" His horses horn parted open and fired.
A blue laser shot out from within the shadows and evaporated right through the Lancer's laser, striking him with an electrical surge, like lightning striking an umbrella. The medieval knight fell to the ground with a clunk and groaned in pain. His armor emitted a thin trail of smoke. He tried to reactivate his equipment but it failed, spitting out a few electrical sparks.
"My weapons! My rocket!" He glared through his mask. "So, you have a few new toys up your robotic sleeve, hmm? It doesn't matter. Come out of the shadows so that you may face the Lancer, instead of hiding like a coward."
His pursuer stepped out of the shadows and faced him. He expected to see the sky blue armored brat say a little quip before hauling off to jail.
"Wait," The Lancer said, confused, "you're not XJ9!"
The mysterious figure was hard to see, since it was covered mostly by the shadows, but what the Lancer could see was not the body of the local town teenage crime fighting superhero, XJ9. He only saw the bottom part of what appeared to be a black robe. It looked almost like metal.
The figures eyes narrowed. A weapon appeared from the robe's sleeve. It wasn't like any weapon the Lancer ever saw before. Mostly because the robe was hiding it. But the barrel opening of the weapon was visible...and it was glowing blue...and it hummed, like it was warming up, getting ready to —
"No! Wait! What are you—!?"
The weapon fired, its bright blue light emitting from the alley way.
The figure lowered the weapon.
Where the Lancer once lay was now only a scorch mark on the ground.
WARNING! This story may not be suitable for most people.
This story will be discussing a little about school shootings. Nothing graphic, but it may make you uncomfortable.
This story takes place after Season 3.