"Activation plus six minutes. Pulse is forty-five, respiration ten. Looking good, Cole."
He watched the Ray Sphere detonate, exploding in a corona of diaphanous blue light and engulfing Empire City. The blast sent rippling shockwaves across the rooftops, ruffling his white coat, yet hurling buses into the air and flattening apartments. Where he stood, he was safe. He'd been waiting for this for a long time. Too long.
He checked his cell phone. On it was Cole MacGrath's - the other Cole MacGrath's - number and personal details. He'd been tracking that man, noting everything down in preparation, unsatisfied with the hand he'd been dealt. He had to change the future before it was too late.
Taking one last glance at Cole's splayed, burnt body, he moved away, jumping off the rooftop and hearing the dying sirens of cars and people alike. He swiftly created static in the air beneath his hands, and glided smoothly to a cable connected to a pylon. For a moment, he expected to grind against it, propelling himself forward using the electricity; however, that thought was brutally crushed when he realised the electricity had temporarily blacked-out. Great. Nevertheless, he'd trained himself not to rely on the grid, thus he did not need to recharge himself whenever he used up his power. He had other methods to regain it.
He sprinted across the cable and leapt off the pylon, flying to yet another building and climbing up with ease. People lay on the ground, either dead or moaning in agony, but he didn't have the time to deal with them. Soon, Cole would wake, and then the true test would begin. From then onwards, he would have to keep an even closer eye on him. He couldn't let that man get out of control. Not now.
Empire City became even more of a playground than it was before the blast; he managed to cross the Historic District into the Warren within minutes. There, he knew Alden Tate was lurking. The former leader of the First Sons was biding his time, waiting to strike back. Or was he? Kessler almost didn't care any more. But he had to be cautious. Any mistakes, and the whole plan would be screwed up. That meant finding Alden and keeping tabs on him. Perhaps not at the moment, when he had more pressing matters, but certainly soon.
More people dead on the streets. The Ray Sphere had barely detonated, and the plague had already spread. So quickly too, he mused. Sebastian had warned him, of course, but he admitted that he didn't expect the effects to be so...rapid. The people vomited on the tarmac, clawing for support or gurgling like children. Well, these children served a higher purpose.
On top of one particular building, he saw a small satellite dish, grey in colour, beeping in some sort of pattern. The high-pitched sound annoyed him, and he opened his palm, electricity crackling between his fingers, when he decided against it. Everything had its purpose, and he had a feeling a colleague of his - a man named John White - had something to do with it. He left it and carried on.
He had work to do, and lots of it.