I just finished playing inFamous after developing an obsession with the upcoming sequel. Naturally, I checked out the fanfiction, and was quite frankly appalled. Only twenty-seven fics, and of those none with even 15k words! My duty as a writer and gamer alike compels me to write a decent oneshot at the very least. Et voila!


Because of me, Empire City is a wasteland. I've taken this place down notch by notch, and it's never getting up again.. Kessler thought he was preparing me for some beast, that I'd be using my powers for the greater good. What an idiot. These powers are only good for one thing, and that's getting what I want, when I want. In a place with no law, the strong take what they want, and the weak are their slaves, their playthings. And no one's stronger than me…


The sky shone a deep blood-red, the light shining at just the right angle to make everything bright light and dark shadow only. Dark clouds stretched across the horizon, almost as if the heavens had been scarred. It was quite unnatural, as if some cosmic vandal had taken blood and smoke and painted over the clear blue that had been there before.

It was more than just the sky that had people on edge. You had but to turn an ear to notice what was really wrong. Silence. In a city of millions, there was utter quiet. What people that actually braved the streets did so uneasily. They walked hunched, terrified. They walked like frightened animals sure that a hungry predator was about to jump around the corner and gobble them up.

They weren't entirely incorrect.

The few times the silence was broken, it was by the sharp retort of a gun or the chilling screams of the dying. Empire City was no longer a city, but a jungle. The masses huddled in fear and prayed for safety, as small pockets of gangs wandered the streets, trying to limp on despite being crippled by a much worse terror than them.

The Reapers, the Dust Men, the First Son. Each group held power. The Reapers with their plague of tar and suicidal nature, the Dust Men with their armor of junk and legion of the desperate, the First Sons with their advanced tech and special powers. In the hellish three weeks since the blast, these three groups had become drunk on power, ruling their respective islands with iron fists.

But a blade of steel had come and decapitated each, brought them to ruin. Sasha, the mistress of the Reapers, had been kidnapped and imprisoned. Alden, the war hero of the Dust Men, had disappeared, presumed dead in his failed invasion of the Historic District. And Kessler, leader of the esoteric First Sons, had been killed by a weapon of his own making.

That weapon roamed the streets, spreading mayhem and misery whither he went. Before, he had been a nobody, just another citizen of Empire City. But the blast had given him power. Power enough to capture the city back from the gangs single-handedly. Power that he had used to conquer, to replace chaos with his authority, and authority that killed all who dared oppose it.

Empire City had a king, and his name was Cole MacGrath.


I ran across the roof, feeling no fear of the drop. I leapt into the open space, allowing gravity to have me for a few short moments. Then I defied it, like I had so many laws. I open my hands, and electricity rushed out. The air beneath my arms became dense, excited by the static rushing out of my body. I changed the angle of my fall, veering to the left.

My feet, with the skill of long practice, hit the power cable. Lighting sprung up around my feet, latching onto the metal. The two equal forces repelled, lifting me oh so slightly off the surface. I sped across, magnetism my chariot as I moved faster than a speeding car over the ground.

I flared my senses, sending power out into the air. Information rushed into my brain. I knew that there was a generator on the roof of the building I was speeding towards. I knew that a Blast Shard was somewhere off to my left, the energy in the hunk of rock resonating on the same frequency as my own.

And I felt the presence of my target, just below me.

I leapt from the cable, momentum carrying me forward as I sped towards the ground. The impact would have killed me just a month ago. Now I barely felt it, the energy within me shrugging off the damage, repairing it before it even registered.

I spun around, my eyes narrowing with focus as the world slow down. A Conduit of the First Sons faced me, frozen in a brief moment of shock at my sudden arrival. He wasn't invisible yet; I'd caught him off guard. A second later, he'd remember the giant riot gun in his hand and try to turn my chest to hamburger. Then he'd focus his mind, bend the light around him with the aid of his suit to blend like a chameleon with the environment. He'd sneak behind me as I picked myself back up, then appear for an instant before taking another shot. He'd continued to due this, acting the wolf until I fell dead at his feet.

I didn't give him that second.

A narrow and intense bolt of lightning, black as my hardened heart, shot out of my readied hand. The raw electricity firmly impacted his gun. The gunpowder caught, and the shotgun exploded in the Conduit's hands. A cloud of shrapnel spread out, mostly hitting the Conduit. He roared in pain through his gas mask, meant to protect him from the tainted airs of the city.

Some of the flying metal came my way. It hit an invisible wall, disintegrating as I absorbed the energy of its flight. I dropped the shield, rushing forward towards the dazed Conduit. I jabbed with my right fist, black lighting covering the arm. The instant it impacted his chest, the Conduit flew through the air, the strength of my arm backed up by a few thousand volts of electricity.

The guy landed, utterly helpless. Between the shrapnel and being tased, he was out. I casually walked toward him, letting lighting arc around my palms absentmindedly. I crouched down and ripped the mask right off the Conduit.

He was middle-aged, the brown of his air slowly losing the war against grey, lines creeping into his face. His eyes held fear, and I reveled in it. It was such a rush, knowing that you were in control, that you could change the world around you however you wanted, make people do whatever you wanted. Kessler had wanted me to make 'impossible' decisions. 'Impossible' only means shit when you have morals.

I looked the man in the eye, letting him see me and realize the danger he was in. I'd seen my reflection a few times. Even I'll admit it's a bit creepy. My skin had paled until it was pallid as a corpse, the lightning shaping me from within to reflect my nature. My clothes with caked with dirt and blood that would never come out. My eyes were flat and almost reptilian with their lack of emotion. And to top it all off, dead, black flesh covered my head and neck and pretty much my entire body with patterns like lightning bolts.

Sure, in the right lighting and minus all the clothes, I'd probably look like some kind of avenging angel. I killed that thought off almost as soon as I had it. With Trish dead and my enemies defeated, I'd had time to reflect on just how long it had been since I'd gotten laid. I couldn't let that affect me, though.

I grabbed the man's head, holding it between my hands. I let just enough electricity leak through to make him uncomfortable. "Here's how it's going to work," I said, making myself as menacing as I could. The guy looked like he was about to wet himself. "You're going to tell me what I want to know. All you get to decide is how painful I'm going to make it."

The man gulped, but he was a fanatic. The First Sons was practically a cult, and cult's are all about the secrecy. "D-Do you're worst, monster," he said. He probably tried to sound defiant, but all I heard was a guy hoping for a quick death.

I grinned, and he broke out into a cold sweat. "Alright, then." Standing up, I brought energy to my hands and lowered them towards his chest. The pulse flew out, the electricity reaching out and healing him as it did for me.

The man's eyes widened with surprise. I let him feel hope for a small moment, before I kicked him right in the ribs. He flew through the air, hissing in pain. I walked forward, my hands glowing once more. Again I healed him. He looked at me with confusion as he tried to get to his feet. Then I zapped him.

And on it went. I healed him, then hurt him, then healed him again. It was a vicious cycle, and one that I could keep up forever. I inflicted pain with one hand, and took it away with the other. Oh so slowly, the man would come to fear the healing. It would sink into his brain that the ending of the pain only promised more. He would fight it, but his mind would eventually snap under my endless torture. And just before he cracked, the instant before he came to long for the pain and run from the healing, that's when he would tell me what I wanted. Or I'd just kill him and suck the info out of his dead brain. Whichever was more fun.

We were in an alley, my new friend and I. We weren't going to be interrupted, though. Any First Son that tried to save their comrade would die before they could do anything, and the regular citizens had long learned that trying to stone me ended with extreme levels of pain.

It took about an hour. I watched as the man started to weep, crying in defeat and utter vulnerability as I continued to drive him to death's door and back. He started moaning around the half-hour mark. At forty-five, he started to whisper "Please stopstopstopstopstop," I stopped once he started whimpering like an animal.

I put my foot on his foot and threw power down at him. In an instant, he was held down with my lightning, chained by magnetism to the metal beneath our feet. I gripped his head for the second time, jerking his head to make him face me. His eyes were so wide I could probably have seen the whites from a roof. His pupils were fully dilated, and they shook with jittery hysteria. There was still reason there, but just barely.

"Let's try this again," I said, this time casually. He was so close to the edge that any attempt at extra scariness might make him tip over. "Can I ask you something? Tell me the truth, and I'll make it stop."

The man was too weak to nod, but he tried. I tightened my grip subconsciously. I'd done this routine twice already. I'd been banking on the idea that since this guy was a Conduit, he'd have more of a clue than the cannon fodder. If he didn't, then I'd be out of luck. Which was bad. If I didn't find out what I needed, then shit would really hit the fan. Oh, and I might throw a tantrum and go on a killing spree.

"Where is Sasha?" I asked.


I walked down the streets, enjoying the way the people who saw me cowered and ran away. I'd gotten what I wanted from the Conduit. Then I'd zapped him in the head. Bastard didn't feel a thing. But, hey, he'd never hurt again.

As it turned out, Sasha had been stored in the same complex as the Ray Sphere. She'd been kept in an airtight room, with concrete walls and a burglar door, the kind with steel backing that can stop a battering ram. She was hooked up to an oxygen mask when Kessler was milking her for his blimps, so she was probably still alive after John's gas attack.

I grinned. Though Sasha had once tried to kill me, she'd paid me back twice over. She'd comforted me, helped me take over the city with her minions even as her body was imprisoned. I owed her, and she would be damn useful in keeping the city in check. I pictured Moya trying to storm the city, only to meet an army of Reapers.

My grin disappeared. Moya. She'd used me, manipulated me so she could get her hands on the Ray Sphere. Too bad for her that it was gone with her 'husband'. Oh yeah, I was going to hunt her down. And then she'd pay. From there, I'd find out who was calling her shots, and kill them too. Maybe it was DARPA like Zeke said.

I looked down, my body stopping as I coped with the emotions that surged through me as I thought of Zeke. The man was practically family. We'd met through work, and we'd bonded almost immediately. His sloppiness and conspiracy theories were funny, and his antics were a great way to spice up a boring day. Hell, it'd been Zeke that introduced him to Trish. Well, dragging me to the hospital for treatment after a climbing accident wasn't exactly the best introduction, but it had been Zeke's efforts that led to me meeting Trish.

But Zeke had burned me. When the Ray Sphere was in his hands, he'd let his jealousy and insecurities take over. He'd abandoned me, just when I'd needed him most. And then he'd stuck by Kessler as Trish fell to her death.

My mind flashed to the closet in my apartment. I remembered the dinky little engagement ring I'd hidden under the floorboards. I was going to propose on her birthday. And then all this had happened. I felt shame, but also anger. I'd done all of this for her! I'd killed crime, secured food, chosen her life over the lives of thousands! And she thought I'd been selfish. Maybe I had been, but I'd been selfish for her. Trish had been mine, goddamn it.

I pushed Trish out of my head. Things were shaky with Zeke, but the guy had risked his life for me. He'd walked out with a gun towards Kessler, the one man in Empire City more powerful than me, all to help me out. Cause that's what friends do. It would take a while to forgive him, and there'd probably always be some part of me that felt bitter. But Zeke was my friend, the same way this was my city. Call me possessive, but I take care of what's mine.

I gave a dry laugh at that thought. Well, maybe I was abusive with that care. But it was still care.

I was just about to get moving again when the sting for US News sounded from the TV store across the street. I headed over, curious to see what vainglorious bullshit version of what really happened the government was going to feed today. The logo flashed across the screen, before a pretty redhead with too little make-up popped up on the screen.

"The CDC announced today that a cure has been developed for the Empire City Plague. The cure has shown a ninety-nine percent success rate, and the side effects are comparatively mild. The government has announced that the cure, administered through a single shot, will be given to the citizens of Empire City tomorrow. The quarantine is expected to be lifted in just one short week. Don't worry Empire City, the end is near!" With that, the screen went dark.

A chill went up my spine. There was no way the government would let the people go. They knew too much, and the Voice of Survival had filled their heads with mistrust. Moya wouldn't allow it. In a flash, I remembered the jets being hit by the AA guns along with John when we'd gone for the Ray Sphere. Strange, I knew it was only yesterday, but it felt like a lifetime ago. Focusing, I remembered Moya's call. She'd said the jets had been clearing the way… the way for an invasion.

So that was the cure. And the news lady had been right: it did only take one shot to fix the problem. One gunshot.

I ran for the train tracks. All of a sudden, finding Sasha was a lot more urgent than I expected.


I walked right into the building. Apparently, a gas attack is a very strong deterrent to maintaining a base. There wasn't a soul in sight. I wandered through the rooms, waiting for some clue as to where Sasha was. Out of nowhere, a familiar smothering feeling covered me.

How loving you are to me, Cole. You've come to rescue me. So come, sweep me off my feet. I'm right at the end of the hall.

My head cleared. In a way, I hated that feeling. I hated feeling like I'd lost control, but I had no choice to when Sasha got into my head like that.

Well, them's the breaks.

I spied the door. It looked about as solid as a bank vault, utterly locked and impregnable. Smirking to myself, I took aim. I gathered energy into a solid sphere, and launched it forward. The ball hit the door, denting it with the power behind it. Then the real show started, as the grenades hidden in the hammer exploded, blowing the door right off its hinges.

I walked forward into the room beyond, and there she was.

Sasha was lean and statuesque in a way you only really see in 'special' dreams. Her red cloak clung to her like an erotic costume, covering just enough to escape indecency while daring you to see what was beneath. Her eyes were wide, dilated until I could barely see any whites at all. She licked her lips as I came in, her tongue oddly long and pointed.

She was strapped to a bed, the kind you see in hospitals. Tubes were stuck all over her body, leeching a deep black sludge, the tar that let her into people's heads. A pillow propped her head up, an unexpected kindness.

"My, you look lovely. Your look, it just gives me… tingles." Her voice was low and sultry, like a cat's purr. It hit me worse than when she did her mental talk. The sound of her voice went right past my ears and into my blood, exciting me, making me burn with hunger and need so primal it could not be denied.

I got a hold of myself. Focusing, I strode forward. Her eyes watched me the whole way, intent in a way that was admittedly unnerving. There wasn't any reason in those eyes. Maybe there never had been.

I went to her side, and reached out. I held her face between my hands, the softness of her skin very enticing. She purred. "My, so forward. I like that. But could you be a dear and get these annoying things off? I swear, I'll make it up to you." She strained against her bonds to make a point, moving her body in a sinuous way that immediately set Cole on fire.

I smiled… before digging my fingers into her face. Her eyes widened as I brought my power to bear, causing goose bumps to rise up across her skin. "You've been very nice to me, Sasha," I said, before looking her in the eye. I stopped the act and showed her exactly what I was: not an obedient puppy, but a violent ruler. She shivered.

"But we have to work some things in our relationship out. I know you're used to calling the shots, but that isn't going to happen. I'm in charge here, not you. I may be king, but you're not my queen. I'm never gonna share power with you. You serve me. Got it?" I grinned evilly. Now I see where all those rapists come from. There was a deep, dark thrill in threatening her, in imposing my will over hers to get what I want.

Sasha didn't take it well. To be more accurate, she screamed at me, her tongue splitting into quarters inhumanly, and her mind rushed out to crush mine. "YOU'RE JUST LIKE HIM! KESSLER DIDN'T DO WHAT HE WAS TOLD EITHER! WHY? YOU DO WHAT I SAY! THAT'S THE WAY IT HAS TO BE!"

In reaction, I tightened my grip. I focused through the haze, and suddenly I could feel Sasha's thoughts. It was nothing like when I got visions off people. My brain was suddenly in contact with hers, and I could feel how her mind work. I saw her insanity, how it skewed her thoughts and warped her mind. I saw her memories of her abusive dad and druggie mom. I felt how the tar ran through her body and how it worked with her. I knew, simply knew in a way too simple to explain, how Sasha worked. In that moment, I knew everything about her as if I was her myself.

But the mind is nothing but the way electricity moves through your brain. Electricity was my domain.

Sasha hissed at the connection between our brains, and the traces of tar in my body surged once more, carrying her will right into my body, skewing my control and focus. "NO! THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS! I'M IN CHARGE!"

"Charge this, bitch," I snarled, before digging my fingers so hard I drew blood. And then I sent power in. I reached out with lightning and changed the way Sasha thought. I'm no brain surgeon, but most of it was instinctual. I couldn't care less on the scientific explanation to what I was doing.

I forced control into Sasha. I rewired her brain quickly and ruthlessly, beating down her will and replacing it with mine. I put a collar on her mind, one more binding than any chains in the real world could duplicate. I made her mine, made her loyal to me, more loyal than a dog to his master. She would do what I said, when I said. I took any idea of defiance right out of her head. And the best part was that she couldn't fight it. It came from inside her.

Guess I can add 'instant brainwashing' to the list of powers.

Her struggles ceased, the tar's influence ending as my influence surpassed it. Her eyes remained dilated, but they became still. Calm. Waiting for instructions. I could feel the bond between us, almost, no, exactly like a leash. Where once her tar linked her to me, now it linked me to her. A pathway existed between our minds, like two radios on the same frequency.

I threw my head back, enjoying the thrill of victory. Like I'd said, I was the strongest in Empire City. And no one was going to tell me what to do.

"Sasha, dear," I said, and her head snapped to me. I knew how her mind worked now, so I used the words she would have used. Side effect, I guess. "Tell your lovelies to get ready. There's going to be visitors tomorrow, and we'd hate to be bad hosts, wouldn't we?"

"Indeed, Cole. I'll tell them to pull out all the stops. We must treat our guests well." Her voice was still soft, still coy and very sexy, but the edge was gone. Free will leeches the personality right out of you apparently. Her eyes closed, and I could feel her working through the leash. She touched the tar with her mind, and used it as a gateway into every Reaper's head. Long story short, she told them to arm up to the teeth and assemble at the Stampton Bridge.

While she did this, I got rid of the restraints. She didn't move though. I hadn't told her to. I looked her up and down, and felt the wild lust in me grow. I'd been through hell for three weeks. I was tense, my emotions heavy. Plus, Moya had a whole military to send in. Danger kicks survival instinct into gear, tells you to mate so you can remind yourself how alive you are.

In short, I was horny and I had a sexy woman who literally would follow my every command.

"Sasha, I'm very stressed today. Come over here and relieve me, please." I breathed in deep, as I watched Sasha smirk in a way that did interesting things to her lips. She got up wordlessly, all long legs and pale skin. All of a sudden my jacket was too hot. I unzipped it and tossed it to the ground. My t-shirt was yellow, my favorite color, or at least it had been. Three weeks of sweat and grime had darkened it to a dark brown.

"My, your clothes are so dirty. We'll need to wash them. You'll need to take them off, of course." Apparently, my command had been vague enough to give her license to be an active lover. I felt a surge of relief that I wouldn't be having it with an unresponsive blow-up doll.

Her hands reached out, tugging the shirt over my head. I lifted my arms to make it easier, feeling myself go hard as I went through the motions that were a foreplay all their own. Once more she licked her lips, her eyes on my chest. I looked down, curious as to why I was having this effect. She showed genuine desire, not mindless obedience, and while I'm not ugly, I'd never been on the right end of the bell curve either. What could I have that would actually excite her?

I stared at myself, and felt damn proud as I did. I'd never been flabby, what with urban exploration as a hobby, but I was still lean in a stick-ish kind of way. Or at least I'd used to. Looking down, I felt like I was looking at an Ancient Greek statue of Adonis or something. My pecs were full and evenly spaced, not bulging grotesquely like a bodybuilder. My arms were lean and hard. My abs, as defining on a man as breasts on a woman, were obvious and smooth but there was enough fat to even the gaps between them, not giving too much of a good thing. My 'love trail' peaked out of my pants, coming up to my navel, emphasizing the perfect iliac of my pelvis. The trails of black lightning continued from my neck, covering my entire torso. This way, though, they looked like tattoos.

Wow. I'd felt myself getting stronger over the past few weeks, but I'd figured that had just been the lightning. It had been, I guess, but I hadn't thought it was because my muscles were getting electric treatments.

I looked up, into Sasha rapt expression. "Come here," I murmured, almost high off the ego boost of my new muscles and the anticipation of a very long night with a beautiful woman. She came to me, and all my worries seemed far away for the rest of the night…


The new day dawned, the sky remaining its unnatural shade of red, though the clouds had receded. I stood at the foot of Stampton Bridge, keeping an eye on the blast doors made for the quarantine. Sasha stood at my side as my lieutenant. I glanced at her, memories of last night going through my head. When you combine pent up sexual frustration with electrical powers, a massive ego boost, and a kinky, submissive woman, you wind up with a really, really great night.

I looked back behind me to behold my army. A sea of orange was assembled behind me, as every Reaper on the island and then some showed up. Apart from the legion right behind me, there were plenty of brutes with rocket launchers hiding on the rooftops, and there were two turret trucks hiding just out of sight for a surprise attack.

My phone beeped as it turned on. "Remind me again why I'm stuck here on the roof?" Zeke sounded more than a tad annoyed, not that I could blame him. Zeke was up to his eyeballs in guilt, and sitting on the sidelines instead of being there with me paying me back didn't sit well with him.

"Two reasons. The first is because I don't want my friend dying on me." I could practically feel him wince through the phone. "The second is so you can warn me if they start sending boats to try and flank us. You're doing your part Zeke, don't worry about that."

"I hear ya. When you see that Moya chick, give her an extra zap for me." With that, Zeke hung up.

I clenched my fists, static flickering around them. Oh yeah. I was gonna zap Moya alright. I'd make that killing move against Kessler seem gentle.

My thoughts were broken by an odd, rapping sound. The earth trembled slightly under my feet as rhythmic impacts hit the bridge a few hundred yards in front of me. I flared my sonar just to be sure. Yep. A solid two hundred troops were on the other side of the wall. I'm pretty sure they had a tank, too.

I whistled, impressed. Moya certainly knew how to make an entrance. Too bad it didn't amount to much. She had the numbers, barely, but my side had suicide bombers, a versatile mentalist with the power to make mind-slaves of anyone she touched, and me. They were doomed.

My phone beeped, before the deep rumbling of the doors opening sounded through the air. Moya's voice whispered to me. "I see you've decided to go down fighting. It's a valiant gesture, but useless in the end. I warned you this would happen."

I whispered back, trying to hit her through the phone. Even though she was probably way back, safely in her office in the stronghold halfway down the bridge. "I'm surprised you didn't just nuke us and have done with it!"

A wry chuckle made itself known. "Believe me, the idea was popular for a while there. However, I convinced the President that a hammer down strategy would be too obvious. The public are pretty gullible, but they can make a lot of noise if they wanted do. It's much cleaner to just claim the cure reacted poorly or had some hidden side-effect."

"You're pretty confident that we're all going to die, aren't you?" The door was halfway open, and I could make out the feet of the first wave. All of them were decked out in SWAT riot armor, but even from this far out I could tell something was off.

"I should be. What's a makeshift gang and living taser against trained ranks with artillery and rubber armor? Good bye, Cole."

…Shit.

The door went up all the way, and all hell broke loose.

I threw a few dozen grenades immediately, hoping to God or whoever was listening that Moya wasn't right.

The soldiers rushed forward. They carried shields, like a Roman legion, blocking the gunfire that erupted from the Reapers. Through the gaps between shields, they somehow carried assault rifles, which started to open fire the instant the first rank got through.

The little lobs of black lightning I'd shot exploded, unleashing electric explosions right under their feet. Quite a few of them flinched, but otherwise didn't react.

…Double shit.

I turned back, dashing behind a car as Sasha and the Reapers started rushing forward to meet the charge. Not all of them, of course. That cramped, we'd be fish in a barrel for the fire from the enemy. Most of the Reapers were spread out in allies, waiting for the first rush to get through and ambush Moya's army with guerilla tactics.

Sasha was pretty much untouchable, what with her teleportation. Add the waves of tar she'd shoot out with covering fire from the Reapers, I had no doubt the first two waves were doomed.

The next few would be a problem. A problem that I'd been the planned solution for. Now that was shot to hell.

Lightning was what I did. I was a walking WMD considering all I could do with it, but it all came back to electricity. Rubber didn't conduct electricity.

I tried to calm down with the sounds of battle behind me. Based on the cries of shock and the roar of rockets, I guessed that the RPG's had surprised the bastards. Anyone left standing would swiftly be converted to the cause by Sasha. That was one of the cornerstones of this stand: the fact that while their numbers went down, ours would grow.

I closed my eyes and thought about the problem. Precision could work; there had to be weak points in that armor. Moya could not have rigged two hundred men with specialized armor on such short notice without leaving a few holes. If the winces from the grenades was any indication, the guys had felt something. That meant my lightning still worked. It was just a question of hitting the right place.

Of course, I could just call lightning from the sky and waste that entire bridge. Plus, it would slow the guys down; watching weather itself attack you gave anyone pause.

Very well, let's go with mass destruction right from the get-go.

I came out from behind the car. The Reapers had reached a stalemate about half-way up the bridge, as rank after rank rushed off the bridge to meet us. They all spread out like clockwork, until my orange army was facing a solid wall of riot shields and gunfire. Our Conduits and bombers were doing some damage, but most of the grunts in that initial charge were cooling on the concrete.

I moved over to where I'd have the best path of destruction, before I focused. I concentrated on all the evil I'd done, all the despicable acts I'd used to force control and order onto my city. Then I felt it, a deep well of infinite energy. All the negativity generated by my actions had an energy all their own. I couldn't use it long, but as long as I reveled in the wickedness, I was invincible.

I dove into that black pit, feeling electricity burst out across my arms as I overloaded, lightning overflowing from within, begging me to use it against my enemies.

I was perfectly fine with that.

I hunched over, and summoned my element.

A massive bolt of lightning hit right in front of me. Then a second, with a third occasionally jumping in. A pillar of lightning, built before me from my limitless power. I sent it forward.

The Conduits were smart enough to get out of dodge, Sasha was no where to be seen, though I felt her close, and the bombers were expendable anyway. My own personal storm rushed forward, heading straight towards the approaching army.

I blew right through the growing wall. Every man directly under the blast just seized up and fell over, dead. The others were too stunned to move, but unharmed. That's okay, they weren't where I was aiming.

The lightning rushed forward towards the bridge, where Moya's troops were still trying to come through, kept locked in place by their own proximity. They couldn't run back, and coming towards them was death. They were stuck and going to die because of it. Simple as that.

I mowed through, punching a hole through the heart of the forces. I felt the lightning continue down the bridge, my connection getting weaker the further it went. I made it all the way to the second barricade before my power rush ran out. The lightning stopped.

I surveyed my work, trying to ignore the rush of fatigue from throwing out so much lightning. A solid trail of blackened concrete lead from the point I was standing, up the bridge, and continued through to the bridge proper. I'd taken down about fifty guys, though I didn't have time to count the bodies, and the tank I'd heard was a burning husk off to one side.

I grinned. Moya thought she'd beat me. Hell no, bitch.

"Bring it on!" I roared at the survivors. They answered me by unloading their clips in my general direction. I must have really spooked them; they were going for the spray-and-pray option, not taking aim between bursts. Not that it mattered either way. I raised my shield, feeling my energy return as the bullets vanished into power I could use.

The ranks still on the bridge rushed forward, managing order and formation through the panic. The wall had regrouped too. The fight here was over. Time to lure them back here.

I turned and ran. I didn't even have to guess what they would do. I'd just killed their comrades, plus I was the leader of the opposition. They charged right after me. I ducked into an alley, then another. I passed other Reapers on the way, and I could all but taste their anticipation for the bastards to fall into their trap.

Once I was a block away, I climbed a building. From here, I had a good view of pretty much everything.

The force had spread out, some going down alleyways while most continued in a block down the main street. I felt Sasha picking off the guys who branched off, coating them with tar before moving to her next target, leaving her victims to writhe on the ground as they slowly succumbed to her control. The main block was being wheedled off by ambushes by the Reapers. They practically exterminated every one that went at them, but each exchange cost them a few.

I grinned. At this rate, I'd be able to break down Moya's door by lunch.

I huddled near the lip of the roof, before focusing my eyes. From here, I had a direct line from up here to their heads, the shields no good at this angle. I shot one in the head. He flinched, but I didn't get the explosion I expected. I frowned. Guess the rubber covered that. Then again, rubber didn't do so well against bullets. Probably why everyone of them had shields.

It was a fair guess that shrapnel was just as effective.

I fired three of the guns, fast as I could. They all exploded pretty much at the same time. At each point, three or four of them fell, screaming in pain or already dead. Flying metal to the head or neck does that.

The advance halted, the men shocked. They'd been trained, sure, but I doubted they'd been trained for anything I could dish out. These guys were for breaking down the doors of a terrorist cell, not invading a city full of 'freaks' with crazy powers.

Sasha appeared at my side. "Let's watch them tear each other apart, shall we dear?" I smiled and petted her hair, not unlike a cat. She preened like one too, leaning into my hand as our eyes locked on the surprise awaiting the enemy army.

Snarling like wild animals, charging with no thought of self preservation, the soldiers that had branched off rushed out towards their former comrades. Not prepared for the betrayal, and still stunned from the sudden dead, the bastards fell like dominoes as they were mowed by the fire of those that not an hour ago had been marching beside them.

I watched the show, enjoying it, before my phone squawked and Zeke's voice rushed out. "Cole! I can see, like, three ships packed to the brim with these cookie-cutter SWAT dudes! They're going for the docks at North Beach!"

"Thanks, Zeke," I said before hanging up. "Follow me," I commanded, before hopping on the nearest wire. I felt and heard the rush of air as Sasha warped to the roof of the building I was heading towards.

Two jumps later and I was on the train tracks. I flew from there. North Beach was practically the next door neighbor to Stampton Bridge. It was a good entry point for sneaking behind an enemy force, assuming that enemy didn't know you were coming.

It didn't take long for the ships to come into sight. They were small, barely bigger than the ones the Dust Men had used for hostages. Two of them had already docked. I leaped from the tracks, using static to cushion the fall.

I ran down that first dock. They were still unloading, and I highly doubted they expected me to be there. I was already at the dock before they noticed I was there. I didn't have time to gloat, so I just threw my hands forward, unleashing a destructive shockwave of electromagnetic energy.

The troops flew into the water, and the fuel in the boat exploded. I shot a few bolts into the water, just to make sure, before turning to my left.

The other boat that had docked was right there, and the guys had taken notice of me. I flipped them off, for the hell of it. Then I focused on the boat before gathering all the electricity in the air and flinging it down. The boat went up in a storm, and the guys on it went down with it.

I ran back to the street, before sprinting towards the dock where the last boat was still trying to dock. I climbed up the warehouse this time, since they would have to be blind not to notice how I'd wasted the other two boats. I creeped across the roof until I reached the lip.

The boat was still in open water. I fired off a couple hammers, curious to see what happened. They shrugged off the explosions, but the ship sure didn't. It cracked beneath them, leaving them to drown in their heavy armor.

I grinned. Irony was sweet, when it was working for me.

I hopped down to the ground, when I heard a gun click behind me. "You bastard!" I heard a man yell. I didn't even think. I just leaped to the side. Bullets ripped through the spot my head used to be. I turned around, shield materializing in front of me. Guess I'd missed a guy from the second boat.

His gun ran out, and I rushed him. I flung out my arms, and lightning coalesced into two blades surrounding my fists, black blades of death. I punched that guy right in the face, his shield too low to protect him. He flew through the air, arms flailing as the shield and gun dropped from his grasp.

I walked over to where he fell, slightly surprised to see him still alive. That hit had killed everything it touched when I'd used it. Guess the rubber had dulled the effects. Well, that worked out for me just fine. I was feeling peckish.

I crouched down and brought my hand to his face. He tried to hold me off, but was too weak to stop the strength of my arm. I felt the energy running through his body, the electricity that makes us all tick. We were just as dependent on it as the machines we used. I gathered it up, and sucked it in.

Trails of lightning flew from his body into my mouth as I literally ate the guy's bio-electricity. When I as finished, he was dead, and I was fully charged.

I smirked, before lazily making my way towards the tracks. The battle out to be over by now. Moya would have nowhere to run as I marched down the bridge towards her.

My phone went on. "Cole, we've got a problem. I see a chopper heading towards the bridge. I think Moya's making a run for it!" The phone went off, Zeke having delivered his message.

I swore as I picked up the pace. Sasha, where she'd been waiting on the sidelines in case I needed help, moved at my side as I rushed for the bridge.


When I got there, all you could see was orange. The Reapers swarmed, reveling in their triumph and the swell in their ranks. I blew through them, running towards the bridge. I didn't have time to coordinate them, I could see the chopper landing.

All the doors were open as I ran down the bridge. Unsurprising; Moya needed them open to move such a large force. All the crates had been moved to the side to clear room for her massive force. For a second, I pictured how she'd look if she stayed alive enough to report to her superiors. Her force had been crushed before they'd made it a block inland. She'd have been humiliated.

If she lived that long.

The last door before her base was closed, but it was nothing for me to charge up the door. It rolled up, and a hail of bullets rushed at me to rip me to shreds.

I raised my shield and ran forward. The turrets that had torn my riot a week ago to shreds had no effect on me. I ran forward, right for the front door. And it was a door, two gaping ones that led right through the base to the other end. That explained how the tank got through.

One short week ago, the sight of the outside world would have froze me in my tracks, would have been an incredible temptation. The way out of the city was right there. I ignored it now. The world didn't matter anymore. Why should I leave a place where I had all the power?

I blundered through the base, looking for a way to the roof where the helipad was.. I could not let Moya get away. I absently noted that there wasn't a spark in the building. Odd, a place this big would need a lot of juice. If I came across a guy, I just zapped him. These guys didn't have any annoying armor; they dropped like flies.

I opened another door in my increasingly frustrated attempts to find the stairs. My annoyance vanished, however, when I realized where I was. The generator room. I could see it, a giant turbine linked up to a wall of circuit boxes. The cables linking the generator and the circuits had a break between them, one end sparking electricity. Moya had probably had them cut to try and slow me down.

I couldn't resist. If I could get another power into my already-God-like arsenal, then I would be invincible. No one would be able to set foot on the island without my say-so. Without any hesitance, I walked forward and picked up both ends of the cables. Electricity surged through my from my left, my body acting as a connecter between the giant energy of the turbine and the circuits meant to distribute it around the base.

A vision hit me. In it stood myself. I was facing a few Dust Men. I brought two of my hands together, a sphere of energy forming between them. I spun around counterclockwise, before flinging the sphere at the Dust Men. Only it wasn't a sphere anymore. It was a twister, a tornado, a swirling vortex spewing lightning that sucked up everything in its path and electrocuted it.

I blinked as the vision ended. I'd said it when I'd learned how to grind. I'd said it again when I'd learned the godsend that was my shield. Now it flew from my lips as I discovered a power even more destructive than my storm.

"Oh. Hell. Yes."


The stairs were right next to the door to the generator. I forced it open before running up the steps. I flared my radar, and ran faster. Moya was already on the roof.

I reached the roof the same time the chopper took off. I caught a glimpse of Moya, staring at me in fear, before the chopper turned around and headed towards the mainland. Moya had made her escape. She would regroup and come back with even bigger guns.

That's what she thought. This seemed like a perfect chance to give my new power a field test.

I spun around, throwing my vortex at the fleeing helicopter. It felt alive as it leapt from my fingers. As I handled it, I felt the wild forces of nature as they were molded and shaped into what I wanted. That, more than anything I'd ever done or felt, made me feel like a god. Anyone with access to that level of power couldn't be anything less.

The vortex sucked in Moya. I watched as the wind, opaque in its intensity, drew in her ride as it was shot down with lightning. The vortex vanished suddenly, as if it had fallen down a hole into the ground. Well, now I knew that it didn't last long. The chopper was revealed, blades barely spinning. It was in a death spiral, with no chance of survival left.

It crashed. Nothing dramatic, no last-minute parachutes. It crashed, simple as that. I hopped down to the ground, on the other side of the base. I walked over to the crash. If Moya was still alive, I could get something out of her. If she was dead, then I'd still get something.

I didn't see Moya until I was almost on top of the crash. She was splayed out on the ground, her feet still in the husk of the helicopter. From the looks of things, she'd tried to crawl out of the chopper before collapsing. I knelt down, checking for a pulse. There wasn't any. I took a moment to study her features. They were oddly calm, as if she'd been tired for a long time and had finally been granted rest.

She'd spurned me, used me, but I could respect her. Two warriors can appreciate each other, even when they clash on the battlefield. Without powers, in a strange and dangerous environment, she had kept her head and maintained leadership. She'd calmly and efficiently used every tool at her disposal to get what she wanted. That took guts. I could acknowledge that much.

I was about to turn away when I heard a ringing. Not from my phone, either. I paused, looking down. I could see a light blinking in time to the ringing in her jacket pocket. I dug down, picking it up. It didn't look like anything I'd seen in any store. I was the size of a couple of stamps, and it had an antenna, like older phones, only this one had a small box at the base.

I pulled out the antenna all the way and clicked the call button. I brought it up to my ear, waiting for the voice of whoever was ordering Moya around.

"Agent Jones, what is the situation? What is the status of the invasion? Where is Codename THOR? Goddamn it Moya, answer me!" The voice was male, gravelly from a lifetime of smoking cheap cigars. It had the cultured tone that hinted at a fancy education. I checked for an ID on the phone. It just had "DARPA 1". Jackpot.

"That last one might be difficult, considering she's dead," I said into the tiny phone. I heard the guy on the other end gasp. "As for the others, the situation is FUBAR. Your invasion's been stopped cold. And as for THOR, well, I'm right here talking to you."

There was a pause on the end of the line. A long one. I was wondering if the guy had chickened out and hung up when he spoke. "Listen, Cole, you have every reason not to trust us. But we really just want the Ray Sphere out of that maniac Kessler's hands. I can arrange a drop point, and you can just walk away. Go into the country, start a new life, forget all of this ever happened. How's that sound, son?"

"Forgive me while I laugh at how big of a fucking idiot you are," I growled. "The Ray Sphere's gone. It burned up with Moya's little husband, that guy in NSA you all had your panties in a bunch over. As for Kessler, he's dead. You can thank me for that. And there's no way I'm leaving this city."

This time, the voice was cold as ice. "What do you want, freak?"

I chuckled. "It's simple. You leave me and my city alone. Tell the media the terrorists have hostages or something. You don't send in any armies like that joke from earlier." Here, I lowered my voice, being as menacing as I knew how. "And if you even think of bombing us, I don't care how far you run. I don't care how well you hide. You could drop a nuke on me and it wouldn't matter. You could hole up in Mexico or India or the goddamn North Pole and it won't matter. I will find you, and I will kill you. End of discussion."

I crushed the phone in my grasp, frying it with my lightning. I tossed it to the ground, turning away. I turned away from the rest of the world, and went back to my own little corner. I went back to power and control. I went back to Zeke, my friend that I would give my life to protect. I went back to Sasha, my tool and slave.

I smirked. I felt an odd urge, and followed up. What the hell, I could be poetic if I wanted to.

"Old King Cole was an evil old soul, and an evil old soul was he. He called for a fight, and he called for his whore, and he called for screaming misery."


Yeah… it's weird to write about evil villains. On one hand you can have them do whatever, since they have no morals. And at the same time your morals are telling you that you should feel guilty, even though you're having so much fun. Very weird.

Hope you enjoy this. Even though you'll probably be one of three people who read this. Ah well, enjoy anyway!