Hey so as it turns out the only inspiration I can muster is to re-write this story, because I'm very unhappy with how the original turned out. Enjoy.
A swirling feeling twisted in his gut as he flew through the white, time-reel void. The boy flew through the emptiness, tears coming to his eyes as the color from his irises and pupils drained out into the same empty whiteness that surrounded him. Film reels of the last 27 years flew past him, pictures of the evil person who took over the world in his time.
In a even more disorienting turn, the boy flew out of of the portal into an ally of New Marias. He sat up, holding his head with a scowl. He growled, standing up. He looked into the window of the shop he landed next to, flinching at the blank whiteness of his eyes.
Looks like the team wasn't able to fix it after all.
He sighed, about to run a hand through his hair, before he stopped. He stared at the clunky metal glove that stopped him. Three circles were inset into the glove, connected by lines. He shook his head. He stepped out, looking around. It looked so.. Normal.
It worked.
That is, until a gunshot erupted near him, a bullet whizzing by him. His head flew towards the direction it came from.
A man in a orange military uniform stood, holding a shaking AK-47. He was screaming into his radio, "Y-YEAH, HE'S BACK."
Of course.
The Militia Man held his gun, shaking very badly. The boy only rolled his eyes. It wasn't visible, per say, but he did roll his eyes. He held up an arm, gloved hand outstretched. The militia man panicked, unleashing a flurry of bullets towards the boy. A drop of sweat streaked down the side of his head, the bullets suddenly slowing to a crawl, before stopping completely. He stepped around the bullets, before holding up his hand and blasting the Militia's head with a blur of white energy. Time went back to normal speed, and the Militia fell over, dead.
The boy grabbed the radio from the Militia, hitting the speaker button.
"A message to the Militia; Contact Cole MacGrath. Tell him that Roman wants to meet with him."
The same white energy starting coming off the radio, before rust began weathering it greatly. It aged centuries in seconds, buttons falling off, and the antenne snapping in half. Roman dropped it, leaving the radio a hollow, broken shell. Literally.
Roman disappeared into nothing.
Cole streaked across the telephone wire with ease, his eyebrows furrowed down in an unpleasant expression. He leapt off, landing in a roll, ending next to a stop sign on a street corner, right before his phone went off.
"What is it, Zeke?" Cole asked, casually scaling a nearby building.
"Uh.. Cole, we've got some bad news." Zeke began, his voice shaking. "A report to the militia just came in.. A man in a white hood using some sort of white energy powers just showed up."
Cole stopped in his tracks.
"What..? No, Zeke, he's dead. I killed him."
Zeke stayed silent for a moment. ".. I know, but if he did somehow come back-"
"Send me the location."
Zeke sent Cole the location that the man was spotted at. Cole gave him his thanks, before heading in the direction of the person in the white hood.
It can't be him. He has to be dead.
Cole grabbed onto the ledge of the building, leaping up, before using his electricity to hover a short time.
It can't.
As Cole's feet hit the ground, tossing up dirt into the air, he could feel the electricity crackling in the air. He let out an electromagnetic surge, searching the secluded alleyway for people. Nothing.
Small sparks of electricity crackled around his hands, his eyes darting around. He could be around any corner.
"Cole MacGrath."
Cole whipped around, firing a Magnum Bolt towards the sound of the voice. The bolt phased through harmlessly, and the boy vanished. Cole blinked, sweat beginning to congregate on his neck.
"What the Hell...?"
The boy sighed, Cole whipping around again, the lightning popping with the excess stress building in his veins.
"Who are you?" Cole asked, looking at the boy, whose eyes were closed, and he was leaning against a wall, his hands in his pockets. Despite him knowing that this person was much younger than Kessler (and even Cole himself), the white hoodie he chose to wear and the metal poking out from underneath his sleeve was putting Cole on edge. If he wasn't Kessler, than who was he?
"I'm Roman," The boy said quietly, "And I'm here to help you stop the Beast."