Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider, Anthony Horowitz does. I am not making money off this fanfiction. I do not 'Sunday Bloody Sunday' by U2, 'Symphony of Destruction' by Megadeth or 'Devil's Got a New Disguise' by Areosmith. In short, only the plot is mine.
This just popped into my mind as I was listening to Symphony of Destruction by Megadeth. It makes more sense if you listen to the song while reading the story.
Post Scorpia Rising, AU
Thanks for reading, enjoy!
The World Powers Fall
Alex sat on the Underground, watching the black wall fly past him. He let his thoughts drift but kept his mind alert to any possible threats. One headphone dangled near his waist, while the other was lodged in his ear. His blue iPod was on shuffle and he barely heard it drift off 'Sunday Bloody Sunday' by U2. His attention did focus on the music when the haunting opening of the next song began to play.
He listened in silence, barely paying attention to the raucous crowd around him. The eerie yet dense tune took over from the opening, and suddenly Alex remembered what the first line was. 'The Symphony of Destruction' by Megadeath pounded in his ear as his lips curled up at the edges.
He listened to the first verse a wry smile on his face. He could just image Blunt as that man. Corrupt by power and just watching, uncaringly, as he sent agents- no, men- to their deaths. Blunt was only mortal, and Alex would not be surprised if the man's supremacy had gone to his head.
The chorus started to fill Alex's ear. The Pied Piper did not just lead rats, he led children too. Just like society beckoned the children to follow its ideals, tantalizing promises of a better future acted as the music and the government played it.
'Marionettes' was an apt description. People were confined by rules, manipulated by words and pictures. If you turned on the television or the radio you would be subject to advertisements. If you walked down a street posters would beam at you, inviting you to come closer. Advertisements were just another form of manipulation really.
Alex's mind latched onto a similar word as he listened to the second verse. He had to admit that Alan Blunt certainly, both emotionally and physically, resembled a robot. It was not difficult to imagine the head of MI6 poisoning everyone he met.
Blunt's constant manipulations wore Alex down and the teenager had sometimes fought a battle in his mind. The spy had often felt himself slipping into the pit of insanity, and sometimes he had let go. He had always recovered at the last second, scrabbling to regain his handhold in the realm of sanity.
Alex wondered it Blunt had a pulse, because with a pulse came a heart. The stone-like man had a physical one, but a figurative one? Alex doubted the possibility. He wondered how much longer the man could bear the weight of his power. How much longer could Blunt's mind take it? Insanity was a likely route for the head of MI6.
The chorus blared again and Alex's mind provided new comparisons. People were so predictable. They followed the strongest, entranced by what that person preached. They all required incentive. The lull of false possibilities and plans gave them that. Without incentive they had no strings, no purpose.
The guitar solo gave him time to scan the area, making sure that no one malicious had appeared whilst he was distracted. He attempted to ignore the song, but the next verse entranced him.
Alex could imagine the voices of billions crying so loudly that they shook the Earth. He doubted he would ever be alive when it happened, if it happened. A single person had simply never been enough to rouse the entire world, in the end there was always someone to oppose them.
When the crumbling of the greatest human authorities on the Earth took place, Alex would want a front row seat. He knew that they kept the people in check, but they were all willing to utilise anything and everything. Alex, himself, was proof of that. The world powers had stooped to the level of those they tried to stop, maybe even lower. Yassen had refused to kill children. Though, come to think of it, he almost tortured Sabina on Air Force One. Well, nobody was perfect.
War was such a common thing. Everyone deluded themselves into believing that war was only for soldiers. Ordinary citizens fought wars every day. Whether it was with themselves or with others, they battled somehow. Their wars refused to end.
The man who started it all, who destroyed the puppeteers and the governments, who threw the world into chaos, he would stand there. Just watch them all, with nothing but peace and serenity in his heart.
The chorus repeated, but this time Alex grimaced before an ugly scowl crept over his face. He could see himself in the chorus, as a person with faith in his country. He had been naïve and rash. He remembered when he had been a puppet, they could pull the strings. They could, and would, take everything from him.
In the end they had, just not in the way they had thought they would.
He had danced to their tune just like so many other fools. No more. He played the music now, and their songs would end.
He would be the calm one who stood there in the midst of chaos.
Once upon a time Alex Rider had been sane, but he let go. He released his weakening hold. Alex had fallen, and there had been no one there to catch him.
He closed his hand around the cold metal in his pocket. The music faded out and 'The Devil's Got a New Disguise' by Areosmith started to play.
Alex chuckled as he stepped off the train. Yes, the Devil certainly had a new disguise.
Line Break
No one questioned him; they had seen him walk through the building too many times. Besides, he radiated an aura of power. It terrified the newer workers and frightened the more experienced ones.
He headed straight towards the office. How convenient it was that the commanders and deputies of the all Military Intelligence sectors would be present today.
He slipped in like a ghost, shutting the door behind his as he strolled into the sound-proofed room.
A grey man turned to him, but it was lady who smelled of peppermints that spoke. "Alex?" She murmured curiously.
Her questioned was never answered. The gun was out before anyone could respond. Gunshots filled the air. Then all was silent.
He pocketed the gun before pressing a button on his vivid, blue iPod. The blast would be absorbed by the bunker-like walls and no evidence would remain.
He flicked a button on the desk and slipped down the secret passage way.
Line Break
Eight hours later they discovered the bodies. The explosion at Royal and General Bank was the highlight if the news. By this time Alex Rider had become Felix Daniels and the plane was on its way to America.
He smirked and his eyes sparkled with insanity.
One down, six to go.
So, how was it? Did it actually make sense? Thank you for reading!