ACT 1 SCENE 4
A black sky hovered overtop an abandoned city street, not five miles away from the town that had been attacked earlier in the day. A lone stranger walked tiredly along the pavement towards his destination, unafraid, yet uncertain of the events that had yet to unfold. Perhaps it was the damp mist filling the atmosphere that painted his mood grey, or perhaps that was just the kind of person he had become after so many years of sheer distrust.
He turned down a dark alley suddenly, knowing exactly where he was going and who he wanted to talk to. It was 1 a.m. in the morning, but he knew for a fact that his suspect would be where he was headed. A doorway was barely lit at the end of the alley, the man quickly made his way inside to the dark and grungy pub. It was completely empty, aside from the bartender and an old man wrapped in a leather jacket to one side of the bar.
"Most people use the front door," The bartender was annoyed at the new customer who sat himself down next to the older gentleman.
"Scotch," he said and turned to look at the old man.
"I had a feeling someone would find me soon. No sense in hiding, you have nothing on me," the old man turned to face the stranger.
"Thomas Xavier Light," the stranger could now see Light's face. "I'm inspector Stanley."
Light took a smoke of his cigarette before speaking, "What do you want?"
"You know what we want, why else would I be here?"
"I know you don't believe me, but it isn't me that you're after." Light took another deep breath of smoke, and washed down the toxins with a sip of whiskey.
"And I suppose you have no idea who it is that we want?" Stanley accepted his scotch from the bartender and paid him.
"My assistant," Light puffed.
"Albert W. Wily," Stanley confirmed.
"That is correct."
"So why have you not come forward with this if you have nothing to do with it?" Stanley was unconvinced, and gave the impression that he would forever remain so.
"Because it is pointless. You can't stop them now that they're out of control," Light puffed again, seemingly annoyed by all conversation.
"How do you know this?"
"I created them. I created life, and Wily stole it from me. My life's work," Light turned to face the man for the first time. "And they are coming after me next."
"So there would be no point in locking you up now," Stanley smiled empathetically.
"It's no excuse, it is a fact. Lock me up if you must, there's no place for me to hide."
"Soon enough." Stanley swallowed the scotch in one swig. He got up slowly and started to walk away.
"What is it that you presume you can do to stop them?" Light was suddenly interested.
"Perhaps, if you're telling the truth… you could tell me," Stanley turned one last time.
Taking another swig of his whiskey, Light considered the words carefully, "Perhaps, indeed."