Infamous: Resurgence
Chapter 4
A/N: There's finally some action in this chapter! Please leave a review if you read, etc. etc.
Excerpt from the First Sons text Ray Field Power Research, First Edition
Instead of using fire, water, or electricity, raw energy manipulation is sourced directly from the Conduit's life force. The Conduit is, in a way, projecting a part of their soul outward and manipulating it. Although doing this can quickly weaken a Conduit, they can also restore their life force from any form of energy. For example, a Conduit with this power can tap into an electrical source and their body will convert the electrical energy into raw energy. At advanced levels, a user of this ability could reanimate a body by infusing it with life energy, but at the cost of the Conduit's own life. Overuse of this ability is fatal in all cases, and artificial restoration of life force can result in numerous unpredictable changes.
John flashed to the main entrance to his lab, then pushed the heavy door open. The morning sun poured in, the first that John had seen in days. His eyes adjusted quickly and he stepped forward onto the streets of Empire City. John rubbed his hands together, then set off toward the center of town. There was always some sort of petty crime going on around the city. It started with the quarantine two decades ago, when the Empire City Police Department nearly went extinct. Ever since, crime has risen exponentially. It was almost painful for locals to admit that Empire City might be more of a dump now than before the blast.
John had a mind to try and take care of a few crimes himself. The average purse snatcher would turn tail and run at the sight of a man throwing a car at them, so it's not like John was up for much of a challenge. As John rounded a corner into an alley, he faced the first challenger. Someone was holding up a man for his wallet. John took a deep breath, summoned any courage he had, flexed his fingers.
"Hey, asshole." The someone, a short man with a mask pulled over his face, turned toward John, then pointed the gun toward him.
"Get out of here, you bum," the robber shouted. "I don't have time for you." John laughed and scanned the ground for something to use as a weapon. Not much.
"You picked a pretty bad time to rob that guy." John pointed at the man's gun, willed it out of his hand. Caught off guard, the robber could only watch as his weapon disappeared into the sky. His eyes went wide, but apparently decided he would worry about it later as he drew a knife from his jacket. John scoffed again. "I just threw your gun over a building, and you think I'm afraid of a knife?" The masked man shook his head.
"Not yet. But you will be." The man charged at John, the knife readied for a slash. John thrust out his hand, tried to push him back or twist the knife away. What happened instead was much more spectacular.
John gritted his teeth as a flash of green exploded from his palm. The energy splashed over his attacker's chest, tossing him aside like a piece of trash. John stared wide-eyed at his hand, trying to do it again. A small orb of the same energy blossomed in his hand, rippling against the wind. John prodded at it with his other hand, and it disappeared as quickly as it came. John laughed, then returned to the matter at hand. He grabbed the attacker by the collar and heaved him out of the trash pile, before tossing him down the alley and watching as he scrambled away. Next, John turned to where the victim was standing. He was staring slack-jawed at John, who waved a hand in front of the man's face.
"You alright, man?" John asked. "Not hurt or anything?" The man shook his head.
"How'd you do that?" John thought for a moment.
"Don't worry about it." With a flash, John was gone.
John glared at the paper targets, arm outstretched. He focused on the energy that he used earlier that day. He could feel it; it wasn't like the energy he used to move things, or to teleport. It was centered in his chest, and it felt as though it had a life of it's own. John summoned it and it shot out his hand, punching through the target before dissipating against the concrete wall behind it. John adjusted his aim and tried again, with the same results. John then turned his hand over and pulled the energy out. It sprung to life, floating above his palm in a neat sphere. John juggled it between his hands before lazily tossing it toward the last target. As it hit the ground, it swirled upward, green tendrils engulfing the paper. It then disappeared in a burst of green sparks. The paper fell to the ground, sliced apart by the energy.
"This is so cool," John whispered, staring at his palm. He felt drained, though. Using that energy was more taxing than psychokinesis. John mounted the steps to his living area and placed his hand on the clock, hoping for a repeat of last night. Nothing happened for a moment, but then John felt the electricity. He focused on it, tapped into it, and it sprung out before surging into his arm. John flexed his hand, then shook it out. Green sparks scattered across the floor, skipping across the metal before vanishing. John shrugged, then looked at the clock. It still glowed, ever so faintly. The red display read 1:34, so John lowered himself onto the bed and went to sleep, preparing for the next day.
Sometimes it surprised John that in the year 2029 there was still a market for newspapers, but he wasn't about to complain. He lifted the discarded paper from the trash can and scanned the front page. The top headline made him smile and grimace in the same movement. 'Empire City's Superman?' was splashed across the top, with a witness drawing of John below. John skimmed the article, then tossed it back into the trash and pulled his hood up. It was a futile effort, however, as John spotted a group of figures moving toward him. They stopped John as he tried to dart down an alley.
"Yeah, you're that Superman, ain't you?" The leader said. John laughed nervously as he turned toward him.
"Definitely him, Sam," one of his lackeys offered. The other nodded, as though a third opinion was needed.
"Hey, Superman, how'd you get to do all that stuff?" John shrugged his shoulders.
"It just came to me." One of the others stepped forward, edging in front of the first.
"Why don't you show us one of your powers, Superman?" John was fairly tall, at six feet two inches. All three of these guys trumped him, and even with powers John wasn't thrilled about his odds in a fight.
"Alright. I bet you'll like this one." John rubbed his hands together, before disappearing into the shadows of the alley. He watched with a smile as the group looked around, incredulous. Then one of them pointed toward John, and they charged down the alley. John turned and darted, not daring to look behind him. The sound of a gun being loaded told the whole story. A shot smashed into the side of a building next to John, splintering concrete. John reached the end of the alley, a wooden fence blocking his path. John scrambled up the fence and continued across the street into the next alley, before flashing a few blocks away. He missed the landing, however, and appeared in the middle of a crowd on the sidewalk. A few people in the crowd noticed him, started asking questions and attracting even more attention. John pushed his way out of the closing crowd and took off into another alleyway. Confirming he was safe, John slumped against a wall, trying to catch his breath. It seemed that this hero thing was going to be more difficult than expected.