MISSION 4

[Hell Breaks Loose]

Xanatos Pharmaceutical

3:11 a.m.

"Alright, listen up! I want those cameras back and a perimeter up! Now!" barked the young, auburn-haired police officer to his subordinates. The officers went to work, ignoring the scores of reporters outside of the yellow tape, eagerly trying to get a word in. A flash of light was seen overhead, followed by a rumble of thunder. Not even a minute later, the cops found themselves continuing their work in the midst of a steady downpour. Uniform now drenched, the young man sighed.

A lone woman's voice came from the other side of the police tape, filled with authority as she said, "M.I.P.D. Move aside!" The young woman broke through the crowd of milling reporters, her superior, Mary Arkham, following along behind her.

The young officer turned, meeting Mary's familiar two-toned gaze. Her dark, medium-length hair hung lankly around her face, plastered to her cheeks from the rain, the scar across her nose barely visible beneath the brim of her orange-tinted sunglasses.

"Any reason you're wearing sunglasses at night Mary?"

"Does it matter, Jon? Now what the hell happened here? It's too early in the morning for this bullshit," Mary declared crossing her arms as she came to stand in front of her subordinate. The two turned towards the building, their gazes roving over the broken glass and concrete debris scattered around the front entrance.

Jon cleared his throat before speaking, "Well they're saying some terrorist broke in an attempted to destroy one of the labs."

"Why would some terrorist target a particular lab here?"

"Most likely it could be the group of activist that targeted this corporation before when they believed they tested on animals. I don't know if they actually do, but it was still a mess like this last time."

Mary made her way towards the entrance and started analyzing the scene. Her eyes rapidly moving back and forth over the damage.

"Hey Jon, did the terrorist come from inside the building?" asked Mary, turning back towards him.

"The story I heard from the witness was that they blasted through the front door and made their way up to one of the labs."

Mary clicked her tongue and placed a hand on her hip, narrowing her eyes, "Then why is this debris facing the opposite direction?" Jon shrugged at Mary's question making her roll her eyes. "Anyway, let's go see what Mr. Xanatos is up to." She reached in to her coat pocket and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it. She took a long drag as they made their way to the elevator. Jon pressed the 8th floor button. The elevator doors closed with a muffled clank before it began its ascent to the 8th floor, where the target lab was located.

The 8th floor was hectic. Police officers and Xanatos employees were wandering back and forth among the mess left by their culprit. Some were injured and being checked out by paramedics. The lab itself was an utter disaster. Broken computer monitors, desks, and other various lab equipment lay scattered about. Xavier noticed them from one of the back offices, standing out in comparison to the controlled chaos of Xanatos workers wandering about. He made his way forward, smiling as he offered his hand in greeting. "Mary Arkham, a fine pleasure to have such a beauty as yourself here, tonight. Though I wish it were under better circumstances," he added, grimacing.

Mary pulled out the cigarette resting between her lips, "Cut the shit, Xavier. I just want to get this over with. What exactly happened here?"

"First off, I would appreciate it if you didn't smoke in here, Mary." Mary just rolled her eyes and sighed, dropping the cigarette on to the messy tile floor and stomping it out.

"Thank you. Well, my associate Carl Agnus told me a bunch of crazed lunatics busted into my corporation for some reason and targeted one of my labs."

"Yea, I know the general story, but we need specifics, if you have any. Who do you think could have done this?"

"If I was a betting man, I'd put money on those activist from a couple of years ago. We dealt with them again just recently; they tried to intercept one of our supply shipments a few weeks ago. Of course, we reported it to the police right after."

"Why target this particular lab? What's so special about the 8th floor?"

"Well Mary, this is the floor where most of our research is done. From studying new viruses, to developing vaccines. They must have done their homework, because it's going to cost me a pretty penny to restore what they destroyed."

Mary scanned her surroundings, trying to pick up on anything conspicuous. Some of the walls were imprinted with what looked like claw marks. She followed the trail of destruction and saw even more marks. "No human did this."

"Ah yes, it seems they must have recruited a demon. Agnus suffered quite an injury when it turned its claws on him. I'm sure other people have reported demonic activity, as well." Although his demeanor remained the same, Mary couldn't shake the feeling that something else was at work, here. The story seemed too perfect—especially coming from someone who hadn't been present during the attack.

"Jon, I want an anti-demon task force equipped and ready to go. Whoever attacked this lab is still out there and he seems to be a very dangerous demon."

"Yes Ma'am!" Jon saluted and did an about face, making his way back to the elevator. After telling Xavier to keep in touch, Nary followed suit.

Waving as the two disappeared behind the elevator's stainless steel doors, he made his way back into the lab, slumping across one of the tables in exhaustion. The false cheeriness he had displayed for the officers faded, giving way to anger. Xavier slammed his fist down onto the table with enough force to make his hand hurt, though he barely felt it, his gaze solely focused on the claw marks scarring the walls as he growled under his breath, "Nero."

Slums of Mallet

4:02 a.m.

Sirens combing the streets of Mallet could be heard echoing across town, searching for the dangerous demon fugitive that had struck the Xanatos corporation. The downpour increased as night gave way to early dawn, covering the entire city in dampness. Anyone who had been out on the streets had long since disappeared, seeking shelter—except for one, lone figure, resting between the garbage bins in one of the slum's many alleyways.

A young man of no more than twenty; to any passersby—if there had been any—he would have looked like any other man his age. Soaked from head to toe, his medium-length black hair clung to his face in wet curls, the jogging pants and t-shirt he wore conforming to the shape of his body, each rib and muscle showing through the material. Hidden at his side was his arm—his deformed arm, covered in blue and red scales—casting a faint, blue glow on the alley walls on either side of him.

Panting, he gritted his teeth, thinking aloud, "Come on, Nero…get your ass moving…"

Standing slowly, Nero stumbled into the wall next to him, leaving a claw mark along the bricks as he extended his right arm to steady himself. He still felt weak, but he pushed on, dragging himself like a zombie through the alleyway.

After walking for what felt like an eternity, he came across a small break in the buildings, opening up onto a townhouse complex. Following the path, he came across five hoodlums lounging on one of the closest house's porches, drinking and smoking, the smell of alcohol and cannabis assaulting his nostrils. As he stumbled closer, they stopped talking, finally noticing his presence.

"You lost homeboy?" one of the men asked blocking Nero's path. Nero just shoved him aside causing the other for men to rise to their feet.

Nero faced them, "You try anything, and you'll fucking regret it."

"Look, I don't know who you think you are, but that right there was just asking for an ass whooping!" The man cracked his knuckles, ready for a fight; Nero straightened his posture, tilting his head to one side. Suddenly, he felt a bar stool break across his back, forcing him to one knee. The man he shoved aside came at him from behind, taking a cheap shot. Nero didn't feel the pain; all he felt was anger. Standing up, he delivered a devastating right hook to the man, slamming him into the side of the house with enough force to knock him unconscious, the man slumping to the ground.

The others came charging at Nero. He jumped and horse-kicked the closest one, causing him to fall back against two others. As he readied for the next assault, he felt a heavy force collide with his midsection, knocking the wind out of him and sending him to the ground. One of the men straddled him, repeatedly hammering at him with his fists. After a few solid, painful hits, Nero brought his arms up defensively, grabbing hold of his assailant by the wrists. Using his legs, he flipped the man over, locking him in an arm-bar position. Without missing a beat, he started pulling the arm in the opposite direction, breaking it. The man's agonized screams pierced Nero's ears as he rolled around on the ground, clutching his broken arm. Nero stood up, a powerful tingling sensation running up and down his own arm as it began to glow.

Clenching his fist, Nero threw his right arm forward, producing a large, ghostly projection of his clawed hand in front of him. It was big enough to knock all three of the remaining men skyward, their bodies hitting the ground with a loud thud as they landed. Nero didn't concern himself with their well-being, however; he couldn't care less whether they were alive or dead.

Glancing at their unconscious forms, he wrestled one of them out of the hoodie that he wore, pulling it over his own head and concealing his glowing arm under its sleeves. He could hear sirens in the distance, growing louder as they drew closer. With a final backward glance, he sprinted away, disappearing behind the apartment complex before the police cruisers could arrive.