Author's Note: Yes, you heard right, this is the one with the epic battle you've all been waiting for. No whining about the outcome, please? :)


"TAAAAGGAAAARRRRRRT! You suicidal MORON!"

The ragged, gravely cry echoed through the streets of Manhattan, the pure, unconstrained rage behind it sending most who heard it cowering in fear. The city's residential mass murderer was on the hunt again, and he was not happy with his target. That man was now fleeing as best as he could towards the nearest bridge back to the mainland, escorted by numerous tanks and his path, hopefully, secured by legions of troops and the enhanced brutes they colloquially called Supersoldiers. With an insane amount of luck, he half-assured himself, he just might make it out alive. Why precisely Zeus wanted him was beyond Taggart, and ultimately, he didn't care. The creature couldn't be reasoned with.

Cole watched from the hospital grounds as the convoy of tanks rumbled by, the one they were protecting counterintuitively the most heavily armored of the group. Dana had been out here with him earlier, after the rogue helicopter had passed, but he had told her to stay inside. She had obliged without argument, perhaps aware of the soldiers lining up along the nearby rooftops.

The last of the tanks passed him, and even before the shouts of their pursuer reached him, he already had a good idea exactly who they were running from. Mercer's enraged yells had only confirmed his suspicions. Seconds after that, the mutant in question darted past him, brutally elbowing cars and pedestrians out of his way with a species of single-minded determinedness that Cole thought only reachable by those on the very brink of sanity. It wasn't a good sign.

Taking himself up on his resolution to act quickly and decisively the next time he saw Mercer, Cole drained electricity from the street lamps around him, the energized crackle and buzz of the action sending nearby pedestrians fleeing. Mercer had already rounded a corner, putting him out of his line of sight, but Cole wasn't letting him go that easily. Taking the shortest path, he cut through the hospital's courtyard, following the sound of the tanks. As he ran down the sidewalk in pursuit, he noticed that troops populated the skyline, among them the heavily muscled Supersoldiers. They were somewhat scattered, but they formed a definite path leading down towards a bridge in the distance.

So, this "Taggart" person was trying to escape-

"NOTHING WILL PROTECT YOU FROM ME!" Mercer's shouts cut through his thoughts.

-and that made Mercer royally pissed, why? One less-

"NOT MEN! NOT WEAPONS!"

-platoon of soldiers to deal with, right?

"NOT ARMOR!"

God, this guy sounds like a badly translated movie…

Following the line of military personnel, Cole managed to reach the foot of the bridge long before the tanks, who had likely stopped at the heavily fortified intersection he'd passed several blocks ago. Now, he could see them trundling his way, plowing through masses of Infected without a single worry other than the infuriated monster hot on their trail. Speaking of whom, he was nowhere to be seen, and even his bellows had faded away for the moment. Had he given up on his quarry so easily? It seemed impossible, and even as the tanks grew ever closer, Cole kept expecting Mercer to leap out of nowhere and try to take the convoy by surprise.

Then, with a suddenness that startled even Cole, Mercer vaulted over a nearby building and landed square on the central tank, completely unconcerned with the other four surrounding it. The center vehicle tried to speed away through a gap in its escorts, but he held on tenaciously to the gun barrel even as it was swung as violently as possible left and right. Finding his stability, he climbed up to the hatch on the top of the turret, pried it open, and dropped down inside. Cole watched, horrified, as a uniformed officer, likely Taggart, struggled valiantly to clamber his way out of the now breached hatch. He was about to swing one leg over the side when he was suddenly jerked back down into the tank, his cries turning to screams as he was torn apart by the mutant inside, then… nothing.

Moments later, the armored tank suddenly turned its sights on its former allies. With a single explosive shell, it demolished the two that had taken up position behind it. The massive explosion shook the building Cole had taken cover behind, as well as raising the air temperature around him by several degrees. Moments later, another deafening round was fired, causing Cole to wince and groan in pain as his eardrums were assaulted even through the makeshift earplugs he'd formed out of his fingers. The shockwave from each explosion forced the air out of his lungs and caused his heart to nearly skip a beat. Finally, though, after a final shot, the tank grew quiet once again, and Cole glanced around the corner to see if his own target had left the vehicle yet.


Alex briefly surveyed the area through the Thermobaric Tank's scope, and, finding no further Blackwatch forces, slowly climbed out of the vehicle through the ruined top hatch. His anger was still boiling, but now, as he was sorting through the memories he'd gained from Taggart, it finally, finally started to fade away. He didn't necessarily dislike it when he got that enraged, but he was sometimes worried about what he might do if he completely lost all semblance of control. The sheer amount of power he now possessed, deep down, almost frightened him. He could, if he was so inclined, completely depopulate the entire country given a few months. He was a walking apocalypse, death on two legs, capable of surviving things that would instantly kill all other life… save a nuke, maybe. He wasn't too eager to test that out.

As his abilities grew, or perhaps he simply became more adept at using them, he had ever so slowly become more and more convinced that he was too much of a threat to be left alive. He was a virus, possibly infectious, whose most primal instinct was to kill and consume every organic being he touched. Remorse had only come after the fact, and his capabilities for restraint were, for the most part, relatively untested. The majority of his life so far had been nothing more but a wild frenzy of destruction and slaughter, fueled by his opposition of the Infection, his conflict with the military, and, overall, his desire for the truth. Would he be able to act with some semblance of normalcy once this was over? He might, if he was able to control his murderous impulses, if he was able to subsist on something other than living beings, if he was able to somehow accomplish the monumental task of evading Blackwatch for the rest of his life, which, for all he knew, could be for centuries. The key, though, was whether he willing to risk not being able to.

He almost wished to go back to when he'd first awoken over two weeks ago, when everything had been simpler, when his single-minded determination hadn't yet been undermined by his growing doubts about his future. His sole concerns back then had been to uncover his identity and try to figure out what was going on, both with the city and with himself. Back then, there had been no "what will happen next?", that infuriating question that could only be answered by waiting, but only a constantly changing, half-formed plan to somehow get the information he needed and protect those he cared for.

He had no further time to muse over his eventual fate, though. The moment his shoes touched the paved road beneath him, he was suddenly hit full-force by a large electric bolt, connecting with him, then arcing to the metal body of the tank behind him, frying its electronics and rendering it virtually useless. He let out an involuntary grunt of pain as the electricity passed through him, locking up his muscles and causing him to nearly lose his balance. Even as the sensation faded and he began to regain control, he was hit by another blast of energy, then another, in rapid succession, finally forcing him to fall, spasming, to the ground. He immediately thought back to his confrontation with Greene, how she had suddenly been assaulted by similar electrical attacks. Now the source of them was walking toward him, striding almost casually forward, one arm outstretched and crackling with energy. He was wearing a worn, dust-covered, yellow and black jacket, with a single-strap backpack slung over one shoulder. Everything about him looked a man who had just gone through hell and back following his prey, and Alex's sharp eyes picked out the beads of sweat that dotted his close-shaven forehead.

"Alex Mercer," the man said, halting his advance several feet from Alex's prone form. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this…"

The fact that the man had left him alive, instead of raining destruction down on him, like he had Greene, didn't register for Alex. All he knew was that he'd just been sucker punched, and he was not going to let that happen again.

Before his enemy could react, Alex sprung forward, using his increased strength to both push himself off the ground and into his foe in a flying tackle. Normally, at this point, he would have begun pummeling him with his fists, and it would all be over in a matter of seconds. However, he was suddenly assaulted by another blast of electricity, channeled painfully through his skin and clothing. The smell of burnt flesh and… something else filled the air, and the man managed to wriggle free while Alex was temporarily paralyzed. He was saying something, but Alex wasn't listening, and, enraged once again, he grabbed the nearest object he could find, a postal box. He easily tore it from its weakly bolted foundation and flung it at his attacker, only to have it batted just as easily aside by a shockwave he generated.

On the verge of shouting in frustration, Alex willed his right arm to transform into a long, bladed whip. The feeling of his digits being replaced by near-metallic claws, of his skin becoming a wiry, exoskeletal mass was no longer as bizarre as it had once been, and a far cry from what others thought it felt like. It was all still him after all, and the sensations it picked up were the same as the rest of his skin, if subtly deadened. He moved, and the virus obeyed. Never once had he had to think how to swing a massive blade, crush tanks beneath his fists, or shred through flesh. The translation of the new appendages into something his mind could comprehend, and better, feel familiar with, was just another sign that Alex and BLACKLIGHT were intertwined, if not one and the same.

The man obviously had seen Alex at work before, and immediately upon seeing the red-black tendrils uncover his new arm, dashed to get out of Alex's line of sight. He quickly turned a corner into an alleyway, Mercer in hot pursuit, catching a glimpse of his yellow and black outfit for a brief instant before he was hidden by another building. Alex rounded the corner moments later, but the man was nowhere to be found, the alley terminating in a trash-ridden dead end not far ahead. Undeterred, Alex looked in the only direction he could have possibly gone: up.

The man had grabbed hold of a rusted fire escape and was now climbing expertly along its outer surface it in an attempt to reach higher ground. Alex struck out, his arm extending and easily crossing the distance between them, but the man dodged at the last moment, sending the clawed tip slamming into metal instead of flesh. The fire escape groaned under the weight of the man, and after another strike from Alex, it tore away from the building in a shower of brick fragments and rust flakes. The man clung to the tilting structure for only a bare moment before leaping off to grab onto the virtually identical one on the other side of the alley. This one quickly fell as well, but the man had already climbed up onto the building's roof.

Not letting his attacker get away so easily, Alex promptly shot himself upward, easily clearing the level of the roof. He was about to lunge forward onto it when he was suddenly knocked backwards by another shockwave. He hovered in midair for a few moments, all the while being near-constantly zapped by bolts of electricity, before he crashed back to the ground…


Well… I'm still alive. I must be doing something right... Cole thought to himself as he watched Mercer plummet back down to street level. Knowing that the only way he'd keep surviving is if he kept some distance between himself and Mercer, he quickly glided to the next building over, electricity crackling from his palms as he slowed his descent. Sure, he could have kept attacking while Mercer was down, but he had a feeling that would have done nothing more than piss him off even more. His informant had only told him that high voltage made him think twice, he had said nothing as to whether it did anything more than temporarily incapacitate him.

Moving fast, he continued hopping across the rooftops, suddenly aware of a crashing behind him. Mercer had recovered, and was now bearing down on him, gaining at a frightening rate. In a risky move, he vaulted over one last building, extending the reach of the jump by gliding, and angled towards the edge of the island, just across the road below him. Mercer took the bait and followed, keeping pace with Cole by gliding in his own way, arms outstretched, legs trailing behind him, and a reddish mist of what might have been blood erupting in jets from his wrists and ankles. Cole drifted close to the water, then at the last moment reversed the thrust of his own glide, angling his palms forward to kill his forward motion, and dropped, clinging to the guard-rail that formed the border between concrete-covered land and the water below. Mercer, however, being both faster and heavier, was not able to preform such a feat, and splashed down into the water with a shout.

Cole lifted himself up over the rail and began moving towards a cluster of crashed cars nearby, but not before sending a few jolts of electricity into the water for good measure. Contrary to what he expected, no fish floated dead to the surface, but one very angry mutant almost instantly burst up, sailing high into the air before tumbling to the pavement, soaking wet. Cole dove behind a stationary taxicab as Mercer closed the distance between them once more. A loud, metallic crack was heard, and the taxi behind Cole was suddenly pulled away towards Mercer, who was using his whip-like arm to rapidly drag it back to him, likely to toss back at Cole in a few moments. Thinking quickly, Cole formed a small ball of electricity in one hand, then chucked it at the receding vehicle. His aim was perfect, and it stuck neatly to the cab's metal roof. Mere moments later, as Mercer lined up his sights on Cole, holding the taxi effortlessly over his head, it exploded, not only shocking Mercer but turning the taxicab into a massive shrapnel bomb as its gas tank was set alight. Shards of metal flew everywhere, and one particularly large one managed to embed itself fairly deeply in Mercer's chest. The mutant simply pulled it out, wincing almost imperceptibly as it was removed, the wound healing over almost immediately.

Once again, Cole took his chance to move to a better position while his opponent was stunned. He vaulted over another car and darted down the street, taking care to stay far away from any area that looked to be infested with infected. From what he'd seen, those places would do nothing more than give Cole more hostiles to contend with and Mercer a food source. Instead, he headed in the direction of the nearest military installation. With any luck, the soldiers would focus their energy on Mercer instead of him. He ran quickly, but just as before, he stood no chance against Mercer in terms of speed, and he could already hear the crashing footfalls that signaled his approach, as well as a sharp crack as the bladed end of his whip-like arm smacked into the pavement perhaps inches from his feet. Cole dove to his right, rapidly changing direction as something large and black lunged forward from behind him, its blurry form occupying the place where he'd just been. With a quick glance over his shoulder, Cole identified it as Mercer, looking ready to leap forward again. He was stopped, though, as Cole loosed another series of electrical bolts on him and changed his direction once more, resuming his path towards the base. As he sprinted, he hazarded a glance back, but found Mercer to be gone. Confused, but expecting an ambush, he continued on, listening carefully for the sounds of the other's movement.


Alex had realized fairly quickly that the electrical man was leading him towards a military-occupied area. It was no real worry to him, but he would have to change his tactics. Considering his current tactics weren't preforming to well, it was probably about time he did so anyway. Without warning, he suddenly cut off his chase for the moment, slipping out of his opponent's view while he took on the guise of a Blackwatch trooper. The transition was smooth and seamless, and within moments, he was just another gas mask-clad face in the crowd, anonymous. Careful not to draw attention to himself, he hurried to the base that his opponent was almost certainly trying to reach.

He walked in without much resistance, quickly and stealthily sabotaging the viral detectors placed both on the roof of the building and around the walled-off perimeter. Their annoying alarms and flashing yellow lights were expertly replaced by silence and solid green lights under the rapid tapping of his fingers on their keypads. The soldiers continued to mill about, oblivious that their primary target was now within their midst. They were equally unaware that anyone was approaching, much less that they were almost as big a potential danger as he was. With any luck, the grunts would overreact, and Alex would have one bullet-ridden corpse in place of a pursuer.

Just as a small grin spread under his mask at the thought, said pursuer jogged up to the walls of the installation, but stayed far enough away that the men inside tolerated his presence. Alex had to restrain a smug laugh as the man looked around, fully expecting a certain hooded man to come rushing down the street or plummeting off a rooftop any second now, but, of course, no attack ever came. Remaining as inconspicuous as possible, he grabbed an assault rifle off a nearby rack and slowly, almost casually walked up behind the electric man. This was just too easy. Any other day, and he would have just taken this chance to simply snatch him off the street and consume him at his leisure. That, or simply kill him where he stood.

Before he could take the chance, however, a deep thrum briefly filled the air, and for an instant, Alex felt a vague, dull ache throughout his body, gone as soon as he realized it was there. The man whirled around and immediately began attacking Alex once again, somehow having seen through his disguise. The soldiers stationed inside the base took note, and, within moments, they opened fire on the electrical man, unintentionally assisting their greatest enemy. With a nearly inaudible laugh, Alex joined in with his own weapon, forcing his opponent to flee.


Cole quickly ran from the base, both to escape the hail of bullets and once again move into a better position to attack Mercer. For the moment, at least, he was hampered by his disguise, unable to run at his typical superhuman speeds without drawing the fire of the military as well. Cole used this to his advantage, and used the brief lead he had to scan the area, both visually and electrically, for anything he could use to his advantage. His standard methods weren't working; it was time to try something a bit more radical. He found what he was looking for in a cluster of generators, stored in a small parking lot near the base, obviously for military use. The two guards at the entrance protested at his intrusion, but promptly fell silent when a resounding crash was heard further down the street, accompanied by car horns and raised voices. Knowing just who was on the way, the two soldiers slipped away as Cole started up the generators, filling the area with their mechanical rumble. He drew as much power from them as he could… and waited, standing atop the largest one.

Seconds later, Mercer, back in his standard black jacket and hood, barreled down the street, slowing only so that he could successfully make the turn into the parking lot. He paused just inside the chain link fence, seeming to realize that this might be a trap, though too late. The lights of the city, on for the twilight hours, dimmed to virtually nothing as Cole drained energy from both the generators and the city's power grid, concentrating and directing its flow into Mercer in a spectacular display of raw power. Somehow, over the deafening, thunderous crackle of the channelled electricity, Cole could have sworn he heard Mercer screaming. Unfortunately, he couldn't keep the barrage up for long, and after several long seconds, the hail of lightning dissipated with one last crack of thunder, the city lights returning, leaving Cole exhausted and Mercer laying where he'd stood, covered in the same blackened char that coated the asphalt around him, where it hadn't outright melted.

Not believing for a moment that he'd won, Cole shakily stepped down from his perch, desperate to find another source of electricity to draw from, now that he had exhausted the generators. He passed by the inert form of his opponent, skirting it as widely as he could, and walked out onto the street. Before he'd taken more than three steps, though, he felt an amazingly strong hand clamp around his ankle and begin dragging him backwards, throwing off his balance and sending him to the ground. Reflexively, he turned and fired a bolt of electricity at Mercer, who only gripped tighter as spasms wracked his body. Cole heard the bones of his ankle painfully snap, and felt the vague sensation of his skin burning under Mercer's hand. Fearful that this was Mercer beginning to consume him, Cole desperately kicked him away, causing him to finally let go. Cole scooted backwards, still keeping with his plan to stay as far away from the mutant as possible, but found himself unable to stand due to his ankle, ultimately rendering his efforts useless.

Mercer didn't look to be in much better shape himself. His entire body had been burned by the electricity, leaving his skin and clothes blackened and mutilated. His face was a particularly horrific picture, looking like the face of a burned corpse, but still managing to continue moving, and was even now slowly repairing itself in sputters of red-black biomass as he dragged himself weakly forward. Cole could even hear the irregular whistle of his breathing, but this little subtlety was one of the first things to fade. With a ragged, inhuman sound that was half grunt, half moan, Mercer's arms slowly transformed into grayish, armored versions of themselves, the muscles beneath the skin bulging visibly as the virus overwrote and reformed its structure.

"What the hell is it that you want? You know I can keep this up just as long as you can, so you might as well just give up now," Mercer raspingly called out to his opponent, still moving backwards from the advancing mutant as fast as his injury would allow.

"You're never going to believe this, but I need to talk to you," Cole replied, taking the first step toward a truce by suddenly cutting off the arcs of electricity racing across his arms.

"That's it?" asked Alex, not certain if this was a trap. Nonetheless, his arms returned to normal in a brief cloud of red-black. "You could have f-king told me that a little earlier!" he shouted, enraged once more.

"I did. You just didn't listen."

Alex slammed a fist into the ground in frustration. "Fine," he spat. "Just who the hell are you, anyway? You know who I am."

"Cole MacGrath. I'm here to determine if you're going to be a threat to the rest of the world once this is all over and the quarantine is lifted."

"Judging by the fact that I'm still alive, you don't seem to have made up your mind on that quite yet."

"The fact that I'm still alive is making me lean in your favor," Cole told him. "I need to know what happened here."

"I'll tell you what I know, but not here."

With this, Alex nodded in the direction of the two guards, watching the conversation in awe from a nearby alley, one quite noticeably in the process of calling in reinforcements. He stood, subtly wavering for a moment before regaining his balance by what looked to be sheer willpower scaring his unsteadiness into submission. Already, just barely a minute after Cole had unloaded everything he'd had at him, Alex looked completely healed, if a little weak from the ordeal. Cole was also well on his way to recovery, however, and though it was still painful to walk on, his ankle would likely be as good as new within the hour.

Before Cole could protest, Alex lunged forward and grabbed him, quickly speeding up and launching them over a few cars before Cole's world turned ninety degrees as Alex ran up the side of the nearest building. How Mercer handled both the acceleration and the constant changes in perspective, he'd never know…