(A/N) Hey guys, sorry about the slight delay on this one, that's all been entirely down to me. Unfortunately, Maple Alycia Hood has disappeared off the grid at the moment, but thankfully Mina, who writes for our Grifball and Freelancer fics, offered to fill in for her, and she's turned in a fantastic chapter right here. You never know, maybe we'll be seeing more of her in the future!
Enjoy!
Chapter Twenty-Eight – Zero to Hero
Dr Michael Jones / Mogar
Written by Minaethiel
"Heroes are made by the paths they choose, not the powers they are graced with." – Brodi Ashton, Everneath
"So, have your fans made any comments about Mogar since he appeared?"
Michael found himself surprised by the sudden change of topic. They had previously been discussing the fact that he had just changed his license plate to "00Mogar", as opposed to discussing the fans of Rage Quit, his YouTube channel. Most of them were either bitching about how some ugly ass hulk wannabe had stolen his name (Mogar hadn't been happy with those kinds of comments), or were now idolizing him as some sort of hero, as if he was Mogar to them no matter what anyone else said. Him, a hero. What a joke. Maybe before the whole kidnapping had went down he'd felt the desire to help out X-Ray and Vav in protecting the city, but now he was more worried about keeping Mogar under control.
If you ever slip up, I'll take that opportunity and never let go. You better remember that, you prick. You can't keep me locked up forever.
Lindsay being around had helped immensely with keeping his less agreeable "roommate" (or rather, headmate) under control. She was a daily reminder that he was perfectly capable of being Michael Jones, and not some giant rampaging rage-monster. He'd hesitated at first to continue Rage Quit after the FBI had released him from their custody, but Lindsay had told him that disappointing his fans by being a pussy was out of the question. So he'd just continued on as if he wasn't a now-dangerous ball of rage. Surprisingly, he found that it had actually helped, that using the channel as means of venting his rage helped keep Mogar down, and so he had been putting out more videos than ever, while continuing to work as a surgeon.
"Well you know, half of them are as angry as me – or pretend to be – so you can imagine they were complaining about Mogar more than he was about them, and that's saying something."
Mogar's complaints, surprise surprise, had been a load of bullshit. After being relentless in bothering Michael about his choice of an "egghead hobby," Mogar had made certain to start bitching about – and insulting – each commenter that pissed him off. So, pretty much all of them.
Lindsay opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by sudden – and loud – bursts of gunfire. Worst of all, it sounded like it was nearby. Great. As if he needed any more fucking trouble. However as he heard sirens wailing, he realized that with all the crazy shit happening in this city, it would be best for him to get far away. It would also probably be best to make sure the side he preferred won. Damn it, and all he had wanted to do today was take Lindsay out for a nice dinner, to make up for the one he had missed.
"Come on," he urged, sprinting away from the sound of gunfire and practically dragging Lindsay behind him. Safe safe safe... where would be safest? Well, nowhere really. Finally, he found an alley, with only one entrance and plenty of trashcans to hide behind. It's as good of a place as any.
"Seriously, Michael?" Lindsay questioned incredulously, staring in disbelief at the chosen spot.
"Do you see anywhere better?" he protested hotly. "Look, I'm sorry, but I have to go help them out. I can't do that from miles upon miles away, even if that's where I want YOU to be, and-"
"Oh shut up and go already," she said with a small smile, and nodded towards the direction that the gunfire was still ringing out from. However, she also frowned and added, "If anything happens to YOU, I'll be really pissed off, you hear me?"
Michael nodded and left the alley, drawing the diamond sword from the makeshift sheath he wore on his belt.
It's about time you did something fun, asshole.
Fuck off. Like I need your opinion.
He could only imagine what kind of rage Gavin would induce in Mogar. He briefly hoped that his friend wasn't out and about while this bullshit was happening. Gavin could hardly handle work in the surgery room without Michael holding his hand the entire time. He couldn't begin to imagine how Gavin would respond to this sort of situation. However, he merely sighed and put it out of his mind. Michael didn't have time to think about that right now.
Instead, he focused on the things that made him angriest, breaking down all of the mental shackles that he had placed on Mogar, making it easier and easier for the beast to break free. Fury, boiling and strong, coursed through him, and with a guttural roar, he felt his entire body growing in size. The sword grew with him, its weight feeling like a toothpick in his hand.
He looked down the street to see which group of policemen needed his help most. There! A group of five had barricaded themselves in a storefront. At least twenty men assaulted their position. A feeling of familiarity clicked in Michael's head at their appearance, though he couldn't place where he had seen men like them before. The answer was practically spat at him by Mogar. They all looked just like that M. Bison dude that dumped him on the street after the Community had finished experimenting on him. Wow, what a bunch of wannabes. Could these guys BE bigger assholes?
Apparently they could, as Michael was brought back into the moment by an explosion, as the storefront was blown forward into the street. Wooden, metal and glass shrapnel peppered the road, with screams of terror rising into the air from civilians who hadn't yet taken cover from the vicious onslaught.
Get moving, hero boy, Mogar demanded sarcastically, fuelling Michael's already bursting anger.
With a furious yell of rage, Michael practically flew down the street, smashing a meaty fist into one man, and slicing another man neatly in half with his sword. There were no faces to be seen through their masks, but Michael could imagine the looks of utter disbelief and terror on their faces. Bones could be heard breaking as Michael slammed the hilt of his sword onto one man's head, who had dared to begin shooting at him. The man crumpled under the immense strength that Michael had thrown behind the blow, and he felt the briefest stirrings of remorse. These guys were evil as fuck, of that he had no doubts, but they still had to have families… right?
You're so fucking weak. It's you or them! Quit being such a bitch and KILL THEM ALREADY!
"I." Another man fell to his diamond sword.
"Am not." His clawed fist flung another soldier into the front of a store, where he burst through the front window, limbs flailing like a ragdoll.
"A BITCH!" The terrified scream of a female aggressor was cut off as Michael slammed his sword down through her body, two halves falling between his sword. Shouts of shock sounded behind him, and he realized that the last time the police had seen him, it had been with Mogar rampaging through town.
Oh I'm so terribly sorry. If they're too chickenshit to put two and two together, maybe they don't NEED your help!
But they did, Michael knew this. Wannabe M. Bison-like soldiers or not, for every one he had killed, it seemed like two or four had replaced their fallen friends.
"Fall back!" he heard one officer call over of the din of gunfire and carnage. "Fall back to King Street!"
There was far less gunfire coming from the side the police officers had occupied now. Michael knew right off the bat that King Street was just around the corner. Judging from the amount of sirens coming from that way, the assault these soldiers, mercenaries, whatever the fuck they were, had started was spread throughout the city.
Just another day in Achievement City, at least, of late.
King Street was their destination for two reasons, he suspected. It had plenty of stupid kingly statues along it that provided cover, and it also only had two streets feeding into it. A couple of alleys connected it as well, but they'd be either barricaded or stuffed with bodies if they did it right. Damn, who knew video games could teach tactical decision making? Regardless, the behemoth that had been Michael, and was now something in between himself and Mogar, made sure to keep the mob following the cops busy – at least until they had all rounded the corner – before he himself followed.
He never really paid attention to these statues before. Gavin swore one of them looked like him. Michael would have noted how fucking stupid of an idea that was, but one of the statues DID have his nose… And with that realization, there had been no further arguing with him.
King Mog-no, King Michael. It had a ring to it, alright.
Now, bullet holes pocketed each statue, as the AHPD took cover behind them, providing some semblance of protection from their assailants. Michael went to work, cutting crimson swaths through the waves of enemies. Yet even more kept coming to replace them, and Michael's fury kept growing. How many of these motherfuckers WERE THERE?! If he had to slap one more asshole that tried to stab him or something equally stupid as shit, he'd-
A tap on his arm caused him to spin around, his arms rising up to bring the sword down brutally on whatever had dared to touch him, but instead he was met by yet another familiar figure. The night that Mogar had first appeared flashed briefly in his mind, as he stared at the little golem that had become one of many protectors of the city. Maybe he shouldn't have been surprised when he looked up and saw Iron-Ryan wading through his own personal slice of chaos. The villain-turned-hero was almost – not even that, dumbass – as strong as Mogar himself, and the bodies that he left in his wake were a testament to that strength.
Michael sprinted through the middle of the street, cutting or brutally displacing anyone that got in his way. The half-mechanical man barely turned to face him as he slammed a fist into the face of someone who, seconds before, had been taking aim at one of the policemen on the other side of the street.
Michael responded by rushing a man who had been aiming at Iron-Ryan, and slamming his sword through the man's midsection. He picked him up effortlessly and threw him into two other soldiers, and all three tumbled to the ground in a broken heap. Michael moved to Ryan's side again, hoping the cyborg would have some answers for him.
"Where are these motherfuckers coming from?! I don't think Achievement City can hold this many mercenary guys, or whatever the hell they are! Not without blowing cover or some shit!" he roared, his transformed larynx not entirely used to forming longer sentences, and some of what he had intended to say was no doubt made unintelligible.
The cyborg looked at him briefly, narrowing his eyes in thought for a split second, before nodding in satisfaction, having formulated an answer.
"The sewers. They could easily hold a force of this size and allow quick, unseen manoeuvring throughout the city. No one goes down into the sewers unless maintenance is required, meaning that any chance of discovery would be minimal, and certainly easily eliminated. And before you ask who sent them, I think we both know the answer to that. The Community have probably been setting this up for months."
"The Community," Michael repeated in a growl, shearing the head off of another man, as he moved through the battlefield in a merciless warpath. Those fuckers would pay dearly for what they'd done to him. They'd pay if it was the last thing he did.
I want a piece of those cocksuckers too. It's because of them that I'm stuck with your sorry ass.
The feeling is mutual, Michael snapped back without a pause.
However, for all the strength between Michael and Ryan, he could tell without even seeing it that they were being forced back down the street, and towards City Hall. While the building itself would be easily defensible, who knew whether or not the Community had been banking on their drawback the entire time? More importantly, why weren't X-Ray and Vav on the scene? They were the heroes of the city – fucking undefeated. They'd faced HIM down after all. What were a bunch of bitchy little soldiers?
He shot a quick look at Iron-Ryan from the corner of his eye. He'd worked with X-Ray and Vav for a while now. Perhaps he knew where they were. Ignoring the inhuman squelch under his feet as he ran back towards the metal man, Michael placed a giant hand on his shoulder and spun him around.
"Where are X-Ray and Vav? Shouldn't they be here too?" 'Shouldn't' had been particularly difficult to say, coming out as more of a 'shuldna', but he was pretty sure the cyborg would be able to work it out.
"They go where they're needed most," he noted with a shrug, "but I don't know what could be more pressing than our current situation."
How fucking reassuring. As if the answer could get any worse.
"Follow me," the cyborg suddenly intoned, after a high-pitched robotic whirr had burst into the air, dying down after a brief second. "I have received information that Agents Burns and Heyman wish to speak with us. They've set up base within City Hall, and are coordinating the defence."
Us?
Michael wasn't sure if the thought was his or Mogar's, but they were clearly both thinking the same thing. Nevertheless, they evacuated from the fight, cutting down whoever happened to get in their way. Michael hadn't thought about how unbearable the drone of gunfire was, until the two of them were walking out of the battlefield, and he realized he hadn't thought about it once since entering the fray. Blood coated his sword and his body. Even if his shirt were somehow salvageable, the pieces left were coated in crimson. Damn. If this bullshit kept up he'd probably run out of shirts before long.
He'd seen Agent Burns and Agent Heyman maybe once or twice before, he remembered, as he made his way up the steps to the City Hall, the black and green Achievement City flag fluttering above it in the breeze. He couldn't really remember exactly how many times, but he was pretty sure they had been mentioned in his file, when Dr Sorala had been discussing it with him. However he expected that the scowls on their faces were permanent additions.
"Iron-Ryan, Mogar, we have a situation-" J-Roll began gravely, before being interrupted.
Michael gestured behind them and didn't hold back his snort of derision. "A situation? No shit, and here I thought we were having a fucking tea party! Of course we have a fucking situation!"
"-regarding X-Ray and Vav," the agent finished, directing a glare at Michael, and that promptly shut him up.
Oh. Well that was a whole different situation.
"Where are they?" Iron-Ryan asked immediately, in an effort to gain clarification, and the handful of his golems that had followed him began to skitter about impatiently, clearly eager to make their way to the missing heroes.
"That's the problem," Burns cut in, grimacing. "They requested backup on the docks about ten seconds before all of this shit blew up. We weren't able to send any additional manpower to help them out, every officer in the city have been penned down."
"So what? They're probably just waiting for you to make an arrest or something."
"We haven't heard anything from them since they last contacted us," J-Roll finished sternly. "If they were in any position to help us, they'd be here right now. That's not just what they do, that's who are they are. For now, we're on our own, and so are they, wherever they are."
In the background, he heard the gunfire start up again.
