Snip #32

I ran.

I immersed myself in my route through the trainyards. The sharp chill of the morning burned my lungs with every breath I took, and stung my face even through the fabric as I ran through the still air. It was steadily losing to the morning sun, however. I could feel the warmth on my back when the rays shone above the buildings, the infusion of heat waking my sluggish muscles almost as if I was solar powered.

Even the flashes of overexertion were a welcome friend in the background of my running, as well as the aches of my muscles and the sweat dripping from my brow. They were good feelings, every single one of them.

Exercise was a simple expression of work and reward. By trading willpower and effort, I gained physical ability in return. What was that phrase again? 'No pain, no gain'?

And it was a mindless activity almost as automatic as breathing, my fitness having long surpassed the days where I struggled against my body's complaints. It left my mind free to think as I continued to put one foot in front of the other, to muse on plans and recall situations… or to simply rest, indulging in the relaxation of mindless activity as my body continued to busy itself.

And the latter was what I chose to do this morning, barely taking note of my surroundings as I dashed past the intersection, reaching the other side just as the blinking green man of the crossing changed into red. I continued onwards into downtown proper, relegating the outside world into the background as I continued on my route.

I blinked, finally noticing something despite my inattention.

I was still running along a familiar path, but somewhere along the way I had picked up jogging mates.

There were twelve of them in total, their clothing unifying them as a group. Their uniform consists of loose unmarked green tees which seemed a bit too little for the chill, paired off with equally loose camouflage pants and shiny black boots. Their unity was further emphasized by their two by six formation, as well as the sounds of their stomps as they put their boots down in sync.

Except for the lack of a rousing marching song, it was almost as if these morning runners came out of the boot camps of military movies. I did not recall there being any sort of military bases in Downtown… were there? Or were these military geeks, people who chased after the fantasy of being a soldier?

No, I did not think so. The evidence was in their hardly hidden physique, the hints of abs showing through the clinging wet shirts and the bulging muscles easily seen on their arms. It took time and effort to be this well built, and from my own experience, most of those who fantasize about becoming soldiers without being one for real tended to NOT have such a body.

There was only one group who'd fit. Mister Smile's boss… what was the name again? Package? Bundle? No, it was something about loops, coils, circles… oh.

That was it! Coil.

But if it was Coil's men running on the other side of the road, it made them being here all that weirder. Wasn't Coil branded as a Villain? Downtown was the area where everything lawful was housed in: the PRT, the courtrooms, the police precinct office and the local governor's office, to name a few.

Was Coil trying to make a bold statement with his men, dressed as they were out in the open in the middle of downtown just before the business day?

… Meh, whatever he was thinking, it should not be my problem. Not yet anyway.

We continued to run in silence, wordlessly accompanying each other as we headed westward along the main road. Soon enough, our paths diverged; they took a left to turn to turn back towards the heart of Downtown, while I continued onwards around the corner and towards… a barrier.

Oh, right.

I had followed my usual route. My usual route ran through Capitol Hill Park.

By habit, I had stumbled into the very place I was out for a run to forget.

And it was guarded.

Three men loitered near a large pale blue van behind the park's main entrance, and they turned towards me as I stopped in front of the barricades. They were dressed in a set of black and blue, a combination of bulky riot gear and BBPD uniforms, with a mix of armor and police threads. Rectangular shields rested on the ground, thin blue strings connecting the protective equipment to their belts. Their helmets and what bits of their more day-to-day uniform showing through the armor vests displayed the instantly recognizable hybrid shield-star symbol of the law.

Each of them picked up or held a baton casually on their hands. One of them stood up, adjusted the shield hanging by his thigh, and approached.

"Park's still closed..." The aged but not old man slurred in a lazy, almost folksy accent, as if he was a friend. His mannerism told me a different story; sharp eyes on a stern, worn face regarded me, the smile on the lips faint and compressed.

Judging from his shoulder stripes, he was a sergeant and the highest ranking of the trio.

He continued without pause, "…unless you're with the Protectorate?"

"No sir. I'm not." I replied.

I saw the officer's compatriots tense as I replied. They appeared to still be toying with their batons, but one of them rested a hand on his pistol's hostler, while the other slowly and deliberately put a pen back into his right pocket, adjusting the radio receiver clipped there as he did so.

"Thought you were, especially with the…" the sergeant struggled to say something before he settled with waving at me, "'that'. So, what brings you here?"

"I came here by mistake, sir. This is my old route."

"Route?"

"I'm jogging. You know, exercising for health, getting stronger and fitter, unlocking perfect abs, the key to ultimate power and all that."

"Oh. Hmm…" The sergeant said in response. His intense stare continued from under the rim of his helmet as he looked me up and down, as if the lawman was judging me for something. I could easily imagine the arched eyebrows hidden underneath the protective Kevlar dome.

"You're a cape, aren't you?"

It wasn't a surprising question, but yet somehow it still caught me off-guard.

"Erm… yes?"

"You're with us?"

"Pardon?"

"Are you with. The. Law?" He stared daggers at me as he intoned his question. His hand shifted behind him, out of sight, as he stretched himself up as straight and tall as he could be.

Oh. Right.

"What was that phrase again?" I thought out loud as I tried to remember as quickly as possible, "Ah yes. Tai~aaa~ *ahem* They said I'm usually called an 'independent hero'."

The sergeant had an intent look in his eyes as he looked me up and down again. Behind him, the one with an arm on his pistol accidentally dropped the baton he was twirling, but he did not move to pick it up.

"So, with us then." The sergeant finally announced. He had that tight smile lacking in humor on his face as he nodded, placing both his hands on the barricade between us as he slumped forward. "I don't recognize your getup, son. You new?"

"I have had a few fights… but yes, I'm new sir."

"A few fights already? That's… interesting." The sergeant replied, turning towards his peers and giving an almost imperceptible nod. The others slumped slightly with relief, relaxing as they began to talk amongst themselves.

My attention on the two in the background was interrupted as the sergeant continued, "Well, good luck with your… exercise."

"Thanks," I replied, before I realized the sergeant could help me with something. "Oh, by the way, do you have any idea when the park will be open?"

"No idea." The sergeant thumbed his right hand in the direction of the park. "Some tinker something reality warping something device is giving the Protectorate... problems in there. It may take a while to resolve."

"That's… not good. Heard the fight damaged a few things in there." I lied.

"Indeed. It looks like a warzone… oh, and you did not hear that from me."

"… hear what?" I grinned.

The Sergeant smiled a little wider, "Anything else?"

"I'm ok. Thanks."

"Carry on then, son. Keep up the good work."

"Officers." I said loudly as I nodded my goodbyes, once to the sergeant, another to the pair behind him. I turned, my mind already trying to figure out how to get beyond the fenced off park.

That was when I heard the sound of spitting.

"I guess those Pissing Renal Trolls haven't deemed it important enough to inform us of the new guy yet, haven't they?" The soft sounds of the sergeant grumbling reached my ears as the spittle hit the ground. "And 'Hero' he says. 'Fight' he says. Goddamned PR deluded fools all of them, the law isn't upheld only by…"

What was that all about? I had half a mind to turn around and demand an answer to my confusion… but then I remembered the pig.

'Meh', I started to run off, 'it's so not worth it'.