Part 51:
When Ya Gotta Go, Ya Gotta Go
By BobCat and Ash the Wanderer
Physics Police HQ, Thirty Minutes Later
"What the hell do you mean that you can't find this Vengeance guy!? I mean, he kinda sticks out!" Phil was currently pacing back and forth, his battle aura occasionally flaring up, reflecting his barely contained fury.
The wiry man readjusted his glasses so that they fit more comfortably across his large nose. His name was Sam, and he operated one of the thousands of sensor boards that allowed the Physics Police to monitor all of creation on a scale that few organisms could comprehend. It was said that the Physics Police knew everything thanks to these monitors; it was simply a matter of sifting through the useless data.
Sam had an annoyed look on his face. "Look, do you have any idea just how hard it is for us to look for a particular person if they're doing their best to remain hidden? Our sensors are geared towards scanning extradimensional phenomena. Those that we DO have pointed at the Earth are looking for something out of the ordinary, like an alien invasion or a ripple in space-time or something like that. You are asking me to find a person who is VERY good at hiding in a city so full of hiding places that it isn't even funny!"
Ecks was currently working on a cup of green tea. Trying to be helpful, she said, "Well, why don't you just use a Scouter or a Detect Magic spell to find him? I mean, he uses energy fields, right?"
Sam shook his head. "It isn't that simple. Whatever he's using, it isn't Chi or Manna. It's like some kind of odd fusion of both, neither a powerful as Chi, but it doesn't require the poetry of Manna to get off an attack. Since we haven't had any contact with the inhabitants of universe AK-BH7-8363-LE, we don't have any simple way of detecting his unique energy patterns. We could theoretically modify a Scouter, but it could take a while, even if we HAD a sample of his energy field."
Phil considered this. "So, what, we need to wait for him to strike again. The only problem is, this time he'll be expecting us." Phil adopted a contemplative look.
Ecks sipped the contents of her teacup. "Phil, what are you thinking of?"
"Well, if we stake out Blockbuster's place, that's a twenty-four hour job. That'll tax us, so we won't be in our best shape if and when he does strike. Which assumes he won't try to take him out en route between his office and wherever he lives when he isn't at work. What we need to do is figure out how he operates in a situation like this." Phil stopped in front of Ecks. "Give me your Hero-Dex."
"OK." Pulling out the small, Game Boy like device, the misfit Sailor Senshi handed it to Phil.
The ranking member of SU5 brought up Erik's file once again. "OK... cyborg... blades... able to sense a person's innocence... this is nice, but do we have anything about his past?" Phil looked at Ecks. "Ecks..."
Finishing off her tea, Ecks muttered, "Yeah, yeah. Find out about this guy from the main database. What am I, your secretary?"
Phil snorted. "Well, you sure as hell ain't a warrior. I mean, you REALLY need to work on your marksmanship." Insulted, Ecks began stomping towards the archives as fast as she could go.
Sam glanced at his watch. He was obviously annoyed with Phil. "Well, oh mighty Field Agent, do I have your leave?"
Phil waved the guy away, and the data analyst went back to his post. Phil strolled away without any real destination in mind.
That was when the voices in Phil's head started. One, which spoke with an archaic accent said, "Well, Squire, what now? Thou hast tasted the bitter nectar of defeat, and thy opponent was not forced to even land a blow."
Phil attempted to glare at himself. "Shaddap, Arthur. You know, this whole "the voices in my head are real" thing would be nicer if you or Io ever had anything useful to say."
The soul of the dead Senshi of Io spoke up. "Why protect this Blockbuster guy, anyway? From the sounds of it, he has it coming to him."
"Well Io, in case you didn't notice, Erik did sort of violate dimensional boundaries without anything approaching a license. Now he's interfering with the timeline of a universe that he hasn't even begun to understand. Unless he's an avid reader of DC Comics, I doubt he even knows where he is. To him, it's just another goal in his eternal war on evil."
Arthur said, "Well, I fail to see what thy problem is. It seems to me as if he and thou art very similar in thy methods."
Phil stopped. "What?"
Io chipped in, "Yeah, Phil. You kind of do dispense your own brand of vigilante justice."
Phil's aura flared a bright yellow, and his eyes began to flash between their normal green and turquoise. As the chief had told him he really wasn't supposed to go Super Saiyan, he was struggling to hold back the changes. "Well, IO, in case you didn't notice, I am at least slightly selective in who I kill. I have limited my homicide to those who were evil and supposed to die anyway. I scanned this guy's dossier, and he goes after ANYONE who he deems evil. Even children. I agree that Blockbuster is a bastard, and probably does deserve death. But, as evil as he is, he is a part of his home universe. Who knows what kind of bad effects removing him could have? Believe me, I've tried playing with timelines before, and it's never pretty."
Phil smashed his fist into his hand. "Besides, Erik made a fool out of me. Nobody does that. I want him. I want him BAD!" Phil smashed one of his fists straight through a wall, revealing a surprised accountant. Phil chuckled nervously, placing a hand on the back of his neck. "Heh heh. Sorry about that." Phil, realizing that it would be best to blow off some steam before he started blowing up headquarters, decided to make a quick visit to the gymnasium.
* * *
Meanwhile, Ralph was doing some investigating of his own. However, as opposed to using the Physics Police's archives, he was planning on using Jedi meditation to find his elusive quarry. Of course, the Jedi knew that his odds the Force telling him exactly where to find Vengeance were slim to none, but it could give him some insight on his situation.
Thus, upon returning to Physics Police HQ, he had locked the door to the barracks he shared with Phil, turned off his radio and the room's vidscreen, and was currently sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor.
Ralph let out a sigh as he let go of his conscious self. A few weeks on Dagobah with Yoda and regular practice aided by his Holocron allowed him to achieve this state. Ralph lapsed into a state of oneness with the Force. Ralph lost all concept of time and place. In fact, he forgot that he even existed as a separate being, as he was swallowed by the voices of the quadrillions of organisms that were connected by the Force. Ralph knew both all of existence at once, and an impregnable void.
After an amount of time beyond his comprehension, Ralph was shocked back into individuality as saw a pinpoint of light among the darkness. Ralph made no move to intercept the point, knowing after much trial and error that would only chase it away. Instead, he remained stationary, and let it come to him. The bright, white light swallowed him up, and when he opened his eyes, Ralph wasn't in Physics Police Headquarters anymore.
Ralph was in a post-apocalyptic wasteland. The sky was a disturbing blood red in color, and occasionally a bolt of lightning penetrated the unnaturally hued clouds. Several burned out hulks of buildings of all shapes and sizes surrounded him. Although he technically had no body here, he found himself walking through the rubble and picking over the occasional charred corpse. In some places, there were outlines that looked like shadows when there wasn't anything there to cast them. It reminded Ralph of photos he had seen of Hiroshima and Nagasaki after the atomic bombs had been dropped on them. Except for the clouds, that is.
As Ralph moved through the remains of what had once been a large city, he was suddenly knocked through the air by a massive shockwave. He slammed into the remains of a brick wall, crumbling it to dust. Yet, he felt no pain. As he returned to his feet, Ralph saw the source of the shockwave. A good distance away, two warriors were engaged in a savage midair battle.
Ralph immediately recognized Phil, who was surrounded by the shimmering aura of the Mystical Powerup. However, Ralph focused more on Phil's opponent. It looked like a creature straight from the pits of hell. It was humanoid, with the proper number of arms and legs, and a head in the proper place. Little else led one to think of Homo sapiens. Its blood red hair matched the sky, as did the aura of power that surrounded it. Its right and left arm looked to be composed entirely of metal, with other parts of the body looking slightly more natural. The metal wings that sprouted from its back were composed entirely of metal and ended in razor tips. From its rear sprouted a metal tail that possessed a mouth filled with sharp teeth at its end.
Ralph was too far away from the combatants to hear what they were yelling, but the intent became apparent once twin beams of red energy filled the air, intercepting at a point between Phil and the demon. For a moment, both pumped more energy into the growing ball of energy, but it eventually burst, spraying the area with shrapnel and filling the air with a blinding flash of light. When Ralph could stand to look again, both Phil and the winged monster looked unhurt.
Ralph's astral form saw a body, disrupted by the explosion, fly end over end through the air, coming to a stop with a sickening crunch as it landed on the remains of a fire hydrant. Ralph ran over, attempting to identify the victim of the battle. She was a pretty young woman with raven hair, and a slightly darker than average complexion that matched Erik's. Several bullet holes were apparent in her torso, and a small pool of blood was already growing at the base of the hydrant. Ralph guessed that it was only small because most of the blood had already left the corpse. The Jedi instinctively sensed that this one was important, although he couldn't comprehend why.
Phil cried out again, and began launching a barrage of Chi bolts at the demonic figure. The monster, utilizing all of its limbs, began to bat away the attacks, sending them flying every which way. One of the larger balls, through some stroke of fate, flew directly at Ralph. The Jedi attempted to erect a mystical barrier, but for some reason couldn't. As the blast consumed him...
... he sat up with a start. Covered in a layer of cold sweat, Ralph unbent his cramped legs from their sitting position. Looking at the clock on his wall, Ralph saw that nearly five hours had passed.
He shuddered. "What the hell was that thing? Who was that girl? Why was that winged thing so damned familiar?" As was the case with most visions left by the Force, there were many questions and few answers.
He utilized a Jedi breathing technique in order to calm himself. Seeing the amount of time that had passed, Ralph decided to report in for active duty. As he left his room, he debated whether or not to tell the others of his vision.
* * *
Meanwhile, in Bludhaven...
Her name was Linda Jorgensen. She was a woman in her early twenties, with long blonde hair and pale skin speaking of Scandinavian ancestry. She was clad in some loose jeans and a nice turtleneck. Although she was not going to be winning any beauty contests any time soon, she was reasonably attractive. She was a clerk at one of the few businesses in town that wasn't owned by Blockbuster or one of the other crime lords. It paid its dues, but its small size and out of the way location were such that it wasn't worth anybody's time to add it to their territory.
Perhaps her lack of affiliation with one of the mobs was the reason why she was currently fleeing for her life through the streets of Bludhaven. Most considered walking home at any time of the day suicide, particularly if the sun had shown even the slightest hint of setting. Especially if one was a woman, one of the favorite targets of the local street gangs. Having walked out at midnight after a late shift, most would think that she was crazy.
At the moment, she was just going through her second wind. Her leg muscles screamed for relief, just a quick break. However, the revving of motorcycles behind her forced her onward. Linda knew that they were playing with her; with their machines, they should have caught her long before now. However, she hoped against hope that she would reach a safe haven before she was subjected to a gang rape and murdered.
Taking a chance, she ducked into a back alley, hoping that it would lead her to the street across from her current path. As was typical for her, it was a closed alleyway. She wasn't the most athletic person under most circumstances. With her legs feeling like lead and ready to give out at any second, there was no way she could clear the brick wall. And then they moved in, easily trapping her.
She turned about to face her assailants. There were about a dozen of them, and they dismounted from their motorcycles with smirks on their faces. The lead man was incredibly ugly. Judging by his girth, Linda guessed that he weighed a minimum of three hundred and fifty pounds. His head was completely bald, but the hair in his nose compensated. His face was covered by scars and bristly hair. He licked his lips hungrily, revealing that he possessed less than half of his natural teeth. In a gruff voice, he chuckled. "Well, darlin,' we had ourselves a nice little chase there, didn't we? But, well, y'know, now you've lost. As the winners, we've come to collect our prize." His leer left little doubt what he wanted. His look was mirrored by his compatriots.
Linda pressed herself against the wall and started scratching it, as if she was attempting to dig her way through. "No! Please! I'll give you anything! Just don't touch me! Please! Help! Anyone!"
The man loomed over her. In a false hurt tone, he said, "Now darlin,' that ain't sportin,' to make us go through all o' that work just for you to say no. Now, let's have it, shall we?"
A voice from above snarled. "If you insist." The hideous man looked up, and a large foot smashed into his face. With an audible thud, the huge man fell to the concrete.
"What the hell're you!?"
Erik towered over the prone man. His artificial eye glowed a bright red, and both of his hands were balled up into fists. "I am the bringer of Justice to those who prey upon the weak and innocent. I am your worst nightmare taken to its extreme. I am Vengeance. I smell the foul stench of corruption upon each and every one of you, and unless you leave right now, you will all die in very unpleasant ways. No wait, that will happen no matter what you do." His hard glare confirmed what he was saying. And his taste for speeches filled with metaphors.
Wiping the flowing blood from his broken nose, the leader snarled. "Oh yeah, punk? Get 'im! And don't hurt the bitch!"
The bikers rushed Vengeance as a group. The width of the alley prevented more than two from attacking at once, which suited Erik just fine.
The first two attackers were armed with switchblades. The metal glinted dangerously in the moonlight. Erik glared coldly at the two. "You call those blades?" With the sound of metal upon metal, five blades slid from his artificial arm and snapped over his fingers and thumb. "THESE are blades!"
One halted, not wishing to tangle with an opponent with such superior reach. The other man, named Bill, was not so intelligent. He continued his charge with an inarticulate battle cry.
With a single maneuver, Erik brought the hand mounted claws down in a sideways slash. For a moment, it looked like Erik had missed. Bill continued his charge. Then, before the biker knew what was going on, his head and right arm separated from his body. The headless corpse continued for a few more steps, then slumped to the ground.
The second punk attempted to retreat. However, he was boxed in by his fellows. Still not willing to engage this new threat at close range, he threw his knife at Erik. The projectile's path was true, and it flew right for Erik's right eye. Then, with a blur of movement, he caught the knife. "Allow me to demonstrate the proper way to throw a knife." His arm a blur, Erik sent the metal blade into the punk's throat. Clutching at his neck, he slumped to the ground with a gurgle.
Another biker, this one armed with a chain, rushed towards Vengeance. "They got Jim! You bastard!" With a swipe of his arm, the punk sent the metal links flying at Erik. Erik, instead of taking them to the head, lifted up his natural left arm to block the strike. It wrapped around the limb, and Erik jerked it back, pulling the gang member towards him. Just before he rammed into Erik, the vigilante leveled his right arm. His blades bit deep into the torso of the punk. Erik removed him from his arm and stepped over him, leaving him to slowly bleed to death as he tried to keep his intestines from leaking onto the ground.
Slowly, Erik pointed at the bikers, who now knew they were up against something quite bad. Unfortunately, they didn't realize it soon enough.
"Eeeeny….meeny…miny…HEY MOE!" Erik snapped, even as the blades snapped back into his arm and the fingers split apart, more parts of his arm rearranging itself in less then a second.
And then his right arm began to spit a jelly-like substance at the bikers. In seconds, every man had a layer of the sticky substance on at least one part of their body. With one final snap, three more parts sprung out of his arm and formed into a flamethrower.
"I love a good barbeque, don't you?"
With that, a stream of flame burned over the men, igniting the napalm that clung stubbornly to their limbs and body. Grabbing Linda, he leapt over the brick wall in a single bound. He ignored their cries for help and mercy.
Looking at the blond woman, Erik asked, "Are you OK?"
"Please! Don't hurt me!"
Erik sighed. Was he so frightening, that she assumed that she was next? Most likely, but the taint of evil and corruption on this city was so great that he doubted that she would have trusted this "Nightwing," whoever he was.
Erik shot a hook up onto the building next to him, and began the relatively short climb. Denied his intended target for the time being, Erik had opted for a different tactic; a campaign against Blockbuster's support network. And it would continue until every one of the corrupt in the city of Bludhaven lay dead or dying.
* * *
Back at the Physics Police headquarters, it was a lot calmer then the corrupt town of Bludhaven. But violence lurked just below the surface, as Ecks read the info she had received back to Phil.
"Ok, first born child of Steve and…"
"I don't want his whole family history! Just tell me what made him all Tall, Dark, and Soon To Be Pounded?"
"Might I point out our orders are to subdue him and get him out of the DC universe." Ralph said, trying to be the voice of reason between the angry Phil and the resentful Ecks.
"I'll decide how much subduing is needed. Read on, Ecks."
Ecks tell, telling a sordid tale involving horrific atrocities inflicted upon both the innocent and non-innocent, crazy doctors with plans of world domination, and a woman so insane and evil she seemed almost a parody, a joke that could not possibly exist.
"Hey, there's something else here about this woman…uh Agony…fed on pain…wait, there's something classified here…damn, I don't have the clearance….ah, she's dead, so it doesn't matter... anyway, all the stuff made him REALLY hate people who do bad things to nice people like us. So he kills them. It hurts him to let them live, basically…wow, he's got a body count going into the thousands!"
"Can we stop marveling over the accomplishments and finish!"
"Sheesh! Ok fine…blah blah killed lots of people…world drastically changed through no fault of ours…became member of superhero/adventurer team called the Legacy…that's where the energy powers come from…spent most of his time trying to kill Agony and killing everyone who wasn't her…met his wife Celeste…here's the classified part…well, it ends with Agony's confirmed final death. Now he's married to Celeste…heh, get this, he's actually toned himself down…"
Phil's phone rang then.
"Hello?" Phil sad, and then all he did was listen. Then he hung up.
"Get ready guys, he seems to have toned himself back up. We have a trail we can follow. In corpses."
"Phil, are you sure you want to tangle with this Erik guy? He sounds kinda…scary." Io piped up as Phil ran for the nearest transporter room.
"You are welcome to hide if you want Io. I don't find angsty guys spouting bad Shakespeare scary." Phil shot back.
"But thy foe is also skilled and cunning, able to defeat you with a simple glamour that easily negated your far superior might."
"It wasn't a glamour! It was a hallucinogenic gas! Shut up both of you!"
The symbiote piped up as well, pondering if he could eat Erik's spleen.
"I may just let you!"
At least one of his personalities was happy.
Sam looked worried as Ralph ran in.
"What's the story?"
"Well, from our records, Erik is already causing massive problems. We just aren't set up for this! We're supposed to deal with tears involving lots of beings. This Erik is so…individual."
"What's he done?" Ralph said.
"He's already killed at least thirty people…but that we can fix. It is his current action which is causing the alarm."
"What's he doing?" Phil said as he darted around Ralph.
"He's trying to kill Nitewing."
"Nightwing? The normal hero in Bludhaven?"
"No…not Dick Grayson…it is…rather complicated…"
Indeed, Erik was not trying to kill Dick Grayson, who had once fought by Batman's side as Robin. Instead, his current victim was a man named Tad Ryerstad, an abused runaway who had grown up to be an angry young man who had tried the vigilante route himself. However, he lacked discipline and focus, and had hurt and killed innocent people as the result. Instead of a vigilante hero, he found himself a villain. That didn't stop him.
Erik had.
The two had crossed paths purely by coincidence. They had both wanted to inflict graphic bodily harm on the same drug dealer. Only, Erik had taken a good look at Nitewing and decided he wanted to inflict even more on him.
Nitewing had tried, but at heart he was little more then a thug who bludgeoned anything he deemed a threat. Erik was a highly trained warrior, who knew dozens of martial arts. Tad had been overmatched from the beginning and had been beaten from pillar to post. He had attempted to flee, but Erik had just played a macabre game of cat and mouse with him. Now Tad was cornered, hurting, and mad on one of Bludhaven's many skyscraper roofs.
"WASTOID!" he yelled, his mouth spraying bloody saliva as he threw a punch. Erik caught the arm, twisted it down, and smashed his foot across Tad's face and then followed through with a heel kick with the same leg. Tad flew backwards, his mouth spraying blood from freshly broken teeth.
"You should turn such judgment upon yourself." Erik hissed. Tad got up again, and then Erik broke his jaw with a snapping hook deliver with his metal arm. Tad tried to rise again, but Erik got there first and kicked him in the ribs so hard he was driven upward, right into Erik's elbow. He collapsed, groaning and muttering for his long gone mother.
Erik nudged him over with his foot and yanked him up by his shirt.
"It's almost a pity. Behind all that rage and viciousness I almost see good intentions. But don't forget what the path to hell if paved with." Erik whispered, no pity in his eyes.
All the defiance had been beaten out of Tad. All he could do was whimper. Another sign of weakness. It turned Erik's stomach.
"Are you gonna…kill me?"
"Maybe…maybe not…can you answer me a few questions?"
"Yes!"
"Where's Blockbuster?"
"Who?"
"Ok, assumed you had a brain. Ok buddy, what's 1+9?"
"….10?"
"Good. What's 5+5?"
"…10."
"7+3?"
"10."
"6+4?"
"10?"
"Good boy. Now the last question. What's an aluminum can made of?"
"Uh…tin?"
"NO, ALUMINUM!" Erik roared. He yanked Tad up.
"Mercy!" Tad begged.
"Mercy? You're looking for mercy?" Erik growled. Tad nodded frantically.
"Look somewhere else."
And Erik tossed Tad off the building. The still night air filled with his screams.
"Give my regards to the sidewalk!" Erik called after the falling body, and turned to leave. He had half a dozen other targets he wanted to strike before…
His enhanced ear twitched. No splat. Falling bodies went splat. That should not be…
Erik turned slowly as Phil rose up, holding Tad's now passed out body. With a sound of disgust, he dumped it on the roof.
"And…you got my clothes bloody…" Phil said. His aggravation had hit the boiling point. They had been zapped not to the fight, but to Erik's last victim before he had run into Tad. Ecks had taken one look at the hideously mutilated corpse, strung up with chains and with at least fifty needles sticking in his body (damn drug dealer!) and been violently sick. They'd left her to recover. Ralph couldn't fly, and had been reduced to the conventional method of running up the stairs (damn broken elevator!). Then Phil had had to catch Tad, and he'd bled all over him(damn brutal methods!). All in all, Phil was now good and pissed.
"You again. Who are you? Blockbuster's agents? No…you attacked him as well. This city's native heroes…if so, you do a lousy job…" Erik said, his calm pose hiding his razor alertness and observation of the situation.
"My name is Phil! And this time, YOU ARE UNDER ARREST!" Phil said, and zapped forward, his fist pistoning out…
And white energy suddenly manifested around Erik and formed into a sword, a sword he held out.
Phil punched it.
White energy leapt out and Phil found himself being blasted away. He almost flew off the roof before he stopped himself.
"DAMMIT!" Phil cursed, and blasted at Erik again. This time…
The white energy zapped out and smacked him again, this time disorienting him. He flew right into Erik's kick. He bounced along the roof a few more times before he got his feet again. This was impossible! He outclassed Erik in all aspects, how could he…
That sword. What had the files said?
"Strike with evil in your heart and you cannot defeat me, Phil. You walk a thin line already. Do not force me to destroy you if you stumble." Erik said, maintaining his calm demeanor. Phil looked and him and remembered. Of course. The Redemption blade. It repelled evil.
However, that was all Phil could think of as he stared at Erik. Cocky arrogant son of a…
The third charge failed as well, as the sword always seemed to find him just before his fist could find Erik. This time he smashed the brick stairway platform like Ralph had in the earlier fight.
"Brute force. Been there, done that, bought the T-Shirt." Erik taunted.
"That is not chivalrous!" Author said, taking control of Phil's body and voice for a second. Erik looked confused. Where had the accent come from?
"Chivalry? Where you been buddy? Chivalry died with the Middle Ages. This is the 21st Century. This is my world, and my rules."
"Arrogant cur!" Arthur cursed in Phil's head. "Teach him some manners, Squire!"
Forth charge. Same result. This time Phil hit the floor face first.
"You related to Goku? You use similar moves…abet inferior ones…" Erik said.
"Gonna rip your head off…" Phil cursed. He got to his feet and put his hands to his side, charging. He didn't need his Improved Technique. This would be sufficient.
"KAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA…"
Erik's eyebrows rose.
"MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE…"
He pulled up his arm and began punching buttons.
"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA…"
Erik reared back his arm and tossed something at Phil.
Phil ducked, and chuckled with satisfaction as he heard the sphere break on the roof behind him.
"Not this time jackass. MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE…"
And then he felt it, a tiny tingling. Like little legs running on him. He looked down.
The incredibly tiny droid let that look be the last, as it suddenly propelled itself upward.
Right into Phil's mouth.
Phil gagged as it jumped in, and the surprise caused him to reflex ably swallow…
GULP.
That sphere hadn't been more gas. It had been a carrying case for the robot, and once broken, it had raced out and onto him. And into him.
"What…how…"
"Don't worry. The MTD will dissolve with no harm to you…it's what in it that will be harmful…"
"You bastard…what was in there! A poison? A nerve toxin? Have you gone so mad that you kill anyone who faces you?"
"No…you are still on the Pure side. Barely. Your aura is…confusing…like you were…well, more then one person."
Phil would have burst into hysterical laughter if he hadn't been so worried at what he had just swallowed.
"Your path must be chosen carefully, Phil. Now, before you go, why am I being arrested? The obvious aside." Erik said.
"Bite me! What was in that thing?"
And then Phil's stomach rumbled ominously. Erik smirked.
"A laxative."
The rumbling got worse. Phil glared at Erik.
"A very quick acting laxative."
"I'M GONNA KILL YOU!" Phil bellowed, and flew off like all the demons of hell were after him. Erik chuckled to himself.
"Not likely. You'll be occupied for a bit. Look on the bright side, you'll feel pleasantly purged when it's over."
"Good. You can deal with me then."
Erik whirled at the new voice. Ralph stood calmly, having moved the wreckage of the stairway easily with the Force. Erik looked like he was trying to burn a hole through Ralph with his gaze, and then relaxed.
His talent. He's dubbed me as Pure. I think.
"They say your sword can't be broken…" Ralph said, unhooking the lightsaber. With a TSOHHHH!, it activated. "Neither can mine."
"I have no quarrel with you. Why do you insist on fighting me?" Erik said.
"It's my job. That sword can't hurt me. It can't cut the good at heart."
"No…but I have a mission. You seem to insist in interfering. I won't kill you…or hurt you…but if you insist on getting in my way…I will just have to show you the error of your ways." Erik said, and gave the Redemption blade some fancy twirls. Ralph blinked.
"May the Force be with me." He muttered, and attacked
The red blade of Ralph's energy sword met with Erik's white. Sparks leapt from the weapons. Ralph grunted as Erik's superior cybernetic strength forced his arms back. Ralph utilized the Force to leap over the vigilante's head and kick him in the back.
Ralph knew that he wasn't on par with anyone like Vegeta, Ryoko or even Ranma Saotome. Still, his efforts over the past year or so had taken an average man and put him to a new level entirely. He bet that he could beat Captain America in an arm wrestling contest and come out on top, an impressive feat for one that lacked chemical enhancement.
Which is why Ralph got VERY nervous when Erik didn't even seem to notice the blow. Spinning around, Erik attempted to catch Ralph with the Redemption Blade with a double handed swipe.
It was performed very nicely, and even though the blade wouldn't have killed Ralph, he would have had a very nice headache.
Had Ralph been there. Using a bit of the Force, Ralph leapt nearly twenty feet from a standing position.
Erik shifted his weight, coming down into a crouching position. He held the Redemption blade in a ready position. He took note of Ralph's attire and weapon. "What are you, some kind of Star Wars fanboy?"
Ralph leveled a steady glare at Erik. "No. I am a Jedi Knight. The Force is my ally, and a powerful ally it is." Ralph shut off his lightsaber, and cupped one hand, acting as if he was lifting something.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, he heard a whistling noise from behind. He fell to the ground, and a brick skimmed his head. He leapt backwards as a metal pole embedded itself in the rooftop where his head had been a second before. A pair of bricks lashed out from either side of him, one ricocheting off of his right arm, with the other narrowly avoided by a midair change of direction.
Ralph clipped his lightsaber onto his belt, and both of his hands got into the act. Erik was suddenly forced to dodge a hail of random debris. Although he managed to dodge most of it, Erik found himself being slowly whittled down. Unless something changed fast, he was in trouble.
Then, just as suddenly as the assault had begun, it ended. Erik glanced over to Ralph, to see the Jedi Knight panting. Although Ralph could hypothetically lift X-Wings, it took massive amounts of concentration.
Erik smirked. "Burned yourself out, I see." He charged at Ralph, who stood his ground. Erik slashed down...
…only to find that he had sliced a fairly large brick wall into two pieces. The top half, suddenly robbed of support, slid down the angled cut, and fell.
On Erik.
The Redemption Blade sliced through the hard wall like it was tissue paper, and bricks rained down on either side of him as Erik clawed his way out from under the rubble. "What the..."
Ralph smirked. "I can't control your mind directly, but I can plant a suggestion. Such as, 'The Jedi is on the other side of the roof, right beneath that brick wall.' A very good thing to know."
Erik leapt at Ralph, sword swinging. The vigilante halted in mid air. For a moment, Erik was confused. Then, he saw the strained look on Ralph's face. He was the reason that gravity was taking a vacation.
Ralph cried out, "Force Push!" Erik went flying, almost off of the roof. At the last moment, he smashed into the remains of the wall, which crumbled around him.
Ralph panted. With as much Force as he'd used, telekinesis was out. However, he did have other talents.
Ralph mumbled words of an archaic language. Up until now, he had relied upon his Jedi skills. However, he was also a low level mage. His hands burned with flame as the spell was finished.
After extricating himself from the pile of bricks, Erik hadn't remained stationary. He knew a mage, and had a pretty good idea of what Ralph was doing.
However, before Erik could find cover or charge up his own counterassault, Ralph cried out, "Fireball Storm!" In a very excellent imitation of Gotenks' Renzoku Shine Missile, Ralph pumped his hands back and forth. Instead of Chi, however, Ralph let loose with, as the name implied, fireballs.
Erik managed to dodge a good number of them, but when the barrage ceased, parts of his black jumpsuit were on fire.
Ralph's breathing had grown even more ragged. "You like... barbeques? How... about being the... main course?"
Meanwhile, Erik's right arm shifted, and soon a nozzle formed where his right hand should have been. Erik pointed the fire extinguisher at himself. "Thanks, I'd rather not." In a split second, Ralph's mystical flame had been extinguished by the foam.
Ralph cursed. "Damn! How'd you... what are you... Swiss Army Man?"
Erik allowed the Redemption Blade to dissipate. "Well, Jedi or not, you're out of steam. I'll be leaving now. And don't interfere with me again." With that, Erik stepped backwards over the edge of the building.
Ralph didn't bother trying to find the vigilante, figuring that he would already be gone. After all, as a DC universe, it was perfectly in genre. He punched a few buttons on his wristwatch. "This is Ralph. Transport for one." In seconds, a hole in the fabric of space-time opened up. Ralph stepped into the red and white circle, which closed seconds later.
Meanwhile, Phil was having a date with a throne. However, we shall skip over that unpleasantness.
* * *
A few hours later...
In the remains of his office, Blockbuster stood in the darkness. It wasn't because he preferred the lack of illumination. He enjoyed light as much as the next person. It was simply that all of the lamps and light bulbs in his office had been destroyed when that bomb had gone off in his office.
He remembered it perfectly. He had been talking with his mother. Blockbuster smiled a bit at this. It was amazing how much she fussed over him. His enemies, and there were many of them, would have doubted that he even HAD a mother, much less one that doted upon him so much.
A few minutes into the conversation, one of his aids had brought a package into his office. The man, Walter he believed, had stated that it was off the utmost importance that he opened it immediately. Blockbuster had told his mother that he would call back, when the package went off. The explosion had been horrible; it had killed everyone in the building except for him, and he had been left with numerous wounds from the shrapnel.
Of course, Blockbuster had a feeling that something wasn't right about the whole sequence of events. For one thing, he hadn't remembered ever having an aide who had the authority to barge into his office unannounced, much less one named Walter.
For another, his own observations and the opinions of a private surgeon he had on retainer indicated that the numerous chest wounds he had suffered lacked any sign of foreign objects. So, the wounds were not caused by shrapnel, and looked to be more like he had been repeatedly stabbed. Plus, even if flying debris had inflicted them, they would not have been localized in his torso region like that.
Then, there was the fact that any package would have had to sneak its way through several metal detectors and at least fifty well paid security agents. The odds of any bomb getting through there, much less one capable of the damage caused, were infinitesimally small.
His office didn't even look like a bomb had gone off in the premises. Tables and chairs were smashed and walls were knocked down, but there was absolutely no evidence of an explosion.
His own body also gave lie to the nature of the attack. His arms and legs ached slightly, like they had been used in combat.
A look around the building had shown that the structure was still pristine, with the exception of his own office. There was no evidence of an explosion large enough to kill every last man and woman in the place. Instead, all of them looked to have been killed individually in incredibly gruesome ways. So gruesome, even he, who had ordered some unpleasant executions, and caused some himself, shuddered. One man had been hung with his own intestines in the men's room on the third floor! Even HE found that absolutely horrible.
After all, now they would all have to be replaced, and that would be costly. Not to mention the cleaning bills.
And the most decisive reason to doubt his memory was that he had a feeling in his gut. It was much the same sensation he had felt after the devil had granted him intelligence; his mind had been violated. He wasn't sure how he knew it, but he did.
Blockbuster was a logical man, and all of the empirical data pointed to a new hypothesis; there had been no bomb attack. Some lone vigilante had gone through his building, killing everyone in his path. The lunatic, planning to finish his massacre with Blockbuster, had burst into his office and attacked him with a sword of some kind. Blockbuster had been able to fend him off and had been ready to give the killing blow, but the assassin had used some kind of unknown method to rewrite his memory, and had done a poor job of it.
Then, the reports had started coming in. Somebody was going through Bludhaven, slaying everyone in his path. That he had only cut down those employed by Blockbuster was all too coincidental in the crime lord's mind. What were the odds of an aborted assassination attempt AND a campaign against his empire occurring in the same night and not being connected? Slim and none, and Slim had just left town.
Some might consider it foolish to stay in one place after an attempt on your life. Those same people would consider it lunacy to remain where the attack had taken place. However, Blockbuster was very aware of this, and assumed that any assassin would think the same way. Blockbuster had learned early on in his career that doing what your opponent didn't expect was the best policy.
The custom-made phone in his right hand had survived the attack. It was very fortunate that it was composed of a titanium alloy. Considering his mood, the strain his enraged grip was putting on it would have shattered had it been made of anything less.
"Hello? Yes, this is Desmond. No, actually, I'm not doing well. I have a pest problem, and I require your services. No, it isn't Nightwing. I'm not sure who he is or what he looks like. He'll be rather obvious; he is the man who is surrounded by the dead and bleeding bodies of my men! Yes, the usual fee. No, I DON'T want him alive! The living can cause problems, while the dead tend to stay that way. I want all of you on this one; from what I can gather, he took me on in single combat and survived." Blockbuster sighed. "No, I don't particularly feel like telling you why I'm not sure if we fought. What, Shrike isn't available? Damn it! Well, do it without him! Electrocutioner is also out of town as well? Curses. Well, just you three then! I want his head on a platter by tomorrow night!" With that, he hung up on the man. At that moment, the phone gave a shriek and smashed into a small pile of scrap. "Hmmm. I must learn to control my temper. Well, dealing with this would be assassin should do wonders for my mood." Maniacal laughter seemed appropriate, but as Blockbuster had never been too good at it, he refrained from anything more than a light chuckle.
* * *
Meanwhile, at Physics Police HQ...
"Damn him damn him Damn Him DAMN HIM DAMN HIM!" As he paced back and forth, Phil's aura was a pure yellow in color, and given his rage, he was struggling to hold back the Super Saiyan transformation. He had just spent the last few hours in the water closet, and it hadn't done much for his mood, or the mood of his 'roommates.' "How the hell does he do it? How?"
Ralph sighed. "Well, Phil, he used a little thing called tactics. He knows that he can't beat you in a head on confrontation, so he's been consistently outsmarting you."
Phil halted. "Hmmm. You may have a point there. But it's not like you did much better."
Ralph glared. "Are you saying I'm incompetent?"
Phil shook his head. "Not quite. You're more overenthusiastic than incompetent. I mean, Ralph, the Force is with you, but you are Darth Vader! You always do this; you put too much Force and Manna into your attacks, and end up drained when your opponents dodge or shrug them off. It happened when you fought the Sailor Senshi, Cell and now with Erik. Pace yourself, man! Am I right, Ecks?" She didn't respond. "Ecks?"
Ecks was simply staring straight ahead. She still couldn't get the image of that drug dealer out of her head, and it weighed heavily upon her mind. Phil noticed this and said, "Um, Ecks? Is everything OK?"
The young girl shook her head. "No. No it isn't." She started chuckling. "Phil, just how stupid was I?"
Phil and Ralph were both confused.
The Sailor Senshi noted their lack of comprehension. "I mean, when you first met me. I found that discarded, faulty transformation pen in a dumpster, blurted out, "Sailor Ecks transformation," and boom, I had powers far beyond those of mortal men. Or did I? I'm useless! I mean, I took down Kerrigan, but you did all of the hard work. I just snuck in and hit her when she was softened up. I thought I could make a difference. Even when you guys made me join the Physics Police, I honestly believed that I could be a significant player. That I had power and could help people. Damn it all, I was so stupid and naive."
Phil came up next to her, sat down and put a hand on her shoulder. "Ah, c'mon, Ecks. You're as competent as any of the Senshi."
She glared at her superior. "Oh, gee thanks! Like THAT'S supposed to make me feel better! You're always bad-mouthing them at any and every opportunity! I can't hurt anyone! Majin Buu, that version of Cell we fought, hell, I couldn't even hurt a damned Velociraptor!" The tears were now running down her cheeks.
"Damn it, I'm even more useless against this Vengeance guy! I mean, if he can take on you and Ralph, what chance do I have? None, that's what! Seeing that guy handing there, needles jammed in everywhere, I... I just couldn't take it anymore! I couldn't help him! I couldn't help any of them! I DON'T DESERVE TO LIVE, I'M SO DAMN USELESS!" She started to weep openly.
Phil took her up in a hug, making what he hoped were comforting noises. However, that was more Io's doing. Mainly because Phil was so enraged that he could hardly avoid going Super. All that held him back was the knowledge that he would crush Ecks like an egg if he did.
Phil was currently inhabiting the astral plane, along with Arthur and the mental projection of his alien symbiote. He addressed the dead British King. "Arthur, this ends now."
"Excuse me, Squire? Thou hast not been successful yet. What makes thou think that thou can best him when next thou sees him?"
Phil was clenching and unclenching his hands angrily. "He is the biggest hypocrite in the multiverse. I mean, look at poor Ecks! He claims to protect the innocent. Well, Ecks was about the most innocent person I've ever met. She was almost childlike. Now, she doubts her ability to do anything. He crushed her spirit! Sure, she wasn't the most powerful member of the team, or the most versatile, but she did her part! Now... well, she'll never be the same again. These people Erik killed were the scum of the Earth, completely irredeemable. Yet, her basic goodness allowed her to feel for them, and pity them. And that has scarred her soul." He eyed the symbiote's image, getting the inklings of an idea. "Well, he will go back to his own world in chains, or in a plastic bag. And to catch a vigilante, we need to surprise him. Here's the idea..."
End Part 51
