Q-Ball ran at me and twisted around to throw a back hook kick at me. I
ducked and tried to sweep him off his left foot, which was his center of
gravity. As he twirled, he pulled his left foot from the ground and my
foot through the space where Q-Ball's had been resting a split second
before.
As Q-Ball landed, chunks of concrete started to fly around me. The M.P.s had started firing and the air was filled with metal and black solidified tar.
I whirled around as I got up and threw a left hook, which met a downward block. I stuck out my right arm and grabbed his right arm as it deflected my punch. I used my momentum to throw him off balance and threw a right roundhouse kick to his head, which he ducked under. I continued through my circle and faced away from Q-Ball.
As a bullet flew by my face, I noticed a rather large piece of concrete floating in front of me. I grabbed it from the air and used my circular movement to put some force behind it. I hucked it at Q-Ball's face, and a spare moment before it hit him in the head, he threw himself backwards into a flip.
The concrete sailed through the air and instead of hitting Q-Ball, slammed into the chest of an unlucky M.P., sending him twenty feet into the windshield of a car.
I kept spinning, and this time, kicked a large chunk of cement at towards Q-Ball. He stood his ground and caught it.
He looked at it in his palm, then crushed it with a fist.
I bared my eyes, then ran straight towards him, throwing my left fist into his face, but he brought his arm up and deflected it. Another fist, and this time he grabbed my arm and twisted. I went around and used his motion to pull him onto my shoulders, where I heaved him at a car.
He landed like a cat, in a crouched position, then projected himself at me like a missile. He swirled around into a heel kick. I stood my ground and caught his foot with both of my hands.
Right at that moment, the firing stopped and all was quite. Despite being in the air, Q-ball was still pressing against me.
We both strained, trying to win, and in this simulated world, it was a battle of the minds.
We stared into each other's eyes, focusing on each other's weaknesses. There was no way to exploit these weaknesses right now, but somehow just knowing them helped out, gave an advantage.
I stared at him, through him, focusing my mind, but broadening it at the same time. Everything came into focus, I could feel the M.P.s standing, stupefied, with their weapons at their sides. Why did they stop? They were programs, and their purpose was to kill.
I pushed it from my mind, as I focused again on the energy that hummed around me, creeping through every crevice, piece of clothing and car.
The foot, I must move the foot that was inches from my face. I could feel the fight between us, the connection.
Just move the foot..
"Harold, come look at this!" a voice from my left.
"What the hell?" I said in disbelief.
A woman, wearing faded blue jeans and a yellow polka dot halter top called to what seemed to be her husband. They were in their mid-50's to early 60's and sun-burned red.
Her husband rushed out of a doorway of what appeared to be a local pub with a camera dangling from around his neck.
"Well, ain't that the dangest," He said as Q-Ball fell to the ground, after losing concentration.
The couple was suddenly racked with convulsions as green code ran down their bodies. Soon, they were replaced with the black and white suited Agents.
"What the hell is going on?" Q-Ball stuttered.
"I don't know, but whatever it is, I suggest we run from it," I replied.
As Q-Ball landed, chunks of concrete started to fly around me. The M.P.s had started firing and the air was filled with metal and black solidified tar.
I whirled around as I got up and threw a left hook, which met a downward block. I stuck out my right arm and grabbed his right arm as it deflected my punch. I used my momentum to throw him off balance and threw a right roundhouse kick to his head, which he ducked under. I continued through my circle and faced away from Q-Ball.
As a bullet flew by my face, I noticed a rather large piece of concrete floating in front of me. I grabbed it from the air and used my circular movement to put some force behind it. I hucked it at Q-Ball's face, and a spare moment before it hit him in the head, he threw himself backwards into a flip.
The concrete sailed through the air and instead of hitting Q-Ball, slammed into the chest of an unlucky M.P., sending him twenty feet into the windshield of a car.
I kept spinning, and this time, kicked a large chunk of cement at towards Q-Ball. He stood his ground and caught it.
He looked at it in his palm, then crushed it with a fist.
I bared my eyes, then ran straight towards him, throwing my left fist into his face, but he brought his arm up and deflected it. Another fist, and this time he grabbed my arm and twisted. I went around and used his motion to pull him onto my shoulders, where I heaved him at a car.
He landed like a cat, in a crouched position, then projected himself at me like a missile. He swirled around into a heel kick. I stood my ground and caught his foot with both of my hands.
Right at that moment, the firing stopped and all was quite. Despite being in the air, Q-ball was still pressing against me.
We both strained, trying to win, and in this simulated world, it was a battle of the minds.
We stared into each other's eyes, focusing on each other's weaknesses. There was no way to exploit these weaknesses right now, but somehow just knowing them helped out, gave an advantage.
I stared at him, through him, focusing my mind, but broadening it at the same time. Everything came into focus, I could feel the M.P.s standing, stupefied, with their weapons at their sides. Why did they stop? They were programs, and their purpose was to kill.
I pushed it from my mind, as I focused again on the energy that hummed around me, creeping through every crevice, piece of clothing and car.
The foot, I must move the foot that was inches from my face. I could feel the fight between us, the connection.
Just move the foot..
"Harold, come look at this!" a voice from my left.
"What the hell?" I said in disbelief.
A woman, wearing faded blue jeans and a yellow polka dot halter top called to what seemed to be her husband. They were in their mid-50's to early 60's and sun-burned red.
Her husband rushed out of a doorway of what appeared to be a local pub with a camera dangling from around his neck.
"Well, ain't that the dangest," He said as Q-Ball fell to the ground, after losing concentration.
The couple was suddenly racked with convulsions as green code ran down their bodies. Soon, they were replaced with the black and white suited Agents.
"What the hell is going on?" Q-Ball stuttered.
"I don't know, but whatever it is, I suggest we run from it," I replied.