X-men: New Gods for Old
Chapter 2: The Vigilante
"Who is first on our list?" Moira asked.
"Jason Strum, a gravity manipulator, a self-style vigilante that goes by the name NightFlyer. Ridiculous, if you ask me."
"Where is he located?"
"His residence is just out side of Chicago."
Ever since the war, all children that were born mutant were registered in a global database. When the child's mutation would manifest itself, the government would see to it that they would receive the proper education and training in regards to their abilities.
"Well then, let us pack and be on our way."
Chicago, IL
11:14 pm.
The NightFlyer floated gently down to the roof of the building. His target was the condemned hotel across the street. The Hardballers, a local street gang, used it for manufacturing drugs, prostitution, and various black market activities. The police were mostly afraid to come to this part of town because of the previous violence against cops. It would take a lot of evidence to bring the big guns in. The big guns being, in this case, the Sentinels. Nowadays they were used against mutant and human criminals. Chicago P.D. only had four Sentinels, and with one in 'the shop' for maintenance, that left only three. But with the firepower some of these gangs can get a hold of, three might not be enough.
He ducked down further behind the lip of the roof as an air car passed over head and made a rough landing in front of the hotel. NightFlyer pulled out his small video recorder and zoomed in as close as he could get. As soon as he hit the 'record' button, the video stream was transmitted via satellite to his home computer, this way, if the recorder was damaged; he would still have a copy of the stream.
Two figures jumped out of the vehicle and quickly ran inside the hotel, taking the two guards with them. One of the figures, he recognized, Flare, Hardball's right hand man. He was a mutant that could throw explosive 'flares' of energy.
Something's going down, he thought. He popped the magazine of his stun-pistol and slammed it back in out of habit. He attached the silencer he had acquired on one of his earlier runs. Upon seeing the penthouse lights come on, he sprang from his feet and lifted into the night air. He soared above the streetlights and landed on the opposite roof near the skylight. Most of the Hardballers' aircars were parked up here. His pistol in one hand, and his recorder in the other, he peeked over the edge of the skylight and hit the 'record' button.
The gang's leader, Hardball himself was there, along with his lackeys. NightFlyer couldn't make out what they were saying, but they all looked excited, and worried. There were so many guns being distributed that NightFlyer felt sorry for who ever they were attacking. After about ten minutes, it became apparent that the Hardballers weren't going anywhere.
Hmm. Maybe they are anticipating an attack from another gang, he thought.
"Get lost, asshole?"
Shit. NightFlyer turned around slowly with his hands up. He was mentally raising his shield. The shield had taken him years to develop. It consisted of an inch thick layer of dense gravity that hugged his frame and propelled out from his body. Any bullets that hit the shield would bounce away at twice its speed.
"You got a lot o' nerve-" the gang banger stopped mid sentence and stared over NightFlyer's head.
He risked a glance over his shoulder and saw a small, arm length object about one hundred yards away backlit by a streak of fire, speeding toward the roof of the building.
NightFlyer flung his hand at the dumbstruck gang banger and a blast of gravity blew him off the building's edge as he dropped his recorder and dove into the skylight. He landed ten feet below on a large table filled with weapons and narcotics. Ten gun barrels and surprised expressions stared him in the face. Before anyone could say a word, the missile hit the roof, destroying any potential transportation and spewing flame down through the skylight. NightFlyer rolled off the table and came up shooting at anyone still standing. The door to the hallway flew open and a gun toting punk raised his weapon for a shot. NightFlyer dove out of the way and fired a blue-white bolt of ionized plasma into the man's chest. He slumped to the ground, out cold.
"Tech-heads!" someone shouted from down the hall.
He heard gunfire from the lower floors. He needed to get the hell out, now. He made his way down the hall going from room to room, looking for a quick and quiet way out. He entered a decrepit bedroom just as a Tech-head wearing a flight pack burst through the window. As the freak lunged at him, he noticed the man had a large jagged blade where his left hand once was. NightFlyer rolled back with the lunge and flipped him up with his legs while simultaneously slapping the ignition on his flight pack, sending the Tech-head soaring into and through the wall opposite the doorway.
Damn Techies, he thought. The Tech-heads were a rival gang of the Hardballers. They had the technology to rule the whole city, but luckily, their bionic implants had driven most of them insane. He peeked out the broken window to see a Sentinel, flanked by many police aircars, begin to open fire on Hardballer and Tech-head alike.
"Surrender, humans," the Sentinel droned as it fired a capture net into the small crowd.
NightFlyer ran out into the hallway and saw that it ended in a dead end about fifty feet in the opposite direction of the shooting. Good enough for me, he thought as he ran a few steps and flew down the hallway. He threw up his shield at the last second and burst through the wall and into the night sky.
He flew low for about a mile and stopped on an unfamiliar rooftop to rest. He could still hear the gunfire and sirens as he pulled off his cheap mask and gloves. I'll have to send the video footage to officer Smitts in the morning. After a few minutes he stood up and looked around, trying to get his bearings. He had no idea where he was. "Man, I have got to find a way to navigate."
"I think we could help you with that." A voice said from behind him.
He whipped around, drawing his stun-pistol and pointing it at theā¦old woman and her monkey? He straightened his stance, "Who the hell are you?"
"Your weapon isn't necessary, we mean you no harm." The woman calmly said.
"Answer my question first."
The woman sighed, "Very well, my name is Moira Xavier."
Xavier... NightFlyer holstered his weapon, "What's with the monkey?"
The 'monkey' stepped further into the light and NightFlyer saw that it wasn't a monkey at all. It was a small man with a monkey's feet and tail.
"This is my son, Brian."
"Oh, sorry," he sat back down on the ground. "So what do you want?"
"I assume you've read about the X-men when you were in high school?"
"Yeah of course," he replied, a little more excited, "But they were all killed during the war."
"Yes they were, but there is a new crisis brewing, and I am assembling a new team."
NightFlyer raised his head up from between his knees, "What do you want from me?"
"I want you to lead it"
He shot to his feet, "When do I start?"
