Wings of Destruction
Chapter 3
Three Times the Lightening

-

Justin shut the blinds of his studio apartment and walked away from the magnificent view of the Okaly City Skyline. He's come to the colony in search of a better paying job and a new life aside from the run down grunge he grew up within, but aside from his petty programming job he's got nothing to show for.

His short brown hair and blue eyes had helped him get aboard the shuttle leaving Earth in the first place, the rest of his charm he worked himself. The girl who had let him on for free was expecting him to call by the end of the week; that was three weeks ago and he hasn't made the effort to go out and buy a telephone.

His apartment was modern, made up of metallic tables and lamps, a retro furniture set, and bland pictures; it was a taste he had always enjoyed but never had the ability to own until he left home. His kitchen was stainless steel and very up-to-date. His living room, filled with only blues, reds, and silvers, was very basic, decorated in a retro feel. There were metallic book cases along the wall which held his huge plasma, flat screen television; each self had a set of books all lined perfectly along the shelves. His living room, technically a bed in the far corner of the lofty house, was set on a metallic base with a very big, comfortable cushion as the mattress. The bathroom, stainless steel just like the kitchen, was very high-tech and built-into the wall.

Justin sat back down on his silver computer chair and returned to his computer. The monitor was flashing photos in a decorative manner and suddenly another command screen came up with binary scripting. He growled in frustration as he tried, once again, to hack into the files of the colony's government. Finally, he cracked the code and welcomed himself into the new area by sighing heavily; it took a good three hours to get into just this one file—of course there had to be some sort of important document hidden inside of it.

That's precisely what he thought until he came across a file entitled 'M.K.'. Opening it, he found he only stumbled across secret documents of the Mareimaia Wars in the long ago past and immediately closed out of all the folders. He just spent three hours hacking into a folder that was last modified over ten years ago; he needed a new hobby.

-

Doctor Vix ran into an alley and hid behind one of the dumpsters. He crouched down, despite the awful smell lingering in the air, and watched as the shadows of the two who followed him ran off. When they were gone, he slowly crept out of the alley and took note of his surroundings. X-18999 proved to be very friendly of a place—especially if you have a history of an Angel of Death.

"Stupid fools," Vix mumbled to himself as he wandered down the sidewalk, stuffing his fists into the pockets of his blue denim jeans.

His black shirt had a logo on the cover of the anarchy sign, his blue jeans had rips in the knees, and his biker books had the same anarchy imprint painted on the heels. Dressing in to fit with his surroundings was a key he had to take note of when he was found out by a nurse at the Italian hospital he once worked in. That woman got what she deserved; he followed her to her house and did to her what he did to the previous nurses and patients, torture them in which ever way pleases him the most then slaughter them—only for his patients he had to be a bit cleaner so he wouldn't get caught.

Only when he came into the hospital the very next morning, he had found out that she had opened her mouth before he managed to get to her and the police were up there waiting for him—it was even more of a problem when they found she never came in that day and she was dead at her house in some weird, twisted, position. Thanks to the media, he had to stay hidden until his short black hair grew out and his skin got extremely pale from lack of sunlight. When he was ready to move away, he died his hair a dark blue and blended in with the rest of the modern punks of the youth; he already had the light blue eyes and as he passed by the police and fellow workers who knew so much about him, he was relieved when they didn't even glance in his direction.

Unfortunately, these two goons who had chased him just now were honor students of a very high rating school and were carefully studying in the art of crime for they could see right through his disguise and into that Angel of Death face he once harbored so dearly; either that, they were utterly sick in wanting to learn more about serial killers.

"You would think, student or fascination, that they would know enough to stay away from one who so clearly describes the name," the words were rushed through his lips as he hung his head and walked quickly through a crowd of young punks. The colony was about ten-or-so years old and already it had gone to the dogs—but these were rich dogs. Normal Earth punks couldn't afford a trip to the colony—let alone move—and technically, they couldn't even afford another joint from a near-by neighbor—which was cheaper than a shuttle ticket. Either these kids were raised here with rich parents who didn't give a flip about them, or they were dealing with some expensive drugs back on Earth.

Vix rushed himself into a chair of a near-by bakery with seating outside on the front patio. When he sat, he took a load off his chest and expressed his need for fresh air through a loud sigh. All around him, there were either punks who could be mistaken for rejects from Hell and posh people; the two groups usually stayed away from each other—a wise decision considering there would be a massive brawl between the death-warriors—the punks—and the slaves—the police hired by the rich kids.

To his right sat a couple who were chanting away about their oncoming future plans and a baby she was soon to have. Vix grinned to himself when he remembered the young brunet who was pregnant with four weeks left and utterly gorgeous for her youthful age. She was only twelve and she ran away from her parents to live with a boyfriend—who later left her for another woman—and now was unsure about what to do with her baby and her living habits. He closed his eyes remembering when he had her stay late—actually he said he was going to draw blood, which was required for pregnancy anyways, and he wanted to get his other patients out of the way first—and torture her endlessly with his sadistic and perverted ways; he had her screaming for more lust before he finally told her no more and plunged a needle into her womb. To get away with what was going on, he carefully placed her body in the morgue—located in the lowest basement of that hospital—and cleaned up the mess. The security guards didn't even bother to ask him about what he was doing because they knew him to stay late anyways; only this time it wasn't paperwork that had him tied up.

He opened his eyes and glanced to his left, where a businessman in an elegant pressed suit was typing away on his laptop while a cell phone was pressed up against his shoulder and head. He was chanting away over and over again as if the 'end of days' was tomorrow. Vix narrowed his eyes as he realized, through all the dainty smiles the man had while he spoke, he was talking to a woman.

"Yeah, yeah, well, what about tomorrow at nine?" The man had no clue who was watching him and his high-pitched voice was marking him as the next prime target for the gang located across the street—in a distance enough to hear what was being said.

Vix glanced to the guy sitting at the table behind the businessman to a kid who looked no older than seventeen. He, too, was typing away on a laptop only his fingers were moving extremely fast! Vix narrowed his eyes and glanced at the boy's features. He was dressed properly—compared to most of the youth these days—in a nice pair of tan slacks, white t-shirt with a blue plaid shirt button up over it. Below the table, Vix noticed he was wearing black Converse sneakers, and then felt a chuckle reach his throat. He returned to the boy's face and noticed the kid didn't even flinch during his computing. The brown hair didn't waver, his blue eyes didn't blink; the kid was like a machine!

"What in the hell?!" The businessman shouted out. "My computer, it just crashed! What, no! Wait, don't hang up—damn it!" The man slammed the phone down on the table besides his laptop and began typing away at the machine endlessly.

Vix sat there in amazement as the man kept trying to turn the machine around in his hands and check to see if something had loosened or if something had hit it. The boy behind him shut his laptop, stood up, and left without a second to waste. Vix sat there, blinking, and knew immediately what had happened.

That kid just hacked his machine, Vix thought to himself with a grin coming to his face. He did it in no time flat and erased all the information in that other laptop within the flick of a second.

Vix shot to his feet and walked away from the patio, passing the panicking guy on the way and hearing a 'what am I going to do now?' as he left the crowd. He followed behind the boy and tried to get closer without making a sound. The kid must have excellent talent for doing a thing like that!

"Kid!" Vix shouted out but the boy kept walking. "You there, in the blue plaid top!"

The boy froze in spot and slowly turned around to view the man behind him. It looked as if he had released his inhaled breath in a sudden rush and expressed his hatred towards the modern youth; of course, Vix was dressed in the anarchy punk clothing so no doubt he looked rugged.

"What?" Came the boy's sullen reply.

Vix slowed down as he neared the boy and smirked. He could still hear the man ranting in the background about his crashed laptop and his angry woman. Vix raised his hand into the air and pointed backwards with his thumb.

"Did you," Vix paused to let a chuckle escape his lips, "did you do that?"

"Why?" The boy replied sullenly again.

"Because if you did, I'm very amazed at you."

The boy stood still and expressionless. He replied, sullenly again, "okay," before shrugging it off. "It was nothing."

"Nothing!" Vix's eyes enlarged. "My dear boy, if half the youth could do that these days it'll be nothing!"

The boy narrowed his eyes and took a step backwards. "What do you want?" His voice got urgent, as if he were ready to make a run for it. Vix held up his hands and lowered his head.

"To offer you a job," he exhaled, "that's all."

"As?" The boy's eyes narrowed as he took another step backwards. He gripped the laptop tightly, which was kept between his arm and body as if it were a book.

"I am Doctor Vix; I'm in the search of a fighter for a Gundam and I believe I have just found the perfect choice," Grinned Vix.

The boy blinked and mumbled, "why me?"

"Well," Vix paused, "you just proved yourself tremendous, that's a start!" He looked to his left where a few little kids were chasing a ball down the opposite sidewalk. He added in, "and I can teach you anything else you need to know," as a murmur.

"Hacking is just a hobby… I take no jobs for it," the boy finished off and turned around, but Vix was quicker and jumped in front of him before he could take another step.

"Wha-wait, wait, wait!" Vix held his hands up in the air. "Give it a thought, I mean, think about it!"

"With what?" The boy wasn't making this any harder for him and what made it worse, is how his voice never quavered from the same monotone and his face never went to another expression aside from sullen.

"Well, if you get in the news you'll become quite popular with the ladies," grinned Vix. Seeing this still didn't falter with the boy's mind, he quickly added in, "and the pay will be outrageous!"

The boy actually blinked at this and looked down. Vix lowered his arms and rested them besides his body. He smiled.

"Think about it, besides a small team of comrades, all you will have to do is just follow assignments I send for you to do, then you get a heavy check in the mail," Vix grinned, "sound fair enough?"

The boy looked back up at him, an evil smirk on his face. "Don't forget to add in a possibility of being captured and killed and unwanted by my home."
"Ah-well…" Vix trailed off and looked away, "that too."

"I only came here to get away from the grunge I was raised in and to start over."

"But," Vix looked up at him; the kid was well over three inches taller. "With this option, you can change your name—or keep it, up to you really—and really start over! Ah-um, new friends, new job, new life!" The smile on Vix's face was immature, but the kid could see from it just how badly he was needed.

"Why me?" He boy had asked with a shrug. "There are hundreds of other people out there far better than me."

"Yeah-but you are unknown, as you just said," Vix winked.

The boy looked off in thought, and then with a shrug, he replied with, "Fine." He faced Vix.

"Excellent!" Vix almost jumped in joy but his hands did clasp together. "Erm… what was your name again?"

"Justin Stevens."

"Great!" Vix smiled big and craned his neck to all directions before leaning over and whispering something to Justin in a soft, serious, voice.

"We are currently building you a Gundam; you will need to be well prepared to use it, but I will see to that, alright?" Justin nodded. "Fantastic."

Vix held out his right hand, "It's settled then?"

Nodding, Justin took it and shook to lock their agreement. Vix blinked down at the boy's inner right wrist and turned it upwards so he could see the image.

"What…?" He began but didn't finish. He stood there in question; why would somebody get a tattoo on their wrist?

"I told you, I grew up in the grunge; I was once like them," Justin stated as he watched a group of punks walking by. "When I was fifteen, I thought it would be cool to live on the streets, but when I turned seventeen, I found it was getting me in trouble with the law."

"And?" Vix released Justin's hand and rested his fists on his hips.

"And I hacked into the systems, erased my files, transferred money over to my account from all others, and fled here. I used a girl to get on a shuttle without ordering a ticket—since they check for ID's—and I've lived here ever since."

Vix was grinning and when Justin returned to look at him, found it rather odd.

"So you have no file to your name?" Justin shook his head. "Perfect; you're already set to go then."

Justin nodded. "Alright."

"One quick question, if you may?" Vix blinked and picked up Justin's wrist once again.

"What?" Justin looked down at his arm.

"Why Zeus?"

"The God of Lightening?" He asked; Vix nodded and released his wrist, though Justin held it up to inspect while he replied. "He's the most powerful leader of the Greek Gods and rules over them without a problem."

"Were you the leader of your street gang?" Vix asked, already knowing the answer. When Justin lowered his wrist and didn't reply, he already knew it was true.

"Head back to your place and pack," Vix commanded. "When you're reader, head to the Eastern Territory of Earth and find the 'A-A Hangar' in downtown Brandy."

"That's the town closest to Winner, right?" Justin asked.

"Yes," nodded Vix. "The dead town is only a three hour drive from it, but I advise you not to drive through it to get to Brandy… if you've been there in that past four months, you'd know just how horrible that place wreaks of history."