A/N: Hey, good to hear no one was thrown off too badly by the time jump. Thanks to all those who reviewed. I would like to mention something about reviews though. I happen to know that there are some of you reading but not reviewing. My question is, "why not?!" C'mon, if you like this story then please review. It makes me work so much harder if I know someone will appreciate it. So what's holding you back? Reviews are your chance to actively improve this story and ensure your own enjoyment of it in the future. It'll be fun, I promise. lol. Okay, now that I've got that off my chest, enjoy the new chapter!
From his window, Scott watched the sun set over the Arkansas horizon. His second night in Memphis was just starting and he intended to make good use of it. He would begin making some test runs tonight to get a feel for how the city worked after dark. He had already mapped tonight's route. The plan was to stay downtown, basically weaving through the streets and trying to memorize the grid. He would spend about ten minutes in each park and eventually end the night around 2 am on Beale Street.
At 7:30, Scott slipped into some dark clothes and left his apartment. He strolled out of the building and began walking down the street as if he was a normal citizen, which he technically was at this point. He only had to walk a few blocks north before he reached Poplar, one of Memphis' main roads. He turned left and followed Poplar to Union Street, which followed the Mississippi River. Scott turned north again and made his way up Union.
As he went, he paid careful attention to everything around him. He was going to have to know these streets like the back of his hand in order to pull this off. There were enough alleys criss-crossing downtown to make a person dizzy. Simply put, learning the city wasn't going to be easy. Memphis wasn't really designed well for pedestrians. It was a southern city, which meant everyone was expected to drive when they needed to go somewhere. There was no decent public transportation. A trolley system lined the river and the city had established a small bus system about thirty years before, but there was no subway at all.
Scott found himself now in Jefferson Davis Park. It was a small patch of grass overlooking the river that the city had established at some point in honor of the Confederate President. Why the man deserved to be honored was anyone's guess, but the park honored him nonetheless. Scott followed the stone wall on the side of the park and stopped at one of the model cannons pointed towards the water. He turned around and sat on the wall to look back at the city. He was just off of Riverside Drive now, which was named for obvious reasons. To his left lay the Pyramid and the Memphis Bridge; to his right, the restaurants and clubs of downtown Memphis. Scott stood up, turned right, and began walking again.
It wasn't long before he passed his new workplace, the Shelby County Courthouse. It was located on Union Street and faced the inner part of Memphis. It was a large stone building and actually quite impressive to look at. Scott stopped and stood on the steps leading up to the main entrance. This was the spot where a young assistant to District Attorney Robert Wicks had been murdered just one day earlier. Scott looked up at the surrounding buildings as he stood on the very place where the man had fallen. The police said he had been killed by a sniper, probably hidden in one of the many office buildings in the area. Scott clenched his fists. Whoever was behind these attacks would pay. He would personally see to it.
Eventually, Scott left the murder scene and walked on away from the river, back into the city. He now found himself surrounded by hotels, restaurants, and AutoZone Park, a minor league baseball stadium. Horse-drawn carriages were parked on the sidewalks waiting for happy couples who wanted a romantic ride through the city. The businesses were booming and music could be heard coming from a local bar. One of the hotels in the area was the Peabody, an upscale expensive place filled with lavish decorations and bellboys in tuxedos. What the Peabody was most known for, though, was its ducks. The Peabody ducks lived in a fancy pen on the roof of the hotel. Each afternoon, a hotel employee would lead the ducks into the lobby where they played in a large fountain for a while and all the guests scrambled to take pictures. It was a dumb tradition, but it had made the hotel famous so who could complain?
After a few hours in the midst of the crowds, Scott gladly slipped away from the main roads and all their gilded entertainment. He entered a long alley and could immediately tell he had left the beaten tourist path. Gone were the horse-drawn carriages and live music, replaced by homeless men and dark corners. Scott lifted his head high as he walked through the alleys as if he owned them. This was the part of Memphis he needed to know most. This was where he would be spending his time. Somehow, Scott felt more comfortable here than in the midst of the bright lights just a few blocks over. The alley was dark, cold, and grimy, but Scott felt right at home. The homeless men around him pulled their coats over their faces as they tried to find sleep. Most of them had been lucky enough to find warm clothes when the winter came. It was a good thing too since it was currently a crisp 36 degrees Fahrenheit and the wind was picking up.
Scott felt as though these freezing men around him were kindred spirits of his. He felt a connection between they and himself that he just didn't feel with most other people. They were social outcasts, thrown away by society for not being good enough. They spent their days begging and their nights lying in the dark shivering from the cold. If they tried to go near the bright lights of the nightclubs and hotels, they would only be chased off. Each one of them had learned this lesson the hard way. Each one had literally been abused simply for being the person they were. But even that abuse was favorable to what they normally received. Ordinarily they were merely ignored. Each day as they sat in their corners and begged, the men in the fancy suits would turn their eyes the other way, refusing to so much as acknowledge them as a person! Over time, they simply resigned themselves to the fact that they were alone in the world. And each night they returned to the same place where they would lay down and try to force themselves to sleep so they could wake up the next morning and ask the same men wearing the same suits to acknowledge them. It wasn't really money they were asking for. It was acceptance. Money was always appreciated when it was given of course, but a simple smile and a nod of the head could make their day because, for that one second, they were a person and someone else recognized it. And as they would lie down and go to sleep that night, they would be a little warmer thanks to the memory of that smile.
Scott thought about all this as he walked by them. He had much more in common with them than even they could know. Like them, Scott had been forced from the bright lights of life. He lived an existence now that included no friends or family to brighten his day or warm his spirits and, like them, he had accepted this as his lot in life years ago. Also like them, he often found himself struggling for acceptance. He had managed to find it a few times and always cherished it when it came, but it was always fleeting. A friendship here; a light relationship there. It never lasted but a second, but the memories were all he had to warm his soul when things grew cold. Somehow he had managed to maneuver alone through life's dark alleys for eight years, but it had never once been easy.
Scott continued walking through the streets of Memphis with only his thoughts to keep him company. Eventually he decided to call it a night and go home. He glanced around at the men in the alley one last time as he left. His heart went out to them as he realized that there was one stark difference between he and them. He was about to go to sleep in a warm bed inside a tall apartment building.
==========
Scott made the same excursion through the streets of Memphis every night for the next three weeks. It wasn't long before he knew how to get anywhere he wanted to go in downtown Memphis. He had everything memorized so well that he felt he could identify nearly any building in the downtown district just by looking at any one of its walls. He was almost ready to start what he had come for. Scott stood in his apartment and looked out on the city through his window as he found himself doing so often. His eyes drifted through the open door to his bedroom where a small locked suitcase lay on the bed. He looked back to the city again.
It was time. Tonight would see the birth of a new hero.
Scott moved into his bedroom quickly, as if running to that which would save his life. He shut the door behind him and locked it. No one was going to come in his apartment, much less his bedroom, but Scott wasn't taking any chances. For the first time since he had packed the bag months before, Scott unlocked the suitcase and folded it open.
Inside was a flexible black fabric. As Scott lifted it into the air, it became clear that the fabric was, in fact, more of a costume. Scott undressed and put the costume on for the first time since arriving in Memphis, careful to get everything just right. It was actually quite similar to what he had worn as an X-Man. In fact, it had been loosely modeled on Cyclops' uniform when Scott designed it. But this suit was different from its predecessor. For one thing, it was all black instead of bright blue. It covered his whole body except his head, hands, and feet and fit tight enough that his muscles were clearly visible through the material. Over his hands were a pair of black gloves that, once he put them on, blended in seamlessly with the rest of the costume. On his feet he wore tight boots with four buckles on the sides. Unlike the gloves, they were obviously distinct from the rest of the costume, but they were far from bulky.
Scattered around Scott's body were three gold belts. Around his waist was a gold-plated belt made of a soft metal alloy. It would flex as needed with Scott's body, but wouldn't break unless put under incredible pressure. Around his right thigh was a dark rubber belt that fit tight to his muscles. The final belt, like the one around his waist, was gold-plated and flexible. It extended from his waist-belt over his left shoulder and ran at a slant across his abdomen. This belt included an emblem about the size of a fist on the upper left side of Scott's chest. It was a crimson circle with a black dot in the center of it. Four black lines extended from the top, bottom, and sides of the dot, forming what looked a bit like a target. Beneath this emblem, connected to Scott's bodysuit, was a large patch of Kevlar armor. There were other patches of armor scattered around Scott's body to protect vital areas, but the armor was kept to a minimum in favor of maneuverability.
Covering Scott's eyes was a thin black visor with a fine red stripe in the center. It was much smaller than the one he had used so many years before, but he liked this one much better. Like his X-Men visor, it featured a device on Scott's temples that allowed him to activate the visor and allow his mutant beam to fire through. The farther he turned the small device, the more powerful the beam became. However, Scott had made one improvement on his original headgear. Located in a compartment in the belt on Scott's right leg was a small remote with one red button on it. When activated, this remote sent a radio signal to the visor that unleashed his beam at full blast. Scott had designed this as a just-in-case precaution. Finally, Scott wrapped a black bandana-type piece around his head. It was made from the same material as the bodysuit, but it fit snugly around his skull. There was a false knot in the back, but it was designed so that it didn't tie like a true bandana. From the knot, two pieces of fabric, each about a foot long, hung loose about halfway down his back.
Once he was completely suited up, Scott stepped out of his bedroom and walked to the large window in the living area. He slid it open, climbed onto the ledge outside, and shut the window behind him. Then he took a deep breath and jumped across the narrow road, landing on the roof of the building across the street in a crouching position to cushion the impact. He stood up and looked out on the city one last time.
Oculus had finally arrived.