Chapter 38: Eye of the Storm pt. I
"Glory to the Dark-" the cultist's head exploded in a shower of bone and brain matter, and Krieg calmly ejected the spent cartridge of his shotgun as another screaming cultist came at him. Her stomach was blown wide open by his second shot, and then his third shot blew another cultist's knee to pieces. Krieg did not even bother wasting more ammunition at that point as he walked over to the screaming cultist and brought his boot down on the craven's throat. There was a satisfying crunch, and then Krieg left him to choke on his own blood as he moved on.
No further cultists could be found on this street, only their broken corpses scattered all over the place. Yet despite having meted out true justice to even more traitors, Krieg only felt a hollowness within himself. How many had he killed by now? Too many to properly count. And yet despite all of that, despite all but literally bathing these streets in the blood of traitors and degenerates, how many more still roamed across the planet?
As he walked down the street, illuminated only by the pale moon in the sky and the flickering flames of burning cars and buildings, he felt helpless. No matter how many he killed, no matter how many streets he cleared, there were always more to fill the ranks. But he pushed those feelings aside, steeled his wavering soul with the unshakable conviction of the Imperium. A thousand more or a million more, it made no difference to him. He would kill them all. For the Imperium and in His name.
"Someone get something heavy over here! I'm getting tired of waiting, and I don't want to waste bullets on a fucking door of all things!" someone was hollering further down the road, and Krieg was instantly advancing with shotgun raised. He found five cultists gathered before a locked door, the area around strewn with the corpses of unarmed civilians, valiant police officers and degenerate cultists. Seemed like quite the skirmish had taken place here.
"Oi, think this will do the trick?" a sixth cultist merrily called out as he dragged some heavy debris out of a nearby alley. That merriment left his face the instant he spotted Krieg, courtesy of the shotgun slug that obliterated said face and blew apart the back of his head. Five startled pair of eyes swung Krieg's way at the gunshot, a number quickly reduced to four thanks to a second shot before the rest scrambled for cover.
"You picked the-" the apparent leader began as he leaned out of cover with an Uzi in hand, only to find Krieg having closed the distance and now wielding a knife in each hand. First went through his armed hand and nailed it to his cover before the second went right into his screaming mouth.
"Bastard!" the next cultist screamed in rage, coming in swinging with a crowbar while Krieg reached for something on his back. Krieg dodged under the clumsy swing and came back up with a fire axe in hand to send her head flying.
"Fuck this shit!" another cultist screamed as he made a run for it. He soon fell over with Krieg's thrown axe splitting his skull in two. Last one screamed in absolute terror as she sprayed wildly around herself with her machine gun. Krieg quickly had his grapple gun in hand and fired, its claw latching onto the cultist's throat before a vicious tug ripped the throat wide open. With the only sounds being the cultist's last gurgling breaths, Krieg approached the door they had previously gathered around.
"Open up," he commanded. No answer came, but he could definitively hear movement inside. With a growl of irritation, Krieg brought the shotgun up and blasted away the lock, accompanied by terrified screams from the inside. When the door would still not budge, he blasted off the hinges. When that too proved fruitless, Krieg simply emptied an entire load of shots right into the door, then smashed his arm through the battered material. A few extra punches and tackles ripped a hole big enough for him to lean in, finding the door barred from the inside with various furniture and nailed in place with extra planks.
"Annoying," he grumbled as he began clearing it all away. Finally, the barricade was removed and the broken remnants of the door simply fell in on itself. Stomping through the hallway while reloading, Krieg could hear crying up ahead, so he readied himself and stepped inside where the noise came from. He instantly felt bile gathering in his throat.
"Pathetic," was all he could say, lowering his gun at the sight of the useless civilians huddled together like frightened animals in a corner. Mostly youngsters around his age or lower, with a handful of adults. One of them, a male, was lying almost like a blanket over the youngest, trying to shield them from him. Commendable, if nothing else, even if it would have amounted to nothing if he had harbored lethal intent for these people.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded of the group, who still looked upon him in fear.
"Hiding," someone answered, though Krieg was not able to tell who.
"I can see that," he replied snidely. "Why are you lot hiding here like useless cowards instead of helping defend your city?"
"Against those hordes of maniacs? Are you out of your mind?! We would be slaughtered!" the man shielding the children suddenly spoke up, but wilted the instant Krieg's glare swung his way.
"So you would rather sit here and wait to be slaughtered like cattle?" he spat at the coward, his finger twitching on the trigger.
"The Justice League will come and save us," the man answered, and something snapped within Krieg. Before he even knew what he was doing, he had crossed the room, grabbed the man by his shirt, and roughly dragged him back out. People behind him were screaming, but he cared not. The man in his grip was shouting, but he cared not. Krieg hauled him out of the building and hurled him to the ground.
"Look around you, look at the corpses around you!" he roared at the trembling man. And when the man did nothing but stare back at him in terror, Krieg grabbed his head and forced him to stare at the bodies around them.
"You see them, how they lie broken and bleeding around us? Do you know why they are here? Because the Justice League did not save them, and neither did you!" he roared at him, half-tempted to just wrench the coward's neck.
"W-what?" was all he got in response. A growl more akin to an animal than a human slipped out of Krieg's throat.
"The League is barely 20 members, and you expect them to be able to always save you? The whole world is under attack, and you think they'll even notice your pathetic mewling for help?" Krieg did not even wait for an answer as he dragged the man across the pavement and shoved his face straight into the face of a civilian corpse.
"Look at this one! No weapon in hand, dead with bullets in her back. She did not die fighting to protect herself, she died running in fear. She too probably thought the League would save her. Well, they didn't, and she paid the price for it," now the man was hoisted back on his feet, his terrified visage hauled to just a few inches from Krieg's mask.
"And you chose to cower in the dark like a cockroach, letting your fellow citizens get butchered just so you can live for a few extra precious seconds! You want to live? Then you should have stood and fought together!" by now, the man's face was almost as white as the skull painted on Krieg's mask.
"What could I have done against these lunatics? I'm just a regular guy!" the man tried to defend himself, and Krieg roughly pushed him back before reaching for his mask. With more force than was necessary, he wrenched it off to expose his furiously snarling face to the very much startled man.
"So am I," he all but spat out in contempt before donning his mask again and stomping away. People had come out of their shelter now, looking on in fear, but Krieg no longer cared about them. Useless, weak, cowardly creatures, the lot of them. Dragging humanity down with them with her selfish acts. A noise then drew his attention to a wrecked police car. Sounded like the radio was still functioning. Lacking any other objective, Krieg walked over, threw out the corpse in the driver's seat and began fiddling with the radio.
"All units, this is Commissioner Steele. Be advised that large number of hostile forces have been spotted amassing along the Hollywood Boulevard. Current numbers are unknown, but any nearby units are advised to fall back immediately. Police forces have established a safe zone around Los Angeles Police Department Headquarters between 5th Street and Santa Ana Freeway, all available units are to begin an immediate withdrawal to this area if able. If unable, report in your position and await reinforcements," as Krieg listened to this report, and many others over the radio, it suddenly felt as if his eyes had been opened. Something which should have been so obvious from the start had finally dawned to him.
"I've spent so long debasing myself before the League and the Team, I'd forgotten myself," he murmured to himself, very much tempted to punch himself for such willful idiocy. But there was no time for that, no time to reprimand himself. There was work to be done, so much work. Krieg was quickly back out on the street and stomping his way back towards the civilians, now gathered around the man he had reprimanded earlier. At his approach, they parted before him like living curtain, leaving the man to face him down again. By the way his features paled, it was not something he very much desired.
"W-what do y-you want n-now?" he asked, but Krieg did not immediately answer. Instead, he shoved his shotgun into the now very much startled man's arms.
"If you want to live, follow me and do exactly as I say," Krieg interrupted him.
"But-" and then Krieg's fist was gripping the front of his shirt and ramming him up against a wrecked truck.
"I do not care for excuses or protests, soldier. Obey my commands, or stay here and die like the vermin you are," he stated before releasing the man. Though still trembling like a leaf caught in the wind, he stood firm and held on to the gun, to which Krieg gave a miniscule nod of satisfaction before turning his attention to the group still huddled around them.
"The rest of you, gather up whatever weapons you can find, then follow me," he commanded. At first, none moved, and simply stared at him in open confusion, an act which brought his irritation back in force.
"What are we supposed to do with them?" one of the teenagers spoke up, but instantly quieted down the second Krieg's gaze swung her way.
"To take back this city," he simply answered. I spent so long running with so-called 'heroes', spent so long doing things on my own, that I had forgotten the core tenet of the Imperial Guard. Wars are not won by a single human, but by armies standing shoulder to shoulder against the enemy. Alone, I can do little. With an army? I can turn this around, I can push Chaos back. For the Emperor.
Even locked up in his cell with even tighter security than in the past, Icicle Sr. could still tell that something major was going on in the outside world. The guards did not say a word, but he could tell from their postures and nervous whispers. Something had them spooked real bad, and it was not the inmates. Plus, he could have sworn he heard gunshots not that long ago.
What was going on? Had the Light decided to make their big move? Unlikely, he would have heard something by now if that was the case. He held no delusions about his standing within the Light or his importance to the overall cause, but he had wagered that his influence among the prisoner population would have made him privy to at least the vague outlines of future operations. But then, if it was not the Light, who was it? Aliens? Could be, bastards sure loved to come and mess with Earth from time to time for reasons that always eluded him.
"Alright, bastard, on your feet. The Warden wants to meet you," a guard announced as he and his buddies formed up outside his cell, batons at the ready in case he got any funny ideas. Icicle Sr. just grunted at them as he stood up and dutifully marched over to the cell door. Once the cuffs were in place, he was led away. As they walked through the cell blocks, Icicle Sr. discreetly observed his surroundings. It was with some trepidation that he noted the large number of guards on duty, along with some of the biggest and heaviest guns stored for any potential super powered breakout. He sure hoped Strange had some answers for this.
"Alright, in ya go," lo and behold, they had just arrived at the Warden's office, and the guards made no attempt to follow him inside. Either they were very dutiful little pawns, or they were in on the charade. Not that it mattered to Icicle Sr. as he stepped inside.
"Glad you could make it, old friend," Hugo Strange greeted him from behind his desk, scrunched up papers scattered all over the place and dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. Looked like it had been one hell of a day for him./
"So what's going on?" Icicle Sr. asked. Strange gave a tired sigh as he removed his glasses.
"Wish I knew that myself. I've lost contact with the Light, some of my own men tried to stage a coup a few hours ago, and what little I've been able to piece together from the chaotic mess that global communication has become points to a violent uprising taking place across the entire world," Strange answered while rubbing his eyes.
"So it's not the Light's doing?" Icicle Sr. questioned with a troubled frown on his face.
"I can assure you, this has absolutely nothing to do with the Light," Strange stated. Hardly comforting news to Icicle, but it would have to do for now.
"So what's the plan then?"
"Simple, we barricade ourselves here and weather the storm. Belle Reve is just as much a fortress as a prison, we could hold out in her for months if need be. Which brings me to why I called you here," here, Strange folded his hands together as he stared at Icicle. "I need you to convince the other inmates to cooperate with us and help defend Belle Reve,"
Icicle could not quite contain a wince at those words. "A tall order. Most of those guys would be quite happy to stab you all, and each other, in the back if it meant getting a ticket to freedom,"
"Which is why I'm counting on you to explain things in a way that they can understand. Either they help us, or they die, simple as that," Strange's ultimatum left little room to argue, so Icicle just shrugged his shoulders.
"Fine, I'll see what I can do about that. But don't come whining to me if this doesn't end up working in our favor," Icicle warned, but Strange just waved a dismissive hand at him.
"You worry about getting the inmates in line, I'll worry about any potential backlash,"
The mood was somber aboard the bioship as the team huddled together, wordlessly passing around first-aid kits as they tended to their multitude of wounds. Most were superficial flesh wounds, only in need of some bandages, but others were not so light.
"Hold still now," Artemis instructed, needle and thread in hand as she carefully began stitching up a nasty lash wound across Robin's back, who for his part only gritted his teeth as the needle pierced skin but otherwise remained as still as a rock.
"You sure you know what you're doing?" Kid Flash asked, hanging over the duo in worry.
"I'm sure, now sit your ass down before you hurt your head even further," Artemis reprimanded without looking up from her work.
"What, this? Nothing more than a flesh wound," Kid Flash countered with a cocky grin as he lightly smacked his bandaged head, only to end up scrunching his face up in pain from that action. "Ow,"
"Yeah, you deserved that, you big blockhead," Artemis' comment brought a few small chuckles to the group, and a little fond smile to her lips that she was very careful to hide from sight./
"Where did you learn to stitch wounds like that anyway?" Miss Martian suddenly asked from her seat at the controls, and Artemis could not stop herself from stiffening up at the comment.
"Personal experience," she reluctantly, and vaguely, admitted. It brought the somber mood back in full force as the implications sunk in.
"Will admit, never took you for a seamstress, Artemis," Robin suddenly said, and got a slap to the back of the head.
"Don't push your luck, bird boy," Artemis jokingly warned. It served to lift their moods again, but not for long.
"So what now?" Superboy asked from where he was slouched in his seat, blood and dirt smeared all over him.
"We still have our orders, so we push on," Aqualad answered whilst tending to a nasty burn across his arm. Those rebel bastards had quickly learned to bring Molotov cocktails to the party, to gruesome results.
"As if that's doing any good. We stamp out one group, only for a dozen more to spring up somewhere else. For crying out loud, we've been fighting all day long, and yet still there's no end to it," Superboy snarled as he glared out the window.
"Would you rather we just give up and let them run rampant?" Miss Martian suddenly snapped at him, the heat in her voice being enough to make everyone turn towards her with startled eyes. None more so than Superboy, and their eyes quickly became locked. The twitches and grimaces that followed told of a psychic discussion between the duo, one that ended with Superboy looking away with a tired sigh.
"I'm sorry, it's just… I don't…" he could not quite formulate his words, and was halted by a raised hand from Aqualad.
"There's nothing to forgive, we're all feeling the strain," he assured him, which produced a relieved nod of gratitude from the Kryptonian.
"Approaching drop-zone," Miss Martian suddenly announced. Wordlessly, the team grabbed weapons and equipment, ready for action.
"Artemis, Superboy," Aqualad announced as a hole in the floor opened. Below them, screams and gunfire signified another bloody skirmish between beleaguered law enforcement and insane rebels. They did not even remember the name of this particular town, they all blended together in their minds after the umpteenth time.
"Yo, bird boy, you better not come back later in need of more stitches, or I'll really give you something to be stitched up," Artemis called out as she strapped on a grapple rope, getting a snort from the boy wonder in turn.
"Don't worry about that, I'll be keeping a close eye on him," Kid Flash joked.
"Oh, I feel so reassured by that," Artemis sarcastically replied, and suddenly Kid Flash was next to her, an unnaturally serious look in his eyes.
"And… you take care out there as well," he haltingly said. Normally, this would be the moment she gives a scathing reply, but she held her tongue this time.
"Yeah, you too," she managed to reply, her eyes looking anywhere but his face. Then she was out of the hole before any further words could be exchanged, with Superboy following close behind.
"Move on to the next target," Aqualad ordered, and the bioship was quickly in motion again. Hesitantly, Aqualad turned to the one passenger who had remained silent throughout the journey so far./
"Zatanna," he called out, but received no answer as she continued to stare out of the bioship.
"Zatanna," he tried again as he walked over and laid a hand on her. She gave a squeak of surprise as she spun around with wide eyes.
"My apologies if I startled you," he was quick to say, but Zatanna just shook her head./
"No worry, I was… I just…" she tried to explain, hands visibly trembling, but Aqualad stopped her with a raised hand.
"I know, we're all going through it. Some of us are just better at hiding it," he assured her with a kind smile, one that she hesitantly returned.
"Didn't expect my first time with the team to turn out like this," she admitted in an attempt at good humor.
"I thought the same thing when the team was first formed, and yet it turned out well in the end," Aqualad answered with a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"We're approaching the target," Miss Martian cut in, and Aqualad's smile melted away, replaced by the stone-cold visage of a soldier.
"Come one then, we have work to do," then he grabbed his water bearers and made ready to leap into the fray again. Hesitantly, Zatanna stood up and followed him.
"Hey, Zee," Robin suddenly called out to her. He gave her a lopsided smile and a thumbs up. "Give 'em hell out there,"
With that encouragement, Aqualad and Zatanna leaped out of the bioship, back into the maelstrom of battle below.
"Forward, damn you all, forward!" Talia shouted, pistol in one hand and sword in the other, leaving a trail of dead traitors in her wake. At her side, Sensei was like a rock amidst a swirling sea, undaunted by the traitor onslaught as his fists shattered throats and ruptured organs with devastating blows.
"Out of my way, ungrateful curs," Sensei growled in annoyance as he and Talia fought their way through the horde. Behind the duo, those still loyal valiantly pushed on to keep up with their masters. Alas, though their hearts burned with zeal, their limbs now burned with exertion, their strikes growing slower with each swing. And for every traitor or intruder they struck down, two more stepped forward to take the fallen's place. Sheer weight in numbers were thus whittling away the loyalists. But this did not stop either Talia or Sensei, the duo carving a path of destruction through the traitor ranks.
"We are losing followers," Sensei casually remarked with his fingers buried in the throat of a traitor.
"They live to die for my father, and that's what they're doing," Talia growled out, her sword stuck in the chest of a traitor as she was hurriedly reloading her pistol, having emptied it into the six traitors piled up in front of her.
"Die, unbeli-" and then the two were in motion again, ending the traitor's battlecry and leaving his corpse in their wake. Finally, they punched through the lines, and come across a sight that stole the breath from their lungs. Before them, Katana stood, face impassive even as she pulled a scimitar out of her stomach. Barely a drop of blood fell out of the wound before it closed up again, and Katana threw the scimitar over her shoulder like unwanted garbage. And at her feet, lying in a pool of his own blood and clutching the bleeding stump that used to be his arm, was Ra's al Ghul.
"Father!" Talia cried out as she opened fire. Katana was instantly in motion, shielding her head as she dived head-first into the bullets without so much as a flinch. Sensei was quickly blocking her path, dodging under a decapitating strike while delivering a bone-shattering jab into her throat. She fell back, blood gushing out of her mouth, and Sensei was upon her in an instant with a flurry of crippling blows.
But she did not fall like the countless others, and instead struck back. Sensei sidestepped another slash before slapping aside a kick to the head, only to find Katana's masked face filling his vision right before taking a vicious headbutt to the nose. He stumbled black, face smeared with his blood, but Katana would not give up so easily and came at him again, ready to skewer him.
Then Talia was there, her blade finding a gap between Katana's ribs and puncturing her lugs. She gasped in surprise, and her blade went through Sensei's shoulder rather than the intended heart. But Sensei merely gritted his teeth, dragged the blade in deeper, and came down with a chop on Katana's wrist with enough force to shatter it. Then a kick to her chest sent her tumbling back as Talia drew back her blade.
"A tougher opponent than anticipated," Sensei grumbled as Katana stood back up without so much as a limp to indicate the beating she just survived.
"Our Intel mentioned nothing of her possessing Meta powers," Talia growled as she crouched into a fighting stance.
"Up until a few days ago, I didn't. Since I was selected to deal with the Shadows, my masters felt it prudent to give me some upgrades to make sure I could handle you all," Katana revealed as she began advancing on the duo at a calm and sedated pace, her blade swinging back and forth in lazy patterns as a show of her fully restored wrist.
"Awfully confident of you, to reveal such information to your enemies," Sensei remarked, and Katana's so far impassive face momentarily turned into one of scorn.
"Not like it will do you any good either way," she proclaimed, and then she crouched low to avoid the scimitar that came for her throat from behind. Barely had it passed her by before she reversed her grip and drove her katana back into whomever was attacking her. And Ra's al Ghul was too slow from fatigue and blood loss to do much else but gasp as the blade buried itself into his stomach.
"No!" Talia screamed, already charging towards Katana with fire in her eyes. Katana met her furious glare with one of apathy as she withdrew her sword. Talia's overhead swing was parried aside and the following slash was sidestepped before a knee slammed into Talia's stomach with such force that she was launched back and into the arms of Sensei./
"Control yourself, girl!" he admonished her, even as she fell to her knees with blood and puke pouring out of her mouth. "Anger will not help us here!"
"I've grown tired of distractions. Keep these cretins busy while I finish up here," Katana ordered, and the horde of cultists at her back surged forward with savage howls. Sensei hurriedly hauled Talia back on her feet and pushed her behind him as he tried fending off the onrushing tide. Katana meanwhile turned her attention back to Ra's al Ghul, gasping for breath at her feet.
"I would normally say that this isn't personal, but considering the things you've done, I can't deny a small sense of pride at having rid this world of you," she commented, her sword held above the defeated man. But even now, there was no fear in the man's eyes.
"All my deeds, good and bad, have been in pursuit of a better future for this world. What's your excuse?" he sneered at her. Something came over Katana at those words, but it was gone as fast as it had appeared. Then, she brought the sword down, driving it straight through Ra's chest and skewering his heart. He gave one last gasp, and then he lay still, a faint mist seemingly rising from his body and vanishing into the blade.
"And so ends the great Demon's Head," Katana murmured before her gaze swung towards a barely recovered Talia.
"You bitch!" Talia screamed at her, already back to cutting down cultists as she tried to fight her way forward. But Sensei was suddenly there dragging her back.
"What are you doing!? Let me go! She must pay!" she screamed and shouted, but Sensei would not relinquish his grip.
"It's too late already, we've lost here! We must flee now, lest the master's bloodline is wiped out for good!" he stated as he forcibly dragged her back the way they came, still able to fend off overeager cultists that got too close.
"Shut up! I will not be denied my revenge!" Talia swore, still fiercely struggling in his grips.
"Then survive this day, and take your revenge later! Your death here will solve nothing!" he chastised her. Something in his words must have struck a chord within her soul, for she ceased her struggles. Then, with one last hateful glare at Katana, who had been approaching them at a leisurely stroll, she turned and fled with Sensei.
The Los Angeles Police Department was not hard to locate, one only had to follow the sporadic gunfire and police sirens, sooner or later they would lead you where you wanted. Krieg had felt the tiniest slivers of joy when he found some proper resistance against the enemy along 5th street, with beleaguered cops holed up behind makeshift car barricades trying to hold off packs of cultists. Needless to say, once Krieg got involved, those cultists were not long for this world.
"Hold fire! We are allies!" Krieg called out once the last cultist fell over dead, marching out in the open with his hands held in plain view. For a split second, it looked like the entire police line was ready to drown him in lead.
"Stand down!" luckily, that never came to pass as that one shout from the rear had the entire line lowering their guns. Deeming it safe to approach, Krieg marched straight across the killing field. He was met at the barricades by what he assumed was the highest ranking officer at this line. Hard to tell with certainty though, what with all the blood and dirt smeared across his tattered uniform. Looked like it had been a rough day here as well.
"Well I'll be damned! Good to see some cape back-up around here!" he greeted, relief palpable in his every word.
"My apologies for the delay, I have been most busy dealing with these cultists in other parts of the city," Krieg took a moment to observe the hundreds of corpses littering the ground in front of the barricades like a mangled carpet. "I see that fighting has been particularly fierce around here,"
"You bet your ass. As soon as these fuckers figured out our location, they've been hitting us non-stop for-" that was when he noticed the large mass of people shuffling on behind Krieg. The way his eyes widened told Krieg all he needed to know on what would happen in the next few seconds without his intervention.
"At ease, they are not cultists," he quickly assured him, making sure to block his line of sight, and his line of fire, to the civilians with his body.
"You sure?" the officer asked with a suspicious gleam in his eyes. Not that Krieg could blame him on that.
"Positive. I have personally rescued each and every one of them from cultist attacks," a bit of an exaggeration there, as some of these people had actually fended off the cultists on their own and then tagged along with Krieg when he passed by with his flock of confused civilians.
"If you say so," the officer relented, though he still looked mighty distrustful of them. Good, it meant he had a good head on his shoulders.
"Feel free to keep them detained here for the moment if you so please, but I have to speak to Commissioner Steele about something very important," Krieg stated. A dubious look was cast between him and the crowd behind him, but eventually the officer relented with a slow nod.
"Very well, you're cleared to pass, but we're keeping your pals here until we've done a thorough search of them," he warned.
"Your terms are acceptable," Krieg answered before climbing over the barricades and walking deeper into the safe zone. Quite astonishing, really. In less than a day, what had once been a civilian sector had been transformed into a makeshift field camp. As he walked on, he could see soup kitchens, hospitals, barracks, weapon storages, bunker emplacements and garages, all of it converted from commercial stores and residential houses.
Only place that still looked vaguely the same to its original design was the police headquarters itself, but even that had the front entrance stacked to the brim with sandbags and heavy machine guns, and manned by some of the toughest and meanest looking cops Krieg had ever had the pleasure of seeing. They eyed him every step of the way like hungry sharks ready to tear into a piece of meat, and Krieg gave them a brief nod of acknowledgement as he passed them by.
Inside, the building was like an ant colony, with unarmed staff members and fully kitted out officers running back and forth in a flurry of activity. With the inbred ease of a trench soldier, Krieg maneuvered his way through the frantic hallways and staircases. From time to time, eagle-eyed guards saw him for the anomaly that he was and tried to stop him, only to step back once they got a good look at his skull-plated gasmask. At last, he found the commissioner hard at work inside one of the more spacious offices, a map of the city nailed to the wall as he was in a heated discussion with his subordinates. The instant Krieg stepped inside, those discussions ended as every pair of eyes swung in his direction.
"Krieg! Wasn't expecting you to show up," Steele greeted, receiving a brief nod from Krieg.
"Commissioner," he replied as he fully stepped inside. "My apologies for this interruption, but I am here hoping to enlist your help," this garnered everyone's undivided attention.
"We're kinda pinned in place and squeezed tight on resources, Krieg, this had better be important," Steele warned.
"Then I will get straight to the point. I have roughly a hundred civilians at your barricades in need of arms and armament. After that, I need your help in establishing contact with as many civilian pockets as possible and bring them into fold as well. Naturally, they will need to be properly equipped as well," by the end of his little explanation, everyone was staring at him as if he had grown a second head that could flawlessly recite the Book of Lorgar backwards in Swahili.
"Come again?" one of the officers spoke up after quite the lengthy silence.
"You need it further simplified? Very well, I want your help in raising an army," Krieg explained, and that got a reaction.
"An army? Are you fucking mental?! Those a freaking civilians you're talking about, not real soldiers!" one of them shouted as she rose with such force that it sent her chair tumbling away.
"I am well aware of that fact. However, as this attack is happening world-wide, we cannot expect proper reinforcements within the foreseeable future, and so we must make do with what we have," Krieg countered with the same air of calmness as when he stepped in.
"And what would you do with this 'army' of shop owners and office workers," another mockingly asked, only to quickly wilt under Krieg stare.
"Is that not obvious? I aim to take this city back from the enemy, one city block at a time if need be," he stated. Once again, there was silence within the room. Then, Steele stepped forward.
"You realize what you're asking, right? This plan of yours will violate so many laws and regulations, especially for costumed heroes, that you'd be lucky if you ever set foot outside of a cell for the rest of your life. And that's not even getting into the plan itself. They're not soldiers, they're just ordinary people. Hundreds will die if they follow you," he tried to explain, but Krieg remained unmoved.
"Thousands," he simply corrected, to the collective shock of everyone gathered. A fierce stand-off ensued between Krieg and Steele, both measuring the other up.
"And you truly believe this is necessary?" Steele questioned.
"I've faced this enemy before, I know what they're capable of. What we've faced so far is simply the prelude, the expendable pawns hurled at us to weaken us for the real blow. When the true strike comes, we must all stand together and fight, or none of us will make it," Krieg stated with absolute conviction.
"Look me in the eyes and say that," Steele demanded as he loomed above Krieg. A moment of silence followed, and then Krieg slowly lifted his arms and began removing his helmet and gasmask. Everyone held their breath as the mask came off and they got a good look at their resident hero for the first time. Krieg for his part ignored them all as he stared at the commissioner squarely in the eyes.
"This is the only way for us to survive," Krieg yet again stated. Steele held Krieg's stare for what felt like an eternity, but then he broke away with a resigned sigh.
"I'm getting too old for this," he murmured before turning back to his subordinates. "Send the call out. Round up every man, woman and child that can feasibly carry a gun, and start piling up as many weapons as we can find. Loot the dead if you have to," the whole room was but a hair's breadth from an uproar at that point.
"But sir-" one brave officer tried to give voice to what they were all thinking.
"That's an order, dammit! Now move out!" but Steele cut him off before he could even start, and the rest promptly fled the room to carry out their orders. Within seconds, only Krieg and Steele remained.
"I will begin scouting out the enemy positions, call me when we have a force large enough to strike back," Krieg said as he began to leave as well. He only managed to take two steps before a hand landed on his pauldron and held him in place with an iron grip.
"I just sent countless innocents to their imminent deaths with that order. For your sake, Krieg, you had better be right about this," Steele growled at him, anger burning in his eyes.
"If I am wrong about this, neither of us will be alive to regret it," Krieg simply responded before shaking off the grip and continuing on his way.
