Act II: DESCENT
Chapter I: Stranger Than Kindness
3 YEARS AFTER THE EVENTS OF ACT 1
Central City had been healing for three years. Under the leadership of Shade the Echidna, the efforts to rebuild the city had been steadily coming along.
There was so much more work to do, however.
There was still an element of pain and darkness that hung over the city like a blanket, and even though the police-force had grown exponentially in the three years – they still found themselves losing their footing.
The events of Mephiles' attack caused an uprising of hope in the city. Citizens wanted change, and this time they worked harder for it than ever.
But that never means that the forces of evil that roam beneath the city would lie dormant.
The apartment building window shattered, two men in clown masks positioning as they looked down onto the roof of Central City Bank – hoisting a grappling hook from the windowsill as they fired a rope across the way, hooking it onto the roof.
The two masked men looked towards each other, nodding as they hooked their harnesses to the wire – sliding across the rope eighty stories off the ground.
Pulling themselves up to the roof, they clicked their transponders – sending a signal out to the rest of their crew.
Down below three blocks away, a man in a muggy red and black suit stood on the corner – a ghost mask pulled tightly over his head, with a duffel-bag hanging from the other shoulder.
As a van pulled up to the block, he nodded – stepping into the backseat as he situated himself.
The driver and the passenger both wore masks – one wore a clown mask, the other a dinosaur.
"Just three guys?! That ain't enough shares for everyone, yeah?" The passenger said.
"Two guys on the roof, the three of us, and the guy who planned the job," The driver replied.
"Right, that guy that planned the job. I heard they call him Eclipse, right?" The passenger stated.
"That's what I've heard. Not sure why they call him that."
The man in the backseat stayed silent.
On the roof, the two masked men popped the cover off on the breaker-box, rummaging through their bags.
"So – why do they call him Eclipse?" One man asked.
"Apparently, he's a deformed red and black lizard. Has black sclera's and weird orange eyes. They've called him the darkling before too."
The van pulled to a stop, the three men hopping out, guns drawn.
The driver and passenger took the lead, the third man looking both ways as they entered the bank.
Hopping through the velvet ropes, the bank was large. The architecture was rich with marble pillars and floors.
The first man fired his gun in the air – enticing screams from the bank-tellers as the two men began barking orders.
The third man continued to stay silent.
A brown weasel took his glasses off, looking through the window of his office as he stayed put, eyes following the perpetrators carefully.
On the roof, the man disabling the alarm cocked his head. "Huh – it was trying to reach a private number. It's all good though, alarms off."
The man behind him nodded, "So, we all good here?"
"Yeah – we're set."
The man behind him nodded again, before pulling out his pistol and firing it into the back of his head.
Grabbing his stuff, he began to make his way down to the vault from the roof.
The men in the bank continued barking orders, lining the bank tellers up in a hostage line, the third man placing grenades into their hands.
The weasel continued to watch carefully, slowly opening a cabinet beneath his desk in his office.
The two men placed their bags onto counters – the third man watching over the hostages.
"Don't do nothin' with your hands except for holding onto those grenades!" One of the men said.
The man from the roof made it to the vault, pushing the drill onto the vault door. It was heavily guarded, a state-of-the-art vault that would be a trick to break into.
Despite this, the man turned the crank – the drill coming forward as it began to make contact with the vault door.
The passenger apprehended a security guard – hitting him in the back of the head with his submachine gun, pointing it wildly across the bank.
"Everyone stay down! Don't say a word! Don'-"
His words were cut short as a shotgun blast fired behind him, the bullets spreading into his back as he collapsed.
Behind him, the weasel stepped through the now shattered window, holding his shotgun to his chest as he began thundering across the bank floor.
The third man hopped behind the tables, taking cover as shotgun blasts thudded into the tables. The third man moved quickly across the backs of the tables, avoiding the thuds of bullets striking into the tables.
He skidded across to the last table, taking cover with the driver – the pair now the only two left in the bank floor.
The weasel continued thundering forward, cocking his shotgun. "Do you two have any idea who you're stealin' from?! When Starline finds out, you and your friends are dead!"
The driver sighed, looking to the third man. "He's out, right? He can't have much ammo left?"
The third man stopped for a moment – before nodding behind his ghost mask.
The driver shot up, firing a round as the weasel returned the shot, as he cocked the last shell out of his shotgun.
He was out.
The third man lept up from behind the table, unloading his automatic pistol into the weasel's chest. The weasel stumbled, before toppling onto the ground.
The driver lifted up, holding onto his shoulder – where the shotgun bullet had struck.
"Where'd you learn to count?! You said he was out!"
The third man continued staring at the weasel.
The driver made his way to the vault, as the man with the drill had just finished drilling it open.
"What kinda vault runs on this many volts?" The man asked.
"This is the mob's bank. The citizens of the city don't know that, though," The driver responded, before tilting his head.
"What happened to the alarm guy?" The driver asked.
"Boss told me when he was done, I had to take him out. One less share."
"Funny – he told me the same thing."
The man stopped, before turning around with his hands up. "Wait, wait, wait, DON-"
The driver shot him in the chest.
The third man pranced around the bank floor, keeping watch as the employees cowered beneath tables. Any minute now.
The driver darted into the vault, opening the bags as he began pouring money in.
Once he returned with the bags, the driver and the third man put them in a pile.
"This is a lotta money. Guess this Eclipse guy is as crazy as they say," The driver remarked.
As the third man had his back turned, he heard the cocking of a pistol.
"I bet the boss told you to take me out once we got the money, huh?"
The third man stepped to the side, tilting his head as he checked his watch.
For the first time, he spoke.
"No, no, no – I kill the school bus driver."
The driver cocked his head.
"What bus driv-"
On a dime, a school bus backed in through the doors, smashing through the entrance of the bank with such force that it rammed into the driver, breaking his neck upon impact.
As the back of the bus opened, another man with a mask stepped out, helping the third man load the money.
"Jeez – that's a lotta money."
As the third man threw the last bag to the driver, he turned around. The driver tilted his head.
"What happened to everyone else?"
The third man didn't turn around – just unloaded bullets into his chest as the driver fell to the ground dead.
The third man was the last one left, grabbing the final bag and dragging it into the bus.
"You think you're smart, huh?" The weasel muttered, caved over onto the ground.
The man turned around, walking towards the injured weasel.
"The guy that hired you – he'll just kill you too."
The man cocked his head again, stepping closer.
"Criminals in this city – they used to believe in things. Honor, respect, power. What about you huh? What do you believe in? WHAT DO YOU BELIEVE IN?!"
The man bent down, taking out a canister of tear-gas from his pocket.
"I believe – that the one thing I choose to be…"
Pulling off his mask – he revealed himself to be –
Eclipse the Darkling.
"Is stranger than kindness."
He chuckled lightly, revealing a row of sharp, yellow teeth as his orange eyes bore into the weasel's soul.
Opening his mouth, he placed the tear gas into the weasel's mouth. He connected a string to it, grabbing onto the string as he hopped into the back of the bus.
Slamming the door shut on the string, he pulled the bus out – driving back through the crashed out door.
As the weasel laid there, the string disconnected, opening the vial of tear gas as it began billowing out from the vial.
The weasel sighed, accepting his fate that was soon to come.
The bus pulled onto the streets, enticing screams and hollers from citizens as the bus piled onto the roads.
In the bus, Eclipse cackled, slamming on the gas as he licked his lips.
Time to get workin'.