A/N

Hello again, people, and welcome to another chapter. So soon, I know.

But, this has reached 500 views! Sooo amazing!

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Chapter 10: Mark II

Day 41- Secret Cave

Precisely fitting on the last piece of my advanced, new armour- the guantlets- I go through my mental checklist of all my numerous gadgets. First of all, I press a switch on my forearm and electricity visibly crackles through my fingers, sparks twitching them slightly. Then, the new weapons I will now wield- a modified M9 handgun, filled with tranq darts; located on the holster on my right thigh. Next, the grappling guns attached to my forearms, potentially used for scaling buildings. If you press in a tiny button on my right peck, a compartment slides open, revealing vital pieces of survival equipment- a rebreather, a med-kit, spare batteries for my gloves, and a small tracker. Finally, my suit itself. A weapon in its own right, its composition is of a substantially dense fiber, but also light and flexible. However, its true strength is its mysterious spine, laced with what Smithy calls "Nth Metal"; supposedly a physical enhancer. At last, the awesome domino mask, hiding my eye colour with a weird lens.

"Judging by the awe-struck face, you like it." Smithy proudly comments, examining my apparel for one last time. "Good, because I'm not making another." he adds on, grumpily.

"That's fine by me, gramps. Still, it is actually cool." I approvingly appraise, checking out the design in the mirror. This creation looks like a metallic compound due to the appearance of the fibre, and along the spine is noticeably darker, showing off the Nth metal. Woven across the chestpiece is three lines, stretching from my right shoulder to left waist, each bearing a dark red against the black background that is the majority of the armour; they give the imagery of a huge claw marks, (supposedly) representing the ferocity in which I pursue my enemies. Despite my name- Black Titan- I guess that does seem heroic, yet not similar to my alias. That is why we put something... extra in. Based on the front of my chest, a symbol lies- the mark of Hyperion, one of the mythological beings. Lacking creativity myself, it's fair to say that Smith is Da Vinci reincarnated.

"Cool? It's not supposed to be cool, but efficient and worthy of your skills." Smith heavily sighs, fixing me with a gaze of obvious disapproval. "Now, be a good hero, and find something to fight. We need to get it on a trial run; see what it's made of." Smithy brazenly orders, tapping away at a computer with the delicacy of a pianist.

"Find something to fight? To be honest, I don't seek out a lowlife to hit, they usually come to me." I incredulously gasp. What is this guy thinking? That I just go on patrols, and beat down anyone that steps out of line. This is reaching critical point. "Before you be sarcastic, yes I know, I should let them come to me then." I cut him off before he could even open his mouth fully. "Let's test away." I warily continue.

"Just be careful as that suit costs more than Laker's game tickets." Smithy sincerely warns, being thoroughly genuine in his emphasis. Sometimes, I have no earthly clue why I stuck around here. Both him and Karen know, however if I do escape, who's to reckon that they publish my secret.

"Don't say that to Kobe." I mockingly advise, simultaneously spinning on my heels and bounding off of the platform, heading to the emergency exit. By that, I mean the " hero's" entrance... through the sewers. Sliding open the grate via a minute button, I trudge into the hole, instantly being met by a rancid stench.

Choking back bile, I disgustingly wade through the water; luckily, the suit is water-proof. Reflecting on it now, maybe I should have hung up the boots a while ago. Compared to most other superhero's, I am practically a rookie. Whereas most villain's are powered, the people I have squared off against are chiefly humans. What does that say about me? Am I weak, or just lucky?

There is only one other peer I can relate with at the moment, and that's the Dark Knight. The Batman's elegance and ruthless brutality combines perfectly. Although I will never reach his levels of these, I can aspire to be a fraction of his effectiveness. For me, Superman is too gullible; his belief in humanity is insurmountably flawed, and he refuses to use his full powers, testifying against his weakness- his compassion. In the right amounts, it's an unshakeable resolve, but at the Man of Steel's levels, it's glaringly suffocating.

Black Titan is not a member of the hallowed Justice League, and yet I can comprehend the reality. Even the Caped Crusader is marginally wrong; his drive for justice, outshines the need for order. When he reprimands offenders, he does so individually, observing Gotham's troubles as caused by few, not by the place itself. Order is what maintains the world's stability. It doesn't need to be enforced with cruelty for it to be practical, but some sentients have a knack of visualising it that way. So, out of the defenders Earth has to offer, I sympathise with the Green Lantern's the most. They act with certainty, and not as restricted in terms of morals. Yes, they can't kill... nevertheless, the corps main principles are peace through co-operative order. Dissenters are punished, the populace flourish.

As for my agenda, it's purely simple. In a city that has falsified control over the population, I want to reshape it, anew. No longer will the corrupt police feign order, ignorant to the disease rotting away at the cities' core. "Morons." I furiously mutter as I reach halfway to the downtown surface. To exercise this virus, I need to watch the wider view. Delta City was founded to be a modern utopia- free of crime, and the new American dream. It needs to be a metropolis that heals itself of wounds; to be independent, and where its society labours in unison to guard each other from harm. Not forced, but voluntary.

All variables considered, it is definitely possible, yet improbable. Story of my life, so far, I guess. "Just be careful as that suit costs more than Laker's game tickets" I snort, imitating the elderly engineer. Sure, I will; risk my life to save a suit, no problem. I muse, irritated by the command. He does have a point, though. I admit.

Carrying on with my tedious stroll, I figure out the next few phases of my dreadful life. The next section will no doubt include being recruited into the prestigious Justice League; well, a hero can dream. After that, more than likely I would die, painfully. If I find some miniscule odd to survive, anything is within my eager reach. Big Seven, I'm in. The Trinity- who needs Superman? Yeah right, I have to get in the damn group first. I scoff at the idea.

And, I must prove myself to the mighty heroes of Earth. A task very few have ever hoped to achieve in their tenures... ie Waterfall.

Hearing a sudden splash of water, I swerve in the direction of the noise. On the water, I sight a gentle ripple emanating from an epicentre. That shouldn't have caused a huge noise I reason, and keep my eyes trained on the position. "Am I hearing things, now?" I chuckle, realising I just wasted three minutes of my life. "Great."

Resuming my travels, I focus my enhanced senses to be on the watch for any dubious activity, just in case. How long is this going to take? I complain at the sheer length of walking to be done, not mentioning the horrid environment I am in.

Presiding over a city full of residents is tough, especially for someone like me. The Green Lanterns preside over an entire galaxy, however they have massive ranks. Then, you have the Flash, capable of zooming into every corner of Central City within milliseconds. Being semi-normal is okay, but it can... demoralise you. Everyday, I wake up wondering if today will be my doom. When I survive to experience tomorow, fear comes with it; death could be around the corner. I guess that's a side dish for all the joys that accompany heroism.

The expressions of pure joy, plastered along people's mouths as they cheer and applaud you; not what you've done, butyou The endless numbers of children, buying toys and merchandise with your name on it. So, this hasn't happened to met yet, nevertheless it could happen... right? Anyway, just how civilians seek you out if in dire straits, and cry with hope when you arrive. This is starting to become my dreams, not reality. Delta City views me as another Batman- cruel, but necessary. That has to adapt if I am to become what I was born to be.

Partly, that's why I amended the dynamics of the Mark II; to be more inspiring, to be more heroic. Just as hastily as I took up the mantle of Black Titan, I shaped what it meant to be the... 'Silent Savior', as the citizens have begun to call me.

Shaking away my many clouding thoughts, I adventure to the light starting to peek through a manhole grate. Damn, it's still light out. I curse at the sight, and patiently lean against the sewer wall. Checking my gear with earnest zeal, I silently wish it had a smell dampener. The stench is growing with every momentary sniff.

After six painstaking hours pass (I checked with each second), I traverse to the refreshingly bland-smelling surface. "Good riddance." I spit at the manhole, attempting to rude my mouth of the musty tang that resides there. Then, wallowing in the cooling night air, I decide to run to my intended objective, the poorer suburbs. Known for the gang violence that erupts there- spawned by frustration- during the bitter evenings of Delta City.

Before I even entered the infamously dangerous district, I caught a suspicious glance at a well-dressed, tall man, stood professionally in front of a car with his hands over his groin area. Hello... what are you doing here... at this time at night? Allowing myself an entertained smirk, I swiftly dance out of his view, rolling behind a parked car. Analytically flying my eyes around the rooftops, I discover a building with a flat top. "Bingo." I aim my wrist-launcher, and readily shoot, hitting the edge of the roof.

Reeling it in tentatively, I am astounded that am I still alive by the time I clambered up the side of the building. Thank you, Smithy. I mentally rejoice and peek over the edge. The ominous man remains acutely tranquil in the middle of the road, seemingly awaiting a guest. Right on que, another man comes out of the building opposite, guardedly scanning his surroundings.

When he promptly dashes across the road, I detect his shocking identity, via a brief glimpse of his distinct face.

The Commisioner.

A/N

How coincidental, isn't it? Why is the Commisioner meeting someone? See in the next glorious chapter!

Hope you enjoyed, and see you in the next instance of this Prologue/Prequel