The scent of smoke and burnt rubber permeated the air as Léon slid off of the hood of the car and limped out into the street. Alright, so this annoying little shit's the stand, which means the user can't be far off. His eyes scoured the area. Locating the potential stand user amidst the panic was like finding a needle in a haystack. Everywhere he looked, faces filled to the brim with terror fled the scene. Judging by their body language and the sounds of their voices, there's no way any of them could be the user. Not unless they were great at acting.
"Not like the others, you are." The veiny brain slipped down the side of the traffic light, wrapping a tentacle around it. "Hmm, yes, you're quite the anomaly."
"...the hell are you talking about, you ugly wad of chewing gum!?"
The brainy blob poked a metal-speckled tendril to its would-be chin, creasing a brow over its black eyes. "Tell me something: are you familiar with cause and effect?"
Léon snarled. "Listen, you —"
A motorcycle came flipping over the pavement right towards him. "Oh, shit!" Léon acted on instinct and dove out of the way, evading the motorcycle as it crashed mere feet away. "Fils de putain! Are you just trying to get people killed, or what? What's your fucking deal?"
"Gweeehehehe! You know," the brain coursed a tendril down the flashing traffic light, "the thing that amuses me is the result. Take these traffic signals for instance. There's a pattern, right? People are subject to patterns everyday; do you know why?"
Personally, I don't care.
"The answer is order. Did you know that even the universe itself has order? How people follow specific patterns subconsciously? It's inevitable. Everything you do is based on a pattern, which leads us back to the cause and effect. Traffic in this intersection would be flowing at a normal pace, following the order of the lights. But then…something obstructs the pattern — what is the result?"
"A talking brain that doesn't know how to shut the fuck up?"
The brain laughed. "Nooo, no, no, no, no. I'm the cause, you see. The reason you got into a car crash in the first place. Mighty Gamma Ray's power doesn't lie in combative technique, but in weaving the threads of light."
Léon's eyes moved up to a nearby monitor where he noted the glitching and flickering. What is the point of all this?
"When there's a line of ants," Gamma Ray droned on, "and you squash one, it releases pheromones that triggers the others to flee. The cause lies in your actions. You killed that ant, now as a result, the rest are running from the threat. Now, what was the purpose in killing the ant? Hmmm? Was it because of your innate curiosity? Boredom? Or maybe you find it entertaining. Enlighten me: why were you heading down the road?"
I'm getting really sick of listening to this dipshit…
"Because it was your choice. You got inside that car and as a result, came speeding to this intersection, where my electromagnetic interference disrupted these flashing traffic lights. So now I'm utilizing the photon energy to obstruct the sequence in which they are programmed to follow. People are dying as a result, too! Isn't that funny?"
"Hilarious…" Léon rolled his eyes, "...having the worst night of my life is a real gut buster. Now how about you quit running your mouth so I can disrupt the order of your face?" He rolled up the sleeve of his jacket and raised his fist. Clay prongs formed from a gooey matter extending from his bony knuckles.
Gamma Ray smirked. "Tsk, tsk. So cocky."
Again, Léon searched for any trace of the user. Nothing. Everyone else had already vacated the premises, leaving just him standing amidst a burning wreck in the middle of Malfunction Junction. Then he wondered: could the user be operating his stand from a distance? If so, where?
If this thing is a remote control stand, then I should be able to take down the user by pummeling this piece of shit out of existence. All this fucker seems to be doing is running its mouth anyway. "So what? You made a bunch of lights flicker and caused a massive car wreck. Your ability is lame as hell." He grinned mischievously at Gamma Ray. "Bet that's why you're up there instead of down here, right? You're so scared of what I might do."
Gamma Ray narrowed its dark eyes, the corner of its mouth quirking. "Scared? Moi? Hehehe…oh, noooo, mon amie. You've got me all wrong. Gamma Ray, per contra, is unequivocally intrepid. But I'll gladly share a secret with you, mon frere. It's something you're just dying to know! Hehehehehe!"
Léon's gut twisted. The fuck does that mean?
"Gamma Ray — me, that's me — is a puppet without a master, a computer without a programmer, a block of marble without a sculptor. A stand without…well, you do the math. Gweeeheheheh! "
Léon's face deepened with disbelief. "No fucking way…I thought all stands had a user…?"
"Not all," Gamma Ray gloated, "you see, my user died today in that shootout at the hands of Albus Thunder-something-or-other…" Gamma Ray winced, shaking its brainy form to derail its current train of thought. "T-th-that's not important! You think I'm scared, do you? Well, then … allow me to shed some light on what fear truly feels like!"
The colors of the traffic lights faded from red, green, and yellow to a solid white as they increased in intensity. Bright rays burned Léon's corneas and skin as he shielded his eyes behind his forearm, shutting them tightly. A searing pain likened to fire singed his arm. The thought of the light getting hotter never crossed his mind until the radiation bore blisters.
"...the hell?!"
Gamma Ray snickered. "I wouldn't keep standing in this intersection much longer if I were you."
"Shit!"
Fear ousted the will to fight. He had to get out of there; he had to find a dark place for the time being. Instinctively, he dashed out of the invisible rays burning his skin, praying silently that Gamma Ray's light didn't extend beyond the crossroads. A dark place. Finding one seemed simple enough. What advantage would the enemy have over him if there wasn't a light source? Léon raced into a dank alley and pressed his back against brick and mortar, examining the damage Gamma Ray inflicted on his forearm.
Scorched, red skin, radiation blisters, and a scathing pain. Lightly brushing his hand over it alone burned like hell. It was like the sunburn he'd gotten last summer, but magnified to feel ten times worse. His trip to the hospital was looking all the more inevitable. Léon grit his teeth, gently easing the sleeve of his jacket over the burns.
Maybe that'll keep it from getting worse.
As he made his way up the alley, the burns had become much more irritated by the denim rubbing against them. There goes any idea of using the sleeve as a shield. Crouching by a nearby puddle and a dumpster, he carefully removed his jacket, keeping an eye — and ears — out for any sign of Gamma Ray. I really don't want to ruin this jacket…screw it. Rebel Yell protracted its black claws, inserting them through the tear Moncestierre's knife had made in the shoulder of his jacket earlier. Seams unraveled, threads separated. The very last thread ripped away, sealing the nail in the coffin for how well he'd taken care of his favorite piece of clothing.
Damn. I had this custom made and everything. He slipped it on, annoyed by the fact one arm was exposed and the other was swallowed. "I look stupid, but I can't risk getting any more burns. If these were just UV rays, Rebel Yell could apply an extra coating of clay. So much for that." Distant police sirens howled as he trekked through the alley. His nerves were on edge, causing him to repetitively glance behind him now and again. Things were awfully quiet, more than he would like to admit. Where was Gamma Ray? Was he unable to leave the intersection?
"Something about this doesn't feel right."
Léon stepped into a larger, trashier backstreet riddled with broken glass, dumpsters, and random parts to cybernetic limbs scattered along the rubbish collecting mold; and god knows what else. Scampering in the shadows was a rat squeaking. To that he shuddered. Ughhh…I hate rats.
Swallowing, he took a few more steps, glancing to the right of him when something sharp met his throat. Brushing up behind him was a man towering over him with broad shoulders and a sizable chest. A cold metal arm wrapped around his shoulders, forcibly pressing him into his wide-framed body. Stupefied, Léon stood rigidly unable to gather his thoughts together. Although he couldn't see the face of his adversary, the accomplice's identity was all but clear; leaning forward and mocking him.
"Wooo, look who decided to grace us with his presence! Aww, you lost Polnarat?"
Léon shot him a half-lidded stare. "Fuck off, Tiny."
The man in front of him — Tiny Dancer, so-called — had a metal plate over one eye, likely due to losing it in a fight with members from the gang Léon associated with. Léon's response made him laugh, as well as the colossus restraining him. Tiny Dancer inhaled hard, gathering mucus at the back of his throat, then spitting it directly in Léon's face. Ughh! Fucking gross! Tiny Dancer's large, rough hand clamped his jowls, turning Léon's head forcefully as he studied him.
Get your germ-infested hand off my face, you son of a bitch!
"Gee, a pretty boy like you in a dingy alley like this? With Geil's droids tearing up the place, we thought you'd be behind bars by now."
Léon's ears perked. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
Tiny Dancer released his grip on him, leaning in closer and breathing foul breath into Léon's face as he spoke. "It means you three hemorrhoids are supposed to be in jail for the murder of men, women, and children. Oh, wait. That was the robots' doing! Ha! We might have failed claiming Quiet Riot territory, but with the way things are looking right now, Angus and the rest of your gang ain't here to save you."
Shit! The guy behind him had every intent to use that knife. There was only this moment to act, and he was taking it. "Rebel Yell!" Léon shouted.
Screams filled the alley as the man restraining Léon watched his knife and cybernetic arms transform into a lump of wet, squishy clay. Tiny Dancer back-stepped, snarling, "You freak!"
Disgust churned in Léon's gut as his palm removed the mucus from his cheek and wiped it all over Tiny Dancer's accomplice. "You know, my ex said the same thing. Maybe not in the same context, buuut—"
"Yeugh! Shut up!" He whipped out a butterfly knife. "I'm gonna do Geil the favor of carving you into mincemeat!"
Léon stared at him, deadpanned. "Yeah?"
"Yeah!"
"Yeah?!"
"YEAAAHH!"
God, he's so pathetic. Both of them. To top it all off, neither of them have stands. When are these bozos going to learn to give up and leave me the hell alone? Neither Tiny Dancer, nor Léon made anymore remarks. They just stared at each other, listening to the sniveling and panicking of the clay-armed accomplice. The knife in Tiny Dancer's hand trembled as he swallowed.
Léon took his leave through the backstreet. "Go harass somebody else."
"Th-th-th-this isn't over!" Tiny Dancer yelled, his voice ricocheting off the concrete and brick walls.
A stream of light beamed from the streetlight, illuminating the wall at the end of the alley. Léon took one step out onto the sidewalk and immediately regretted it. His exposed arm, cheeks, and shoulder was scalded by radiation. Gamma Ray. Annoying laughter brought his attention to the top of the streetlight where a veiny brain had its tentacles wrapped around the pole.
"There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you. Hiding in the dark alley to avoid the beams? Why, isn't that predictable. I knew you'd eventually come out sooner or later."
"Dammit!" Léon retreated back into the alley, bolting back into the area where Tiny Dancer was squatting down, giving words of encouragement to his traumatized accomplice. Words of encouragement in the sense that he was just repeating the same useless things over and over.
"Come on, Husselhoff, it's not that bad. Pull yourself together already!"
Husselhoff sniffled, his bass voice carrying a higher, whiny pitch. "Does this mean I'm outta the gang?"
Tiny Dancer exasperated. "Idiot…get off your ass and help me kill this punk kid!"
Like a wilting flower, Husselhoff sat there in a defeated slouch. "Okaaayyy…"
In the moment that Tiny Dancer turned on his heel, both he and Léon locked eyes; a dumbfounded expression spread across their faces. "Wh–w-w- man, you must really want to die tonight." Tiny Dancer flourished his butterfly knife.
Léon glanced behind him, eyes wide and heart pounding. Gamma Ray was no longer on the streetlight, he was floating in mid-air coming towards him. Each tendril moved in a wavy motion, making him look like a fleshy, metal-infused sun. "No matter where you run, you can't hide from the light!"
Damn these relentless pricks! What am I, a magnet?!
The irony of it all was that he'd found himself standing smack in the middle of the idiom, between a rock and a hard place . Tiny Dancer with his butterfly knife and Gamma Ray with his photon bending abilities. On one hand, he would waste his time on Tiny Dancer and Husselhoff, leaving himself defenseless to whatever source of light poured into the alley. On the other hand, he would get stabbed by Geil's henchmen and there he'd be. Lifeless. Either way it was a lose-lose situation. If I'm going to take all three of them on, it needs to be in a dark place.
There were those words again — a dark place. But in a city with lights around every street corner, where did such a place exist? Alleyways were dark enough, but not untouchable. Light still shone from windows, streetlights, and the signs on the buildings. And then a thought popped into Léon's head. That settles it. I'm going to have to take the fight inside one of these buildings.
Tiny Dancer thrust his knife in an attempt to catch Léon off guard and stab him. The blade made a near miss by his ear as he tilted his head. Léon clasped his hand around Tiny Dancer's arm, delivering a hard jab of the elbow to his abdomen. He flung him over his shoulder, slamming his lanky form to the concrete. Not wasting any more time, he made a run for it, passing a dumbstruck Husselhoff on his way out of the shadows. "Ayo, Tiny. He's getting away. What should I do?"
"You ignoramus, go after him!"
"But what about you? I can't just leave you here."
Tiny Dancer grumbled as he climbed to his feet. "I'm coming with you, bordel d'imbecile. Now get goin'!"
Gamma Ray slipped between them unnoticed, in hot pursuit of Léon. "Gweeehehehe! Wherever are you going?!" Rounding the exit to the alley, the streetlights lit up in a hot white color, radiating its damnable light as he passed them by. "I was just about to have some fun with you!"
The stand's nerve-grating voice was far behind him, though Gamma Ray was beginning to catch speed. Léon booked it. His chest burned on the inside, inhaling and exhaling hot breath. The muscles in his waist began to tense and tighten. If he was going to pick a building to fight in, he had to make his choice promptly. Further up the street was a derelict building with planks of wood nailed over the windows and doors.
Usually there would be a few homeless people hanging around there, or teens getting their fix with some friends in the alleys, which the same could be said for any of the run-down areas in Skid Row. He ran down the alley and up to a window, pulling on one of the planks in hopes he could climb in. But the plank wouldn't budge. "Dammit! I'll have to try another one."
He circled around to the back, searching frantically for a window with fewer boards or broken glass. Something. Before deciding on any of them, he thought he'd try his luck on the door to the basement. Léon rattled the knob, yanking and pushing with all his might. Locked; deadbolted. Frustration surged through him like fire. He released it with a hard kick to the door's body, belting out a chesty roar. "Fuck this!"
The window at ground level it is. In that dark alleyway, near trash cans and littered garbage, there was a small pile of bricks. Some were broken in half, others full sized. He lifted up a whole brick and began to smash the window.
CRASH
Large fragments shattered. Shards sprinkled the floor on the inside. Léon stuck his head between the planks and the window pane to get a general idea on how difficult it was going to be squeezing his body through. He surmised that the only issue he'd have would be his lengthy shoulders, but whatever. He'd make it work somehow. Reaching one arm through the tall window, he started to climb inside. Holy shit, the floor's further down than I thought it'd be! With his free hand, he grabbed a hold of the plank on the outside and rolled onto his back, carefully sliding his hips over the concrete sill and into the building.
He pulled himself into a seated position, looking over his shoulder at the floor below. "Why do I feel like I'm not thinking this through properly…" Cautiously, he brought one leg through the opening, letting it dangle towards the concrete floor. "Okay, that's one…" then he lifted up the other. Now he was seated on the slab facing the interior. Léon felt his nerves ease off a little — just a little — confident that he wasn't going to fall face-first and break his neck after all. He leapt down onto the floor. A faint light glowed from the shattered window and into that dark room where he discerned a bunch of junk gathering dust along the walls and shelves. Paint cans, a breaker box, and long abandoned miscellaneous objects. Even trash.
Léon sighed. "As above, so below."
A musty odor lingered in the air. Standing in the dark, he could hear the muffled sounds of police sirens and cars going by on the surface. Surrounding him, dimly lit by the light from the window, he could tell one discernable fact about the basement. Its walls were concrete. All was eerily quiet. Did he lose Gamma Ray? Doubtful. Yet he wondered…
Don't tell me I broke into this place for nothing.
He was beginning to believe he really had, as there were no alarming sounds from the outside. For now, the danger had passed and he could formulate another plan. Or so he thought…
Léon's heart came to an abrupt stop. From the window behind him came that same annoying cackling he'd been hearing since the wreck took place. "What are you doing down there?!" Gamma Ray jeered. Its ebony eyes peered into the dark basement, sending Léon into full-on alert as he looked back. "Silly goose, don't you know there's light shining through this window?"
"What?!"
Again, the photons warped, growing in intensity. The invisible rays seared Léon's exposed — and already badly burned — arm, causing further damage to his skin tissue. Reacting without thinking, he back-stepped out of the rays and into the shadows, cursing under his breath. Damn, he got me. I can't believe I didn't think about the fact that I was still standing in the light. Well, that's fine. Because now we're playing by my rules.
"My, those are some nasty burns you got there!" Gamma Ray sailed through the basement window. "Mind if I have a look at them?"
Léon clutched his arm, taking a few more steps back and up a flight of concrete stairs. "Sure, why not? While you're at it, you can give these a once-over, too." With a curled lip, he raised both middle fingers unapologetically.
Gamma Ray chuffed. "Smug bastard, aren't you? Grr! I'm tired of this tomfoolery! DIE!" The rays from the window amplified, flooding the room in a blinding white light.
Léon shielded his hands over his eyes. "What the hell?!" Are you fucking kidding me?! This son of a bitch can alter how far the light travels?! Fair skin on his face, arms, and hands turned a damning red.
"Hehehehe! Die, die, die!" Trash slowly began to disintegrate as did other miscellaneous objects in the basement.
Seeing the damage the high levels of photon energy was causing created a seizing fear that glued Léon's feet to the stairs. "Holy fucking shit!" he shouted. From the tiniest dust particle, to the smallest splinter of wood, Gamma Ray's light waves dissolved his surroundings like paper combusting over candlelight.
"Ha! Foolish cretin, you really thought that by leading me into a so-called dark place, you'd gain the advantage against me? Need I remind you, that unless you travel deep underground, you can't escape the light! On the surface, the tiniest glint – the teeniest glimmer — is all I need to cook you alive. Remember what I told you about cause and effect? If I cause the light to burn your skin off, what's the result? Why… your death, of course!"
Léon clambered up the stairs and leaned back against the concrete wall. A beam in the shape of the doorway radiated blindingly past him. Singed flesh from Léon's arm trailed a thin stream of smoke from the wounds, the slightest hint of movement hurting him gravely as he hastened to gather his thoughts. Maybe come up with a better strategy. Or maybe not.
Is this it? Is this really how I'm going to die? Erased from existence? Noting the city lights entering the windows along the wall in front of him, he wouldn't doubt it. Léon's morale gradually dwindled at the mere thought of death looming over his head. Brushing his arm against the concrete wall behind him, however, corrupted those depressing thoughts and awakened a could-be solution within him. Of course. Why didn't he think of it before? Hold on a sec. This wall…the light isn't reaching me. Could that mean…? Ohh, I get it now! The atoms in solids, like concrete and lead, can't be penetrated by Ultraviolet rays. Same for Gamma radiation because the walls are too dense. That's why I'm unharmed. If only there was a way to...oh! There is. Léon smirked. "Je te tiens, sac a merde."
Humming tunelessly, Gamma Ray nonchalantly drifted out of the basement and up into the first floor. Concrete columns served as a shield for Léon as he hid behind one of them and steadied his quickened breath. This had to work. What he was planning had to work. Gamma Ray's humming grew quieter, then stopped. The feeling his eyes were scouring the room for him made Léon tense.
"I know you're in heeere." Cheerfulness waned into outrage as the stand floated further into the room. An indescribable substance coated the windows, blocking as much light as was possible from seeping in. Not a single ounce could be seen. "Wh-wha..? What is the meaning of this?! Eeeeugh! What is this thick, nasty gunk?!"
"That would be me, asshole." Where an arm should've been there was only a misshapened, clay stump. It was as though someone had torn Léon's arm away like tearing play-doh to pieces. "You want to talk cause and effect? Let's talk cause and effect! You made that car wreck, which I survived. You picked a fight with me; you pissed me the fuck off. Now, you tell me: what's the result of that?"
Gamma Ray withdrew against the wall, its tentacles raised in surrender. "W-wait, wait..! We can talk about this!"
Léon glared down at him with a fury as scalding as the gamma radiation he'd fallen subject to. "The answer's staring you dead in the face…I get to beat the shit out of you!" Rebel Yell's claws blurred in a rapid motion, hammering its fists and crying mourez repetitively. Brain matter ruptured, splattering the walls and floor. All that remained of Gamma Ray dissolved away into pure nothingness, leaving Léon behind to catch his breath amidst a calming silence. It was finally over.
Léon swallowed between breaths as the clay over the windows slid away from the glass and reformed his badly burned arm. Within 10 feet, Rebel Yell did as its user willed and scooped a nearby, empty plastic bottle off the floor, with a label reading: Company B Orange Soda. The stand altered its chemical compound into a clay that Léon smeared over the burns on his arm. For the time being, it would suffice until he could get some bandages. "That…" Léon said, weakly pointing where Gamma Ray was prior, with his newly sculpted fingers, "...is the least you deserve. As a result of that…I'm getting a drink."
