A New World

The world began to shake. Why was it shaking? Why couldn't he see? Panicked, Sam began to choke on the dust and the dirt from beneath the ground where he lay buried. The cave-in! He could now remember the darkness as the walls began to crumble around him. The suffocating feeling as the dust filled his lungs and cut off his oxygen. The rumble of the earth continued around him as the flashbacks continued, quickly passing by his eyes. The last thing he remembered was throwing Jim out of the cave. Jim! That's right! He must have gotten away safely and this is him now coming to rescue him. Struggling to move his body, he brought his hands to his face to find something rather surprising - a fairly long beard. One that he had definitely not had when he got trapped.

What was going on? How long has he been trapped in here? Too many thoughts to piece together, still more memories flooding into view. He had said goodbye to his wife and children that morning. It was supposed to be the same as any other day. Work the cave and get that much closer to their fortune. He kissed his family, met Jim at the creek and that was the last of it as the world turned black.

Sunlight began to shine through the rocks, and suddenly he could breathe again. Gasping for air, he coughed and called out. His muffled voice went unheard, as machinery above continued to tear at the ground. The jerking of the earth around him, caused rocks to dislodge fro, their position and begin crushing his body. Screaming out, Sam attempted everything he possibly could to get free. He wiggled, he clawed, he jerked all around him. Then, in a moment the sunlight went away and he was....moving? It felt as though he was being jerked through the air, but still underground.

Several seconds later, Sam emerged above the ground for the first time in centuries, though not that he would know. It took him far too long to adjust to the sunlight, painfully blinding him for at least ten minutes. When he finally came to his senses and took a good look around, it was as if he was on another planet. Strange machine on long stretches of concrete came screaming by the grass he found himself on. Stumbling to find his footing, it was as if his legs were non-existent from the numbness. It was all too much too fast, and Sam dropped to his knees as he made his way to the concrete ground. The machines roared out a warning as they passed him, but he couldn't discern what it meant. The only thing he was sure of, was that they weren't safe.

It proved his point when he could see one darting right for him. A head on collision would kill him in an instant at these speeds, and he knew that. He couldn't say why he brought his arms up in front of him, as if that would save him, but they did just that. They saved him. As he raised them, the ground beneath his feet rumbled the same way that it had when he was trapped. Instead of him leaving it however, the earth shattered and ripped upwards to form a wall in front of him, shielding him from the oncoming traffic. The car smashed into the barricade with an ear splitting sound. Metal and glass breaking and flying in every which way around him. "What the hell?" Those were the only words that Sam could think to say in that moment.

He needed to get out of there and find somewhere safe, wherever that may be. He ran as best as his legs would carry him, down the streets of this crowded town. Buildings all crushed against one another in a way that reminded him of being in that cave. So many people, so many constructs. "What is this place? Where am I?" He spoke aloud to himself, which drew glances from passerby's  that looked at him with curiosity. They dressed so strangely, but were looking at him as if he were the strange one.

Luckily as a child, Sam had learned to read so when he found a building with the words "The Horseshoe" above the door, he got a sense of familiarity. He entered the darkened den, full of smoke and loud music and patrons and made his way to a corner of the room and to a booth that was somewhat hidden from view. He sat and tried to collect himself. He was afraid and confused, which became worse when he looked into an empty glass that was left on the table. He wasn't himself. He was older, gray hair adorning his face on the newly formed beard. "Lord help me. I know I don't ask for you all the time, but please help me. I don't understand." Sam stayed seated, as tears began to fall down his cheeks.

Nathaniel Hunter King was a simple man with simple tastes. He enjoyed your normal everyday things such as eating, watching sports, getting into fights, the pure happiness people express when you help them, hanging out at bars, rescuing people from dire situations, jogging, and flying. What he didn’t enjoy was rain. Oh, sure, the whole kiss in the rain thing was certainly romantic and he could see the appeal to it. If you didn’t have wings. Wings and rain did not mix no matter the size of the being with them. Everyone knew about bee’s and rain, and it was obvious birds didn’t enjoy getting theirs wet either (unless said bird was a duck). So, it should come as no surprise that he did not enjoy getting his wings wet. They were so hard to dry off, and it was like dragging around an extra body on his back. Or a rucksack. He didn’t know how soldiers did it.

So, why was he flying in the rain? It wasn’t by choice that was for sure. No, he was following a lead on drug smugglers. No, human trafficking? No, that wasn’t it, illegal weapons shipment? Shit. No, it was definitely drug smugglers. That was why he was in Georgia. They were coming in from Cuba into Florida and then flew to Georgia where they were going to drive the stuff off in separate cars. He was certain that was it. The only problem was he’d have to find their plane and then follow them as they got off it and into their vehicles so he could somehow follow both vehicles to their destinations to stop the spread of the drugs. Surprisingly he had actually been able to locate the plane but after that things got tricky. It was insanely hard to follow somehow in the world’s busiest airport. Hartsfield–Jackson Atlanta International Airport did not have that title just for show.

Whether it was through sheer luck or some innate tracking ability that he definitely didn’t have the being known as Archangel was able to locate the men and follow them as they got into one vehicle. Which was better than neither of them. However, his luck would run out there. That was when the rain started. That was when Georgia’s infamous bipolar weather decided to rear its head. A nice sunny day turned into a depressing dreary stormy day. Such as it was it became increasingly hard to track the van and continue flying at a pace high enough that he wasn’t seen by anyone but at the same time being low enough that he could see his target. One wrong turn and a strong gust of wind knocking a paper into his face would of course knock the angel of death off target and back to square one.

Looping up higher into the air before turning off and out towards the city and away from the interstate he would come down to land on a building where he waited out the rain in defeat. After an hour wait sulking atop his rooftop perch and the sunlight shone through parting the clouds once more. Stretching his wings out to help them dry his eyes rested upon the scene below him. A curious one that made him momentarily forget all about his failure. A man rose up out of the ground below looking as if he had been pulled straight out of an Old West film. Things only got stranger from there though. Seemingly dazed and confused the man walked out into the middle of the road where he was almost ran over by a car before the earth itself shot up before him and made a wall that the vehicle crashed into and protected the guy. Before he ran off probably as fast as his legs could carry him.

Of course, he ran. They always ran. A drunk murderer with geokinetic powers. Seemingly. Flapping his wings twice to shake out any water that still remained before rocketing down to the car and ripping of the busted and dented in side. The person inside was dead, there was no getting around that. The front of the car was a pancake and there was essentially no back and hardly a middle anymore. Still, he made his way to the male (maybe?) in the driver’s seat and laid the broken body on the ground for someone to do something with before he took to the air again and scanned the area for the runner. Thanks to his enhanced vision he eventually spotted him and took off after the guy just as he pushed his way into a building.

Landing down next to the bar Archangel ran a hand through his hair muttering under his breath about forgetting to bring an extra set of clothes or at least his trench coat as his wings folded down behind him. Making his way into the themed bar he immediately drew attention from the patrons before they of course went about their ‘business’. For the most part. Meta-Humans had become an accepted sight these days but even then Thanatos was not your average looking Meta-Human. Thanks to his childhood he was still fairly good at disappearing, especially in crowded places, and was able to make his way unprotested to the booth that the assumed drunk was sitting at just as he started his prayer. Receiving a slight chuckle from Thanatos. “If he replies let me know. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten a response from the man upstairs.”