An unstoppable force and an immovable object

The vacant parking structure Cebra was in smelled. That was the reoccurring thought Cebra had as he walked further up. Cebra had a unique or perhaps sinister ability to put the thought of what he was doing out of his direct thoughts. the suitcase he carried was well secured with a lock on it, Cebra never the less had a tight grip on it. He reached the top of the structure and took a wide look over the area while reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a pack of cigarettes quickly taking one out with his lips, he lights it by focusing energy into his index finger and making sparks. He takes a drag from the lit cig and puts the suitcase down kneeling beside it. He opens it up to reveal a high powered sniper rifle disassembled into parts.

Cebra begins to assemble the weapon, a calm yet focused look on his face. Clearly he means business, someone was going to die today, somebody important likely. It was noon now, a crowd was gathered near a stage at city hall. There was security all over in black suits but also in plain clothes throughout the crowd. Not far away from the crowd was another crowd carrying signs and protesting. They were kept at a distance by police as to not disturb the crowd gathered to attend the speech. The Senator Vincent Marxon was to give a speech soon addressing the plight of the numerous homeless coming to the city. Vincent was a proponent of riding the city of them via prison, kicking them out of anywhere they go and de-funding shelters.

Cebra however knew far more than the general public or journalists did about the senators activities. For instance he knew despite the fact he had a wife and child the senator was involved directly in human trafficking. He had been receiving payments from the Harlos cartel as well as screwing the female slaves that were imported like things to own. All this alone was enough to earn the ire of Cebra but there was something else, something that made Cebra's veins fill with venom and hatred. The Senator was in the pocket of Orion giving them whatever they pleased and was in his power. Cebra had his mind made up and steeled, The Senator would die by his hand today.

The rifle was set up and Cebra was in place looking down the scope. He watched the crowd and the door to city hall waiting for the moment.

Should be starting soon... Viktor thought.

The agent known by the codename 'Recluse' crept silently along the side of a nearby highrise, looking down at the gathering of politicians and supporters below him. His visors chittered solftly as they adjusted the magnification of his vision to see the senator up close. Senator Marxon... Vincent Marxon. Suspected of human traficking, larceny, grand larceny, murder, conspiracy to murder, and sexual assault.

Suspected, in short, to be the scum of the Earth.

Recluse's mission was simple: Observe... Gather evidence... Catch him in the act, if possible... And take him to prison after due process... But for Recluse, one thing was certain... If he did catch him in the act doing half of the things he'd heard of...

... There would be no due process.

The doors to the hall swung open as the crowd gave a loud cheer, Senator Vincent Marxon emerged smiling and waving to his supporters. Cebra took a moment to really savor what he was about to do, there was no mercy nor hesitation in his mind. Cebra would be the brutal sword of justice and cut down this filthy two faced bastard, in doing so also strike a blow at Orion and the Harlos cartel. Cebra put his face back to the scope looking down at the crowd waiting to get a nice clean shot. The Senators security were in the way however looking over the crowd. It wasn't his goal to harm anyone else even if they worked for that monster, everyone needs a job and money in this world. He waited a few moments until the security took positions beside the senator while he gave a speech. Finally the moment had come.

"Your sentence... is death."

Cebra fired a round off hitting the Senator right through the skull exploding his brain out of the back in a shower of blood and bone fragments. The round went through without any collateral damage burying itself in the wooden stage. The crowd went into a frenzied panic screaming and running as security scrambled to the senators body then scanning the buildings around. Cebra had done what he came to do and now it was time to make an escape as if evading humans was a difficult task. He first used his Saxon energy to melt and destroy the rifle as well as the case. He proceeded down the parking stricture calmly assured no one had seen him... hopefully.

Recluse's eyes widened beneath the mask as he swiftly switched to analytic mode, tracing the trajectory of the bullet to a specific rooftop.

He zoomed in to find a man holding a gun that was very quickly becoming less than a gun. He was eliminating the murder weapon through some unknown means.

Well, possible murder weapon... Recluse still wasn't entirely certain that he didn't deserve to be laying in a pool of his own blood, as he now was.

Shooting out some of his dark webbing to pull himself to this new target's location, and switching to thermal, Recluse confirmed that there was some kind of unidentified energy field at play here; not only did the gun glow brightly, but the man himself lit up like a veritable Christmas tree.

Merry Christmas, Senator... He thought.

The man dropped out of view and Recluse gritted his teeth, switching now to hyperviolet (x-ray) vision, keeping his eyes trained on the man. He didn't appear to be cybernetically augmented, just denser than normal.

So, his abilities must be genetic... Recluse mused.

When he pulled himself into the side of the building, he reeled in the black silk as swiftly as possible and stuck it to his back, where his arachnanites would finish recycling the material into his hexane protein tanks.

He then crawled along the side of the building, scurrying swiftly as his namesake whilst keeping his eyes trained on the senator's assassin.

Or his judge... He thought...

Cebra reached the black Harley motorcycle he had arrived in, he sat down on it stopping a few moments to think. The dirty jobs he did were usually not a point of pride but necessity. This one however gave Cebra a sense of righteousness, he'd actually wished he could have kidnapped the senator. Cebra was not a man with a weak stomach, he'd love to have tortured the bastard before executing him. But alas the deed was done and now it would be time to hit the Harlos cartel, but that wouldn't be for a while. This would also cripple Orions ability to bring in human bodies for their experiments in this region.

Cebra revved the bike looking out to the exit, home felt like a good idea right now. A nice stiff drink and maybe some horror flicks to relax to. Despite the fact he was use to this sort of thing it still affected him to take life. Everyone needs an outlet.

Recluse scurried down the wall swiftly, keeping up with the man as he went down, and keeping track of his movements through his infrared vision mode.

As he crawled along the wall as quickly as he could go, he rotated around the building to the other side, finding a black Harley Davidson motorcycle waiting for the man as he exited the building.

Recluse stayed out of sight, but fired a tiny bit of dark webbing onto the back of the motorcycle just as it was revved to mask the already quiet sound made by the impact of the tiny synthetic silk threads. He did this just in case so that, if for whatever reason he found that he couldn't keep up with it, the arachnanites in the webbing he would be able to track.

After that, he watched the tiny cell-tower generated minimap of the city and watched the tracking monitor, staying back from the man so as to remain out of sight.

Down the highway Cebra flew shedding every care in the world for the moment. Now that any degree of danger had passed and he could think normally he wondered why the security was so lax. For a connected man one might think that there would be additional measures. Not so much a major concern as a passing thought of Cebra's as he zipped pass one car after another getting closer to his home. Well it was not so much a home as a base or safe house, a place Cebra could go after a day of hardship and recover. He was never completely comfortable but it was better than the couches he used to stay on with people he barely new.

Pulling up to the garage on the Apartment complex Cebra used his electronic key to open the door and enter. He parked his bike and took the elevator up to the top floor where the Penthouses were. He slid his other key in the lock and opened the door tossing his jacket on the chair near the door and collapsing on the couch.

"... Another day another body. Where did I leave my scotch?"

Recluse swung along as quickly as possible, keeping up with the man if only due to the traffic.

At length, the man entered what Recluse assumed must be the man's safe house or base of operations, that is, until he utilized his visor's ultraviolet viewing function. Now, as he could see through the walls to the contents of the room, he surmised that it was less so a base or safe house, and was instead more so a home or penthouse, though he couldn't be sure.

He waited for the man to seem more occupied before making a move.

Cebra gets up after a minute of brooding and blood drenched thoughts, quickly recalling that he had left his liquor in the desk drawer by his computer. The desk drawer slid open with a bit of a squeak showing the bottle with the golden amber liquid. He grabbed it tight and considered getting a glass but a moment later simply drank from the bottle, not like anyone was watching him. He let out a deep sigh before sitting down in the chair before the desk and checking the news. The evening news crew was already on the scene reporting the assassination that had taken place. There was mention of possible terrorist and criminal syndicates being responsible, a smirk came over Cebra's face.

Cebra played a live feed of the event observing the people crying and enraged over the event. Once again reminding him of what pathetic things people were, not that their anger truly phased Cebra. He raised his bottle to the screen in the manner one might give a toast.

"To your health Mr. Marxon! Hmhm haha! You old, vile, corrupt bastard... I hope the worms that eat you throw up your corpse."

For a moment Cebra revels in Marxon's death, soon after remembering his task isn't done. There was still yet more blood to spill and no one would do it besides Cebra. The war was far from over much less the current battle.

As Agent Wolfe considered ways to enter the house, the man got up, apparently not yet ready to end the day's events with some relaxation or recreation, such as watching TV or Netflix.

Great... What else could you possibly want to do tonight? He thought.

He tried to be angry with the man, but honestly, he couldn't blame him for wanting to take down the man that he did. That said, Agent Wolfe himself was more of a planner. He tended to lie in wait and observe for a good while before deciding on a course of action.

Weaving the web, so to speak.

For him, it was uncertain whether the man he had meant to kill was, in fact, dead. Perhaps some lowly decoy had been murdered in his stead. Now, THAT would be something to get upset about... At least perhaps.

Recluse cursed himself for forgetting to apply his facial recognition software on the supposed senator before his untimely death.

There wasn't much of a face left for that anymore, and by now it didn't matter much either way.

Still, the web for this man was yet to be woven, and he would have little to do but watch him for the time being. Analyzing what kind of man he was... Searching for routines, addictions... Weaknesses, really.

After all, the man did need to sleep eventually... Right?

As the hours ran on Cebra knew he had been awake for sixty nine hours. Though he didn't require as much sleep as the average person he still needed it. I guess that was the reason his eyelids felt heavy. Cebra laid down on his couch looking at the television that wasn't even on. His thoughts drifted to one subject after another as his eyes shut close. A few minutes later he was out like a light yet somehow the bottle was still firmly in his grasp. The lights automatically shut down after a few minutes of inactivity.

Viktor had fallen asleep once or twice during the first 24 hours, and still the hours dragged on... Thus, he decided that he would head home to his hotel room, paid for by the government as it was, he figured that he might as well sleep comfortably whilst waiting for something unusual to occur with the sleepless assassin. He had also informed ECLIPSE of the man's flat and what he had done.

Eventually, much later, he was on patrol elsewhere in the city when he received an alert from his arachnanites that he had set up to surveil the area around the man's house.

He was asleep.
FINALLY Recluse thought, as he began to make his way over to the building once more.

It took him around 17 minutes to get back to the flat, and so, long before he got there, he began to plan his entry. He figured that he'd attempt an entry using the back door, utilizing his arachnanites to repurpose the lock and thereby unlock the door itself...

That said, the lights in his flat were automatic... This was a problem... So first, he decided that he would send his arachnanites into the breaker first to shut off the electricity.

He looked around for a back up generator, realizing that the man would likely have one as well... If he did see one, he would send his arachnanites to shut it down as well.

Given their size, this process would take a LONG time, so even after he'd arrive at the flat, they would likely still be working on this plan of his.

Let's hope things go smoothly... For once... He thought.

Cebra rolled around in his sleep, it was a common thing for his rest to be restless. His cybernetic aspects did not help him with his nightmare issues. He muttered in his sleep things from the past, what fractured memories he has from the Orion lab he was created in. The bottle he had within his firm grip suddenly falls to the floor spilling out all over. Cebra shakes a bit becoming semi-conscious.

"Huzah?! Where?... Command protocol... R seven... But that's murd..."

Cebra falls back asleep.

Agent Wolfe tensed at the man's apparent continued restlessness, but continued to have his Arachnanites work at the generator and power, until at last they were disconnected and the front lock repurposed.

When this was finally complete, he began to creep his way inside, wary of anything beneath the floors and the like as he could see through them with his ultraviolet viewing mode.

As he made his way along the ceiling of the building searching for any evidence of who this man was or who could have hired him. Ties to anything in particular that could lead him to uncover conclusively why it was that he had chosen to kill the Senator, or at least his look alike.

As long as the man didn't wake up... He'd be fine...

In theory.

Out of th blue Cebra sits up straight, his hair covering his face. He sits up still for a few moments still as a statue. He makes a deep sigh before stretching a bit and cracking some bones. When he raised his head the look on his face was durastically different, a deadly focus had come over him. His focus and his gaze were fixed on the window, something alerted him on a subconcience or cybernetic conscience level. If Cyco had taken notice of something then it was likely something about that window was wrong. Cebra stands up and walks over to the window still unaware that there was anyone within his apartment. Upon a close examination of the window Cebra see's a little bit of dirt in the partial shape of a foot. Cebra touches the toaster on the table next to him and melts it down turning it into an SMG.

"You know breaking and entering isn't a skill I'm reluctant to use myself... But you broke into the wrong apartment buddy! Now why dont you show yourself? And fix my generator while you're at it."

Cebra's eyes flash and then glow red as he looks around his apartment.