In Gods We Fear [OPEN]

The screen held on the man in the frumpled olive suit. His hazel eyes glared at the audience as he spoke, slamming a heavy fist on the table angrily as he spoke. “My name is Pierce Walker Morgan. My daughter was at ground zero when the attack happened.” Images of a girl in auburn pigtails and the same deep hazel eyes, though perhaps lacking the rage appeared on the screen that the news broadcast was playing on. “She was killed by these… these… monsters! Monsters that walk in human skin amongst us.” The screen showed the image of the “Hero” Dikaios and the villains that besieged London and Vegas. It changed to show the heroes that assisted as well, even the golden dragon that had resurrected 50% of the population. “They killed my child. Murdered my daughter and god knows how many more! Some say they killed over a million people. Others say that they killed multiple millions. But I know this. The vast majority were normal people just like you and me!” He screamed into the mic.

“How many more have to die before we stand up and fight back?!” He seethed, a vein pulsing on his forehead. “I say no more!” The crowd cheered for this, a roaring applause that shook the room. “I present to you, founder of Gen-X technology and CEO of Olympus-X, Argo Sinclair!”

A man in a much nicer suit walked out onto the stage, he shook hands and hugged the riled up man before he came to the stand. “We have suffered great loss. Not just those of us with family in London, in Boston, in Vegas, in New York, and in LA.” Each city appeared on screen as he spoke the name. Each one a city in ruins, some in worse repair than others. “My heart goes out to you if you lose those in these and other events,” His mannerisms were calm as he spoke, but his hand trembled with barely contained rage as more images passed across the screen. A single tear rolled down his cheek as he cleared his throat and glanced down at his papers. “But we are fighting a losing battle.” Someone in the crowd screamed out “Death to gene freaks!” And the crowd cheered again. Argo waited until they had calmed down for him to continue. “The future is passing us by. If we don’t adapt, we WILL die. That’s why as of today…”

The curtain fell away revealing a suit of red armor equipped with a weapon that could’ve come straight out of a science fiction television show. “I’m introducing Olympus-X’s Inquisitor Corp. These fancy guns I’ve given them adapt to the genetic code of their targets, allowing them to bypass and even shut down their meta genetics. The armor itself is standard Gen-X strength and speed boosting armor with flight capabilities, a meta sensing visor, and durability upgrades. These suits are only the first generation, with your help and funding, we can make these suits even more advanced. And if you elect me, Argo Sinclair for Congress, I promise you that humanity will never have to worry about these genetic monstrosities ever again!” The crowd roared approval, and the newscaster came back to end the segment.

The bar was a mess, as Pierce Walker Morgan, the Inquisitor, picked up the meta. Under his visor, he could see the fear in his eyes as he raised the weapon to the kids chest. “This is for Ramona, you meta punk.”

Genetic monstrosities...

This was Argo Sinclairs selling point for his run for congress, to fight the “monsters” people misunderstood.  

Mason watched it on a TV displayed in the front window of a shop as he ate his 12th waterdog from his favorite stand, swallowing them down with a can of monster.  

”Hey, there’s one of them metahumans there!!” A civilian called out.

Mason spun around, seeing a large man pointing at a young boy.  

The kid was only eight, nine years old, and looked like every other kid, save for the scales on his arms and legs, and yellow reptilian eyes. It was clear his meta genes cause a physical transformation, as he looked from the man, to his mother, and then to Mason, his eyes wide with fear.  

This wasn’t his first time.  

Suddenly, a brick was airborne, as the man had decided to take matters into his own hands.

Everything came to a near stop, as Mason moved, running into an alleyway, where he would take off his civilian clothes, revealing his Speedrun suit underneath. He hid his clothes, pulled on his cowl, and returned to the scene.  

The brick got most of the way to the kid, before something rushed by, and the brick vanished.  

“What is wrong with you!?” Speedrun appeared in front of the man, holding the brick up. “You could have killed him!”  

”He’s a filthy meta, just like you!” The guy poked Speedrun in the chest hard with his index finger, getting his face.  

“Because he’s a meta gives you the right to assault him?” Speedrun pushed his hand away, tossing the brick away. “He’s just a kid.”

“I don’t care if he was a baby, only good metas are dead ones!”

”You metas need to be rounded up, before one of you destroys another city!”

Now others were joining in, and a crowd was forming.  

Speedrun looked back to the kid as he screamed, seeing his mother fall to the ground, blood dripping from a nasty wound on her head. He looked to where he tossed the brick, and saw it was no longer there, but in one of the other civilians hands.  

He had struck the woman with the brick, and was pulling back, getting ready to strike the kid.  

Speedrun moved, grabbing the kid, and his mother, running them to the hospital. “I need help, she was struck in the head and isn’t responding!”  

”Oh my god, what happened?” A nurse rushed to them with a bed to lay the woman on.  

“Anti-meta crowd, saw her son and got violent, she got caught in the fight.”  

”Oh dear, she’s not the only one, ever since Sinclair made his speech, we’ve been getting more and more people coming in with injuries, it’s hell out there for metas and non-metas alike.”  

“Well, looks like I got a lot of work to do then.” Speedrun looked back to the entrance, seeing more people piling in. “Ignorance makes it hard to discern the innocent from the guilty, and births hatred for both.”  

The Bar  

As the kid closed his eyes, waiting for the final moment, a voice spoke up.  

“Drop the kid.” The voice sounded like it was speaking through a modulator, but it’s anger couldn’t be hidden. In the entrance of the bar, a figure stood, a pistol trained on the Inquisitor.  

Warden stepped into the bar, closer to the man, as he pulled out his other pistol. “I don’t like to repeat myself.”

Ricochet found himself on the streets of Manhattan. He had been patrolling when the broadcast happened. He had been noticing the tensions rising on the ground for weeks but today it seemed particularly bad. There were actual riots now. He didn’t know how to handle this except to step in where he could.

A young woman with bright green skin and horns was doing her best to fight off a group of rioters so he ran up. The woman was surprisingly tall and muscular. He was almost certain that if she wasn’t being dogpiled, she could handle herself no problem. Her eyes blazed with emerald fire as she grabbed one of them and threw them off of her. ”Haven’t you ever heard of attacking someone your own size?” He said to the marauding crowd.

“You metahumans are all the same!” One of the members of the mob said. ”Creations of Satan to take us to hell with you! Just look at the girl!” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Some of these people were actually using religion to prosecute them? [color:d139=FF69B4]”Do you really think God would want you to attack an innocent person like this?” Trying to appeal to them, and their humanity even a little. But the crowd was frenzied. ”Exodus 22:18 ‘Thou Shalt Not Suffer a Witch to Live! You are the children of Cain, somehow survived the flood. We shall strike you down in His holy name!”

An object was thrown at him. His protective field prevented from harming him but it was still alarming. He looked down to see what it was. ”A Bible?!” He almost screamed. He was trying to stay calm, but he was quickly losing his patience. He took a deep breath. If he wanted to end this peacefully, he had to reason with them. And that meant attempting to see things from their perspective. ”I know you’re scared. I’m scared too. Can we please calm down and go back to our day?”

A shot rang out. The crowd panicked. The girl with the demonic appearance stared down. Her school uniform was stained with bright red blood. Everything seemed to slow for Ricochet as she fell and he saw the woman wearing black and red power armor with the rifle. ”I think it’s time you shut up, metahuman scum.” Suddenly, the hero rocketed forward. Taking her down and with him. They bounced off of a building, and he began to build speed. ”You killed her!” He screamed at her as the gun fell from her hands, lost on the streets. Her helmet cracked as they hit another wall. ”She was just trying to live her life, and you murdered her!” She just grinned at him, under the hood and helmet. ”And I won because of it.” The jets on her heels activated and she slipped from Ricochets grasp. She shot off like a bullet to some unknown destination. As Ricochet landed next to the girl, he saw her breathing shallowly. ”Shes alive! Someone help me get her to a hospital!” The crowd didn’t move. Some looked frightened, some looked angry. And it was all directed… at him.


Morgan grinned as the hero entered. ”Was wondering when one of you would show yourself.” He dropped the kid like a sack of potatoes. As he landed, he crumpled. Alive, but not conscious. ”You here to stop me, or are you here to join me? Scanners aren’t picking up an active metagene, so unless you’re a traitor…” He lifted his rifle to match the vigilante’s aggression with his own.

”I’ll be killing the freak one or the other. It’s up to you to decide if your joining him in the grave.” There was an almost… hollow nature to his voice. It was angry, hateful, and dangerous but there was nothing else. No sadness, no pleasure, no pain. Just rage. Untempered and undirected. A voice of malice.

Zeph sat on a rooftop, using a small breeze and rain shower to wash traces of pepper spray. People from other places were usually so civil with him, yet today he got sprayed fresh off of stopping a robbery. By all accounts, it made no sense to him, but since it was the first time, he decided to just let it slide.

"What the heck is up with the people here?"

He continued to scrub and massage his scalp, impatient to get the chemicals out of his locs. This was why he kept his hood up during patrol, to avoid these types of scenarios. He eyed a nearby bar, hoping to get a rest. Maybe some good food and some bad laughs would lift his mood some. He leaped down from the rooftop, slid down the wall and rolled to a stop outside the establishment. Upon throwing open the bar door... He's met with the sight of a man holding a gun to a kid's chest, eyes blazing in anger.

"Hey, back off!"

Zeph, using a gust of wind and a good arm, directed his scarf to grab the gun and rip it out of the man's hands. He raised the weapon, charging lightning around his leg... Then swiftly broke the gun over his knee, tossing the pieces to the side.

"Trying to kill a child?! What gives!"

Speedrun

When the speedster arrived on the scene, his eyes fell on the young woman, covered in her own blood, unconscious, but still breathing, as someone was kneeling beside her, asking for help.  

“I got you...” He was suddenly beside the other hero, picking the woman up. “Be right back.” He was suddenly gone, as he raced towards the hospital. His muscles were starting to burn, as he had been running all over the city, saving as many metas as he could.  

But the tension was only rising, as now central park had now turned into a battleground, as humans were dragging Metas out, where these new “Inquisitors” were waiting, preparing for what Speedrun could only assume was a mass execution.  

He pushed the pain aside, as he kept running, he couldn’t stop, not now, too much was on the line.  

Warden  

“Traitor...?” Wardens grip tightened on the pistol as he snarled out the word, even the modulator failing to hide his disgust. “I’m not the one about to kill an innocent kid just because he’s different!”  

As a new figure arrived, and went for the disarm, Warden took the opportunity to rush forward, firing three energy rounds from his pistol, aimed for the mans center mass. He had the pistol dialed to compensate for the armor, but not kill.  

Once he closed the distance, he brought one of his feet up, going to drive the Inquisitor into the nearby wall with a spartan kick.