Die Welt gehört dir (open)

The robot was maintaining a consistent fighting ability, being a machine and needing no sleep probably made that a lot easier. Archer was having a hard time keeping up after dodging attack after attack and he was starting to get tired. A fist flew for his head and he was barely able to get out of the way in time, allowing another fist to hit another wall, splintering another wall. Archer knew that things were going to get messy if the fight were to carry on for much longer. Archer then rolled underneath the automaton to try and get out of his direct line of sight and the robot tried and failed to stomp on him with a heavy metal foot.

The robot suddenly stopped and slouched, powering down right before Archer’s eyes, just as the building the two heroes stood in gave a loud groan. Archer gave the big metal behemoth a nudge and it fell to a large heap on the floor. Archer walked over to Bliss and gave her a tired, though still genuine, smile as he said, “Hey, nice job. I didn’t even have time to die once.” He gave her a thumbs up as he bent over and tried to breath deeper. After taking a moment to catch his breath he looked up at her and gave her another smile, this one less tired than before, “What do you say we find our way out of this madhouse?”

A ceiling tile fell from above and landed just to their left, Archer looked up to the ceiling and then back to Bliss and said, “I hope that doesn’t mean anything bad is about to happen.“ Above them a series of support beams broke in two and walls began to fall to the floor. The building was coming down around them. Archer ran over to the door and looked back at Bliss, “Maybe it’s time we got out of here.”

A burden laid in a huddle mass on the floor. The pressing issue of escape now seemed like a possibility. As Bliss turned to speak about the departure they should take, the ceiling began to usher them along in haste. "Over here." Bliss remembered the path that the Baroness' men lead her in through. Debris rained down on the scaffolding breaking apart the meager staircases with the massive weight of concrete supremacy. Dust began building up in forceful clouds that sprang towards the duo, bringing more expedience to their escape.

Bliss shot through the laboratory floor and into the hallway. Her rushed speed sought to outrun the dust that encompassed the collapsing laboratory. All traces of the machinery lay in ruins to stiffen the plans Bliss wished to unleash, but the escape from the facility with her life would work as a suitable prize. Two doors that looked capable enough of stopping the girl from departing barred her escape. From the look of the design the corporation used a scanner that would read a certain frequency put out by a vehicle leaving.

Getting through this checkpoint would pose no threat to Bliss if she could hack the computer, but with no interface that would option fell away. Against the shrieks and crashes of the background, Bliss started to press her force against the sensor. This process took a delicate touch; she needed just enough force to register the frequency, but not enough to where she would shatter the device. When the frequency registered with the reader Bliss could hear a slight humming within the device. With enough of a fine tuning Bliss could continue to press with the force until she garnered just the right blast to push through.

Locks pushed back and the doors began their slow ascension into ceiling. Light shined in through the dust that cluttered into the corners of the garage. Bliss stepped out into the back of an extended alleyway. Chain linked fences guarded either side of the alleyway with barbed wire along the top. A little Spartan for a multimillion dollar corporation but no one argues with success. A machine shop for the land fleet of limousines and SUVs stood before her with a small detachment of unarmed mechanics. Freedom and gratification stood a few hundred meters from Bliss.

Archer followed Bliss as closely as he could, snaking his way through the building as it crumbled around them. It was obvious that the building was soon to come down around them, ceiling fans and lights were falling from their places on high. Everything was going well enough until the pair came to a pair of colossal doors, attached to a computer type thing, Roland was not great with the things at any rate. “Looks like we’re going to need to find another way out,” he said loud enough, or so he thought as the woman, Bliss, moved to the door and placed her hand on the contraption. After only a moment the doors opened and with them the two finally exited the monolithic building that had been their prison and torture chamber.

Looking around, Archer saw a long line of black vans with tented windows, much like the one that had brought them to this evil place, to the side of the vans was a mechanics shop but everyone there was leaving as fast as they could, trying to escape the falling building just like them. “I’ll drive,” Roland said to his companion. Running to the van closest to them, Roland opened the door and jumped inside, once there he quickly looked for the keys to the van. Finding nothing that would start the vehicle, he slid down in his seat and yanked the covering from the underbelly of the dashboard and quickly started pulling out wires. He wasn’t great with computers or really anything like that but Archer had always been good with his hands, things like cars or anything of the sort had always been something that came to him naturally.

Once the van roared to life he looked at Bliss with another of his well-meaning smiles, which he hoped would make her more comfortable for what he was about to say, “You might want to buckle up. I’ve crashed more cars then is probably recommended.” Driving was another of Archer’s weaknesses and he knew it but right now all he needed to do was get them away from the building, which could not be that hard. Spinning the tires out, they launched forward as soon as the wheels were able to gain traction. The van sped up quickly and Archer aimed it for the gates of the heavy fence in front of them, ramming through them as fast as he could. “I’m glad that worked. I read an article saying doing that was next to suicide,” He quickly glanced over at the woman next to him but then fixed his eyes back on the road, “I figured it was our best bet. As long as no one is chasing us I should be fine.”

Once he said it he knew they were jinxed, another van came through the gates that they had plowed through and was quickly gaining on them. “Oh crap, I’ve got to keep my mouth shut next time,” He yelled to no one in particular. “Do you think there’s anything you can do to get them off our tail?” He asked Bliss, just as a series of bullets pelted across the back of the van. Archer was desperate for a miracle, hopefully the two had not spent their last one taking down the psycho lady from before.

Not wanting to hold up on the escape plan that looked very promising, Bliss caught up with Archer as he made his way into a van. The luxury afforded to this company allowed them to possess some top of the line commodities and they spared no expense even in vans. With her seat belt sliding into place Bliss felt the van move with a sudden force that brought her chest against the belt. Momentum sent her back into the suede seat holding her tight.

"The sooner we're out of here the better. The good thing with that group is that they can't go public with our visas and other documents without admitting they..." Glass shattered as bullets ricocheted into the metal covering of the van. While Archer needed to keep focused on the road, Bliss knew her time to act came. "Yeah, I'll try to put something together." Bliss slid down in her seat and began to crawl back into the passenger rows in the back. Bullets continued to riddle the vehicle during their pursuit. The easiest thing to do would knock out their window, but she needed to some cover to keep herself from the volley of bullets that came from the gun fire.

Light shined down from the ceiling illuminating several bullet holes. Bliss started to take count on how many she could see to give her an estimate as to when they would need to reload. The size and make of the guns escaped her thought; she could only guess that a gun with the capability of fire would send off thirty or forty rounds. Shots from the gun tore through the blasted out windows in synchronized rounds. Far too many of the rounds came from it to originate with merely one gun. Throwing away any methodology of counting the bullets left when a bullet flew right by her head and impacted into the metal seat leg a few feet from her.

When a lull came in the midst of the firing Bliss would move into action to open the back door just enough so that the momentum of the vehicle would spring the door ajar allowing her to send out enough power to break the glass of the windshield. As the vehicle swerved just enough to give Bliss the momentum to throw her legs from under the seat and into the back of the door, Bliss prepared to press a blast against the door. Energy shot out against the door, but the fierceness of the attack sent the door off of the hinges. Crashing through the windshield, the pursuing car slid ninety degrees and impacted violently against the alley adjacent side of a building, sending the destroyed vehicle back into the street with no general directing force.

Broken metal caught against Bliss arm as she tumbled towards the open end of the van. Her efforts diverted the assailants, but left her in a precarious situation. Gripping onto the dislodged hinges of the back door, Bliss struggled to pull herself back into the van. The dangerous swerving of the vehicle wrested control from her hands. Momentum stole the footing that she gained against the bumper of the van, sending her knees into the hard bottom of the van. "Pull hard to the left!" Bliss exclaimed to the driver, hoping to shift her momentum using the force of the van.

Bullets continued to zip past Archer as he swerved through the roads, veering around the few cars that were in the road. A single bullet managed to hit the photographer in the back, penetrating into his stomach, releasing acids into the rest of his body. Archer gritted his teeth, the pain was intense but he pushed through it, keeping his hands on the wheel of the van, and managed not to let the vehicle collide with any of the other motorist. To Archer pain was almost part of everyday living, trying to die was just something he did, no matter what he tried to do it would never stop. Living was its own pain but helping people eased for a little while, he had to help this woman.

Archer saw the van swerve and hit a building in his rearview mirror and he then heard Bliss scream at him to turn to the right. Grabbing the emergency break and pulling it up hard while spinning the driving wheel as hard as he could, he made the van almost do 180 degrees while getting two of the wheels off the ground. As the air born wheels made contact with the ground Archer made his way to the back of the van from the outside to make sure Bliss was alright. It did not take long or many brain cells to see that she was fine and with that established the photographer ran over the other vehicle, its driver had not been so lucky and neither had the man standing out of the window while he tried to shoot them.

“I hate that that had to happen but we need to get moving,” Archer said with only slightly shaky words. Looking around he saw the familiar staircase that led to the subway and he began his fast pace to the entrance, making sure that Bliss was somewhere behind him. He used what little money he had left to get the two of them through the turnstile and onto the quickest route back to the airport. “I’ll be happy when I’m two miles off the ground on my way back home,” Archer said to Bliss as he fell into one of the open benches on the subway cart. He gave another of his warm smiles to Bliss as he continued, “I saw that that lady roughed you up something fierce. Are you okay?” He was not sure what he could do for the woman if anything but he just wanted to be sure she was alright.

For a brief moment in time, as the van spun vigorously, Bliss could feel the existential motion confirm her as the center of the universe. Mechanical interference to her delusion slammed her into the side of the van, saving her from the fate of falling out of a speeding van, but not quite whisking her away magically. In the distant outside, metal collided with asphalt to generate a ever so compelling case as to why the trouble behind them may have vanished from their concerns.

The blow to her head made the world hazy, and the piercing sound ringing through her head drained her of any desire to hold a conversation about the recent transgressions levied against her. The form of a man darted back to her, and the next thing Bliss knew she experienced some running and some change of scenery. As the noise subsided, the words sank in. He would be happier two miles in the air? Her head felt like it was already there. "Are we moving?" Bliss looked around at the clean metro cart; all she really made out came when the cart moved past the inner lights of the tunnel. That proved motion, she thought.

Bliss sprawled out on the bench across from Archer and tried to make polite conversation with a man she came to know through the worst of means. "Yeah. Can't say how she knew everything about me, or how she could anticipate my actions like she did, but whatever it was..." The comfort of her sleeve compensated for the cold. plastic seat her head sat upon. "...It was something I wish I could do." Lights continued to pass by her dazed head. She could manage to create some of the greatest information stealing devices in the world, but all she really wanted to get her hands on was the information that no computer could ever fully grasp. "I wonder where she got those powers. Knowing the feel of their assets I bet she somehow had those powers given to her through a serum or something. I wonder where she got it from." All of her questions could be answered in time. Now, she felt like taking a well deserved break before she could forge up the information she needed to get back home.

The underground train began to move as Bliss laid herself out in the bench across form himself and she spoke, but the words did not make Archer very happy. She touched her head with her sleeve, possibly trying to ease a pain in that area. The photographer rose from his seat and knelt down beside his companion and placed his hand on her shoulder as he asked an important question, “Are you alright? Did you hit your head?” He was worried for her, probably more than most people would be but given the current situation he felt he was justified. He would not let this woman die from something as demeaning as a head injury; it would make living through that hellhole of an experience pointless.

The lights from the outside tunnel walls came and went, giving a slight indication into just how fast they were going. Archer looked around for the first time, seeing that nobody seemed to be on the car with them, which was good because that would make it harder for someone to follow them. He was not sure if they were still being followed but he doubted it all the same. “Bliss, you have to be alright,” Archer was almost yelling, wanting to make sure she heard him, “I didn’t save you from that psycho-bitch for you to die here alright,” He was still yelling, which never crossed his mind not to do, and his words sounded more like a plea.

Archer just did not want this woman to die. He had taken a vow to not let anyone else suffer like his wife and daughter had and it still pained him to even think that someone he knew would die. Maybe that was a side effect of being immortal sense Archer never had to deal with the concept of staying dead, not anymore. All things considered, he did not want her to die. Not her.

Given the severity of the situation and the clear signs of head damage, perhaps Bliss could employ better techniques than lying down. Of course her displeasure with the scene occurring at her feet in no way pleased her in the slightest. "Okay..." Bliss lowly muttered to try and calm down the man. "I'll be okay; just calm down." Adjusting her position from lying on the seat to resting against the back of the seat put her in more of a position to prove that she would survive the train ride. "And stop drawing attention to us. No one wants to see a man crying on a German subway; also, I did a fair amount of saving as well, so let's not think that you..." Bliss held her hands in front of her in a general sign of 'cease.' "Maybe that's not as important as I'll make it later."

Rest never came easy to Bliss. She always needed to get things done, so do things she would. Bliss took out her computer and got to work using her assumed travel name to book a flight back to New York. The information for each of her travel names rested on a unique SIM card that she used. She could slide in new government issued numbers into her phone and create new people easier than some people could dial numbers. Ticket confirmed, and thanks to MOM corp, she no longer had any carry-ons. "I'm going back to America." Her tone came out more in a way to break the silence than as a conversation piece. This guy probably had ways to get back home. No need to worry; he probably wouldn't leave her side until she got on the plane though. "I need to know how to contact you once we get back in America. Is that okay?"

Archer was the type of person to worry about the safety of others before himself, ever since he had turned his life around that had been the case. He even tried to find the nonlethal solution to most of the ‘problems’ he faced in his odd line of work but that was easier said than done. There were a lot of moments in his life where he had done what he had to do to make sure that other people would be safe. It was always a hard decision, so hard that people dying because of him made him uneasy, like those people in the van that had crashed.

Then Bliss managed to surprise Archer once again, sitting up in her seat and speaking as plainly as ever, even going so far as to chastise him for being the worrier that he was. The man smiled; more to himself than to her but he did not hide it. Standing up off the floor, Archer sat down next to Bliss, making sure to put at least a foot between them. He did not want to crowd her. Archer looked around and noticed the few people wandering around and going in between the cars of the subway. He then laughed when he heard Bliss mentioning the part about who was saving who but she put that topic aside, for later or not it did not matter. She then asked him for his contact information.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind giving you a way to get in touch with me. You know a good journalist never gives up a contact,” He continued to talk as he searched his pockets for the piece of thin cardboard that he kept on him at most times. “Here it is. This is my work number and here is my cell phone number,” Archer said as he wrote down a series of numbers on the back. Handing it to her he thought he would ask a simple question of her, though this time he would not be shouting, “I can’t remember how you answered but I am pretty sure I asked earlier; Do you mind if I do a story about you for the New York Sentinel? Don’t worry; I won’t reveal who you are or anything about you.” He tried his best to assure her but he was sure it didn’t come across that way.

"Well, that's okay because I won't be giving you enough personal information to write about anyways." Bliss folded the paper in half and stuffed it inside of her jacket. "I only read the Sentinel for the crossword, so if I'm showing up on that I may take a gander at it, otherwise, well, I'll call you." The normalcy of the lighting faded from the blurred lights she viewed a few minutes earlier. Even if he wanted to give out her real information, no one would track her down.

Bliss walked out the door of the subway just like she walked out the minds of so many people who trusted and depended on her before. Her uneventful journey finally culminated in her passing through customs and before an eighteen hour plane trip could get boring, she landed back in her adopted home city. She tried throwing off more burdens, but every time you step in something the smell never really gets off of you. Maybe she was just tired; that could explain why no better ways to explain how she felt came to mind. That must be it.

He laughed at her response to his question. She was sure of herself, that much was very evident, and it brought a smile to Archer’s face which was becoming rarer and rarer with every passing day. She then went on to explain which paper she read and exactly why that was, earning yet another laugh. “I’ll be sure to remember that maybe I can see to it that the story gets in that one especially. Something like this should get the front page,” he said with his smile never fading. The subway began to slow and he knew that his time with the woman was quickly coming to a close.

She stood and began walking away, never looking back, faster than he had anticipated but he did not make a move to catch up. This was where they would part. She would not need him again on this surprise quest. “You could really be quite the hero, you know,” Archer said under his breath to her back as she got lost in the massive crowd around them. He began to make his way for the surface world, trying and failing not to bump into too many people, and once there he then turned for his hotel room that he had gotten upon his arrival to Germany. He had some work to do before this sun set, which was not too far off now.

With his camera in hand Archer snapped pictures in rapid succession of the destroyed building that Bliss and he had escaped from less than two hours ago. The sudden destruction of the building at the hands of a single female hero was the perfect story, his editor always loved fluff pieces that showed heroes were saviors and not menaces; unlike more than a few other editors. He had gotten more than enough to make his boss happy and with that he made his way back to his room so he could get fast to work e-mailing the pictures to the real writer for the story. Archer was not much one for writing but rather took the pictures and made a quick synopsis of what he had seen heard or done, though of course that took a little bit of fibbing so hero identities would not be found out or that his involvement would go unheard of by his peers.

With it now late into the night and Archer’s pictures and synopsis off to his editor, he had the rest of the night to himself. He cradled a tall bottle of Jack in one hand and another bottle of something Germany, though the cashier assured him it was strong enough to kill a small elephant, with several other empty bottles laying on the floor. It took a lot to get the photographer even close to drunk given his healing factor but the cashier’s choice in booze proved to be accurate and it was doing the trick but it was already quickly fading. A black out, a very rare thing for Archer, and he found himself on the roof of his temporary home, standing on the ledge in more ways than one. He was already almost completely sober.

Archer did not even have to worry about a hangover anymore; his healing factor was getting faster and more accurate. Perhaps it had something to do with it getting so much exercise. With a single step Archer made his choice for the night was made. It did not take more than a minute to hit the ground and spill his precious red blood across the pavement. The night would go like so many more in the past: he would be taken to the coroner, he would be put under ice, he would heal while they wanted to get him moved to a crematorium when they could not find any next of keen, he would wait for the noises outside his isolation area to fade to quiet, he would then leave the building, get his stuff, and the government would make up a story about the body going missing so they would not have to admit that it just disappeared. Archer will then leave for his home in the morning with no problems.