Chaos

Prologue

A lone figure sits at the edge of a building.

Fire surrounds the city and large plumes of smoke cascades over the damaged landscape, making a once vibrant metropolis completely unrecognizable. The man just sits over the wreckage, looking out at the city from atop the demolished buildings.

Paramedics run around like ants below carrying away heaps of bodies, both allies and enemies. He watches as they move from corpse to corpse, disregarding none but the one that lays at his feet. The one that he just ripped into two pieces with just a thought.

The Major get up paces over to the edge of the building. Eyes never leaving the torn apart body.

"I didn't want this." He said in a deep low voice.

His lips form a small sad smirk. "I always pictured us retiring on a beach somewhere, drinking those fruity looking drinks, our wives nagging at us to get off our lazy asses."

The Major lets out a low chuckle, but it falls flat halfway through. He takes a moment and rubs his face slightly, letting out a soft but reflective sigh as his lips slowly lower from a small smirk to a deep and regretfully frown.

"Why couldn't you just get with the fucking program!!" He stands up in frustration, waiting for his dead friend to respond.

"You knew there was no way we could've saved everyone.... but we at least could've saved ourselves... our fucking families." He slumps back down.

"But you wanted to be the hero. You just had to try and 'save the race'". He scoffs in disgust, "As if those people were worth saving."

Helicopter blades roar from overhead as a single chopper descends from the smoke. It stops and hovers over him. The bright beady red eye of a camera lens watching his every move.

The Major pulls a cloth from the pouch on his belt, and wipes way his friends' blood from his face. He looks up at the small black news drone, doubtlessly hovering over them from a safe distance throughout the entire fight.

He plasters a smile on his chiseled dark face and gives a triumphant wave towards the drone, practically hearing the cheers from his adoring audience. Cheers for his victory in battle. Cheers for the brutal murder he just committed. Cheers for putting down the "monstrous evil man" that existed in all their nightmares for years. Tormenting them with the idea of equality.

"These are the people you wanted to save?"

He finishes his wave, takes one more look at the corpse of the only man he ever truly respected, and takes off into the sky, passing the hundreds of bodies that litter the ground below.

.....

The Major has always liked flying. He used to say that there was nothing more peaceful then soaring through the sky at night. But today was different.

Below he could he could see the countless people marching in the street with homemade signs saying, "Kill the Freaks" He could hear their angry chants and gun shots they fired off into the air to scare anyone that got in their way. Their bloodlust was thick and clear.

Back in the day, his job would have been to put a stop to this raving collection of racist filth. Now a days he thought that if the people in power didn't care about was happening on their streets, then why should he.

But for a fleeting second, he wishes that things could go back to the way they were. But he knew that was impossible, the blood on his uniform was a clear reminder of that.

He flew through the sky, passing over the large mob, when his radio crackled to life.

"Sir *Static* ...come in... *static* can you hear me?" A voice cuts in and out on the radio.