Tempest leaned against the thick glass window that loomed over the bustling streets of Hell's Haven.
A lot of cities had their nicknames. New York was "The City That Never Sleeps". Chicago was called "The Windy City". Well, Hell's Haven didn't need a nickname. It was named after exactly what it represented. In this city, one could always find the worst of the worst, be they Godkin or Human. But that wasn't the only reason for its name. The US government had dubbed it that based on a vote, since it was where eighty percent of the Godkin population in the country resided. There were tolls at every bridge and exit. They couldn't build walls without it being called oppression. But put in expensive toll routes? It was considered capitalist. She shook her head, as if to rid her mind of the thoughts. This city was poor, filled to the brim with people barely surviving, so they used strength to take what they wanted.
However, in the last fifteen years, since Tempest came to this city as an Enforcer for the Shredder Corps., she had been the toughest being in this city. Hell, maybe in the world.
But after yesterday...
She wasn't so sure.
It was just after her fight with Neon. Yeah, she was having trouble making peace with that one. She clenched the locket he'd handed her, unsure of what to do with it.
"What?!" Tempest said as she'd responded to Artemis' distress call.
She'd said...that there might be another Omega Level Godkin out there. She wasn't even sure that was possible. Ever since she was a child, a mere infant, she'd been at the forefront of Godkin study--not as a specialist--but as a specimen. She was the only known Godkin to ever have been born with more than Seventy percent God DNA. So, how in the hell was there someone else?
Surely, they couldn't have hidden from the spotlight for very long.
That's what she'd thought, at least.
Without hesitation, she'd used her super-speed to rush across the city, to the Zero Zone, where Artemis' Signal had last transmitted from.
She came to a stop near a deep crater, keen eyes searching the darkness of the night for her friend.
"Artemis!" She called out. But she found nothing.
She moved toward the edge of the crater, her eyes locking on two figures in the center.
With her immense speed, she was in front of the two within seconds.
One of them was Artemis, unconscious, her head tinged red from blood that had been wiped away. She rested on a large jacket like it was a pillow. The other was a man that she'd never seen before.
He appeared to be injured, too, with Yokai black eyes that gave away his Godkin heritage.
"Who are you? What the hell--what the hell happened here? Did you do this?" Tempest snapped at the man who appeared unfazed by her appearance.
"Yes, but I had no idea that she was an Enforcer, so--"
His words were cut off by a guttural growl. "You sonofabitch! How Dare you!" She kicked him across the jaw with her heel, sending him flying into the side of the crater with a deafening blast of wind. Concrete and pavement dust fused with the air, swirling and billowing as it settled.
Tempest should have heard him out, at least in hindsight. But, as always, when someone close to her was hurt, she lost all sense of reason. She was always terrified of losing someone. Having been alone her whole life, the Shredder Corps. had become the closest thing to family that she had ever known. Maybe they weren't the closest family, but, then again, how would she know?
It was strange. In all daily occurrences of her job, she could maintain her composure. She'd seen disembowelments, dismembered corpses, crying children turned to ash and was always able to remain calm.
But in something like this?
She didn't know. It was like she had this deep-seated fear that everyone around her was going to die.
"Jesus, Lady!" The blond man pulled himself out of the indentation his body had made with the earth. "Let me talk--" She sped toward him with her fist reared back, unleashing all the energy she'd stored up from her last battle.
"Okay, guess we're fighting now! Alright, let's not talk things out like adults!" The blond man chided as he pulled a sword hilt from his waist.
She gave him a quizzical look, as if to ask, "How are you planning to fight with no blade?"
The man raised the hilt. There was a stirring in the air, like metal grinding against metal, and suddenly shadows formed into the shape of a blade on his hilt.
So... A Hades Type.
If this man truly was an Omega, then they'd undoubtedly be evenly matched in combat. She'd always wondered what that would be like. Fighting against someone who could actually put up a decent fight.
Oh, please. You know how this is gonna' end. You hail from Zeus, the most powerful of the Gods. One of your powers is absorption and conversion of all types of energy. His attacks will be useless.
"Let's get this over with, asshole!" Tempest snapped, her anger fueled even more as she glanced at the pale Artemis, fresh blood leaking from the wound in her head.
Tempest crouched, then jumped, the power of which leaving a small crater where her feet had been. She flew into the air so fast that the air pressure below her altered drastically, like an inconceivably large vacuum sucking the air upward at super-speed.
The blond man summoned shadows around his booted feet. They formed into a two-dimensional spiral, then rose rapidly like a spring, launching him toward her with his blade reared back, ready to slash.
Tempest sent a blast of kinetic energy out of her hand, narrowly dodging his swipe and used the momentum to twist into a heel-strike kick to his lower back.
The blow sent the man tumbling back into the ground.
With an angry roar, Tempest aimed her body like a missile at the man, her boots colliding with his abdomen. Dust rose around them, and when it cleared, the pale skin of the man's face was constricted in pain. Blood seeped from his mouth and rolled across the various ugly scars that marred him.
"Damn, Woman, you're tough." He snapped his fingers and then he phased into the ground, vanishing before her very eyes.
Density Shifting?
Yeah, now there's no doubt.
All Godkin below Omega only had one power of their respective lineage, unless they were a Bane. However, an Omega like her had multiple abilities that fell under their lineage.
So, this guy's either a Bane, like Artemis, or an Omega like me.
"I've never had this much of a challenge fighting someone that wasn't my brother."
The man reappeared several feet in front of her, clutching his side. She glared daggers at him, fist clenched. Her glove groaned in protest.
"Well, if you'll allow me to talk now...I'm sorry about your friend. I was chasing someone, my brother. I guess your friend confused me with him after he robbed the museum and attacked me. At the same time...I had confused her with an assassin that was backing my brother up. But in the end, she told me who she was and—"
"How the hell did she end up like that?!" Tempest pointed at her, barely able to contain herself. She wasn't in the mood to hear anyone out. She needed to punch something, especially after the morning she'd had in the city.
He screwed his face up, as if trying to say something, but he couldn't find the right words. She wasn't sure what to make of him in that moment. He had a very lackadaisical way about his demeanor that contrasted with his harsh expression. Similarly, his facial features were sharp, delicate, almost like a ballet dancer or an actor, and they contrasted profoundly with the horrifying scars that made him look like some mythical monster from some fantasy novel. "Well, see...she--well, she kind of kept attacking, so I knocked her unconscious because I couldn't very well escape. I didn't really have the time. I needed to catch up with my brother. And, then I let my more chivalrous side take over and I cleaned her head-wound and—" His eyes widened as she summoned more power to her fists.
"You bastard! I'll kill you!" She ran at him with the speed of a train, ready to cave his head in, but, at the last second, her body stopped. The punch that didn't make contact blew wind into his face that tore at the terrain behind him but damaged him none.
At first, in that moment, she hadn't been sure why she had stopped herself from killing him. After all, he'd hurt her friend, and attacked an Enforcer. Technically, because of the fact that she was locked in combat with him, she had had every right to take his life.
It wasn't like she hadn't done it before.
Honestly, though she'd never admit it to anyone, even herself, she had killed for a lot less.
And despite that, just before her fist made contact with his jaw, the face of Darryl "Neon" Jones popped into her head. The picture of him tending to his terminally ill daughter.
The pained look on his face as he spent his last breaths asking for her help in one final matter: Saving his daughter.
She'd never seen anything so raw, so real. An act of paternal love that went beyond anything she'd ever seen herself.
"I surrender." He said, letting the sword drop the ground. The shadow blade dissipated instantly. "I truly don't want to fight you all anymore. I just want to find my brother. And, honestly, if you guys don't want the world to end, you should help me."
She growled low in her throat as he knelt before her, tucking his hands behind his neck. She took a power-dampening collar and wrapped it around his throat.
While they waited in silence for the Airship to retrieve them, the blond man looked at her with curiosity brimming in his eyes.
"You had me dead to rights back there, Enforcer. I heard that you guys are murderers, remorseless killers. So, why did you hesitate against me? Can you not handle the weight?"
And with that, he'd been their prisoner. She wasn't very sure of what he'd meant by what he said. And she hadn't had a lot of time to think about it. Only an hour later, after the man, who she'd later learned was named Kyn, was locked up, she was summoned yet again to deal with an out-of-control Enforcer. An eye-sore and evil sonofabitch that deserved to be locked up for the rest of his life with no hope of ever seeing the light of day again.
The Wendigo.
Every time that monster was unleashed, people died. He was a damned charity case. Kept with them because the government didn't want to deal with him. According to the officer who guarded the monster at his cage, The Wendigo was more complex than that. That he had a heart. She didn't buy it. Not one bit. He was a killing machine, and was probably better off dead.
Who the hell are you to talk about death like you're some altruist? You've killed just as many.
Again, she clenched the locket that Neon had given her, wishing that she could go back in time and stop herself--
Why am I feeling remorse?! Dammit, what is wrong with me!?
She'd never felt this way about any kill, no matter the circumstances.
After another hour of staring out the window, as a rain had begun to fall in a pitter patter to the grass and long sidewalk several stories below her quarters, she put the locket in a drawer next to her bed and quit the room.
She walked down the narrow corridor to a set of stairs. She stopped and stared into the blackness that led to the lower levels, where all the cells for criminal-Godkin were kept. It was also where their latest catches were being held.
She took a step, but hesitated. She wanted to go and talk to him...
But should she?
In all the time she'd been an enforcer, she'd killed many, but there were some that had known her and chose to surrender. Of all those that she'd put down in these holding cells before they were transported to Tartarus Supermax, she'd never--not once--visited any of them. They never crossed her mind, barely important enough for a passing thought.
And yet, Kyn spoke of the world ending. If his brother is as strong as him, as strong as me, then we have one hell of a problem on our hands.
After a few more seconds, she took the next step into darkness, to the Holding cells.
The cells were arranged on either side of the wide halls, encircling the underground of Shredder HQ. Most of the transparent glass cells were empty, save a few minor criminals here and there that the other Enforcers had captured. She went around the curved walls to the next set of cells, her boots clacking against the tiles in a rhythmic beat until she finally came upon Kyn's cell.
Across from him was the other prisoner, who was even less talkative than the Yokai-black eyed Kyn.
"Look who decided to drop by. Thought about what I said?" Kyn said nonchalantly, as if he were not the one in the cell.
Apollo, the other man across the hall from Kyn, glared at him, as if imagining tearing the man apart. Kyn ignored him.
"That's not my choice. Besides, you've offered up no valid information about who you are and where you came from. I can't trust you on words alone."
Well, I'm not sure that's relevant. Plus, I'm not a hundred percent sold that this isn't a ruse set up by my brother. Since he's here, anyway." he pointed at his prison-mate across the hall, his orange jumpsuit rustling as he did so.
Tempest snorted. "I don't know who either of you are. Look, if you don't talk, you don't go free. Moreover, you'll have to deal with Clarion and you don't want that."
Kyn leaned forward on his cot, resting his elbows on his long legs. "Ooh. You sound unsettled by him. He that scary?"
"You don't want to find out."
He nodded.
"I--I wanted to ask you what you meant. After you surrendered, you said something about me not being able to handle the weight. What did you mean by that?"
Suddenly, stoicism returned to the man's face. "Ah. I suppose I can tell you that much. I've killed a lot of people. And I know a killer's eyes when I see them--"
"What does that have to do with it? It's pretty obvious I'm a murderer." Tempest said with a self-deprecating scoff.
"No, that's not it. You may not show it, but I see remorse in those eyes. You don't want to kill anyone. I just think, like a lot of your friends, you're a victim of circumstances, forced to kill for a government so they don't persecute you. By 'weight', I was referring to the mounds of bodies that we leave in our wake, wrapped around our ankles like a ball and chain. It's a lot of weight to carry."
She narrowed her eyes in thought as she tried to mull over his words. As a Godkin, she'd always felt as though these emotions were trivial. But if she wasn't the only one who was feeling them...
"Can I ask you, Kyn, who were you Give me that much. Please."
If he doesn't, he might be killed. I don't know why I care, but I do.
He stared at her, his piercing eyes searching for any hint of ulterior motives in her amber eyes.
After a few moments, he must've seen that she was asking purely for her own sake.
"I was an assassin."
With that, he turned away, closing his eyes.
He must've been done talking.
She sighed and went back to her quarters.
Suddenly, the small bed that sat against the windowed wall, the little bathroom just to the right of that, her desk and kitchenette to the left, the things that had been her comfort for so long... they weren't so comforting anymore.
That bed is the bed of a killer.
She opened the drawer of the end table next to her bed and retrieved the locket. She undressed until she was in her underwear, sitting on the bed, brushing a finger across the surface metallic surface of the heart shaped necklace.
"So-sorry. Tell Delilah...that I'm sorry. Tell her that I lov--l-ove her---"
She clenched the locket tighter as she felt the guilt rack her harder and harder.
She couldn't take it anymore. This weight...Kyn was right. No one could handle this burden, neither Godkin nor Human. And all that coming from an assassin such as he made the point even more valid.
Tempest tapped the three-inch terminal on her forearm that was strapped into her bracer, then ran a search for Delilah Jones.
After a few moments, she got her results.
Delilah Akon Jones
Patient, Cancer Ward, Hell's Haven Memorial Hospital
Comments: Godkin-protection Act only covers for one more week. Payment Pending. Upon expiration of allotted time for said payment, patient is to be transported to Government-oversighted Clinic.
"What the fuck!?" She gasped audibly at the gall of these assholes.
If they didn't get their money, they were going to send Delilah to a "Government-Oversighted Clinic"? Yeah, right. They might as well have sentenced the girl to death.
Alright...
Fuck this. I'm done acting like a government drone.
From this moment on, she would be thinking for herself.
At least, after all the wrongdoings she had committed in the last fifteen years of service to the humans, she could try and save just this one girl.
When out on her off-time, Tempest would obviously never be caught dead in her battle suit. It drew way too much attention. People would sneer at her, knowing that she was an Enforcer. As she disembarked the Shuttle-Cab outside the landing pad that sat in front of Hell's Haven Memorial, she wore a pair of slim blue jeans with black-leather Converse, a black t-shirt that displayed a character from one of her favorite anime, all topped off with a low-cut leather jacket.
Her short brown hair was damp as a light rain fell around her, the sun beginning to shine through the clouds and cut through some of the gloom that had recently taken over the despicable city in which she had lived for so long.
The locket was still clutched tightly in her hands, her thumb brushing lightly over the surface.
She went inside and to the front desk, avoiding eye contact with everyone that was around her.
She wasn't sure why, but when she wasn't dressed in her battle suit with her hood pulled over her head, she found her confidence diminished. There was something about the costume, the power it gave her. She'd built an identity with that hood. In uniform, she was The Tempest, a bringer of storms, an invincible protector. But without it, she was unsure of who she really was.
"Here to see Delilah Jones." She said to the lady that sat behind the Information desk.
"Are you a family member?" She asked at once.
"Uh...no. I--I'm with The Shredder Corps. I'm here to talk to her about her father." She tried to keep the guilt out of her voice, but no matter what, she felt as though it was plainly obvious to everyone that she was a murderer.
It was as if every set of eyes in the waiting atrium were peering into her, saying, "We know what you did."
She tried to ignore the look the woman gave her after hearing her association to an organization that openly associated with Godkin.
"Do you have any ID, Miss?" The woman asked snidely.
With gritted teeth, Tempest showed her badge to the woman.
"Jerusalem Jones? So, you are related?" The woman asked as she read Tempest's real name aloud.
"No. Just a coincidence that we have the same last name. But, as you can see, I'm with the military, so if you'll show me to the young lady's room, that would be most helpful."
The woman scoffed, but obliged her, taking her to a nearby elevator.
Jerusalem.
The home of a people that persevered, a people that were, several times throughout history, persecuted. Her father found that a name such as hers was a slap in the face of humanity.
"I named you based on a people's strength and perseverance. You will be the one that saves us."
She internally scoffed at her father's last words to her before he'd been executed for his part in the terrorist attack a century ago that resulted in the birth of the Zero-Zone, where she'd recently fought the assassin named Kyn.
She stepped into the Mag-Lev Elevator, which shot her up to the seventeenth floor. She exited, following the attendant that met her.
Are they seriously keeping patients on this floor?
The difference between the first floor and this one...
It was almost as if they specifically kept this floor filthy just because Godkin were kept here.
The white tile floors were so marred with grime and dirt, trash and needles littered the floor. The paint on the walls was peeling, as if the terrible odor that befell this place had caused it. There were screams as others of her kind begged for pain-killers that they weren't granted.
She clenched her fist and came to a stop.
The human attendant stopped as well, looking back at her with a knowing sneer. "What's wrong, Miss?" She said snidely.
She didn't know what to say. Without her costume, she felt powerless, despite the fact that she could kill this measly human with the flick of her pinky finger. She wanted to speak up, to voice her concerns at the ghastly treatment of her people...
But, ultimately, she just couldn't. What could she change? She might be more powerful than an army of men, but she wasn't nearly as loud.
She was just Jerusalem Jones.
"Nothing. Nothing is wrong."
With that, and a shameful expression tearing across her face, Jerusalem followed the woman to a terribly small room at the end of the hall. Then, the woman left her, a palpable hate stirring the air as she left.
Jerusalem took a deep breath, brushing her thumb across the locket, then she opened the door.
She wasn't sure what she expected to find when she entered that room. In her mind, she imagined Delilah Jones as a delightful little angel, maybe a bit sensitive.
But boy was she off the mark.
"Get the hell away from me! I wanna' see my father, I need to go to his funeral! Hey! If you come near me with that needle, I'll fucking kill you!" The little sixteen-year-old girl, who had short brown hair that brushed her neck, was defiantly resisting two nurses who appeared to be trying to sedate her.
"Miss Jones, please stay calm! If you keep this up, we'll have to kick you out of here!"
Jerusalem clenched her fists. While the girl was...a bit crude, to say the least, that didn't excuse what the nurse was saying. The mere idea that they'd kick a terminally ill child to the curb was absurd and cruel.
"What's going on here?" Jerusalem interjected, causing the two nurses who were holding the girl down, the girl, and the other nurse with the syringe to look up.
"Who the hell are you?" Delilah asked, tearing away from the nurses, who backed off.
Jerusalem grabbed her badge and flashed it to them all. "Jerusalem Jones. Tempest, if you like. I'm with the Shredder Corps. I need to have a word with Ms. Jones. But, first, I'd like to know why you three were harassing her so."
The nurse with the syringe, a woman with short blond hair and sharp, witch-like features, tsked. "She's been disrupting the other patients. She's too loud, always complaining about things that we have no control of. Even if we did have control, who the hell would bother with Godkin trash?"
Jerusalem wanted to flick the woman through the wall and to her doom. It would be so easy...she was just a meager human.
"I'd say that she has a right to complain. The conditions of this floor are incorrigible. Grime coats the tile, trash is piled up in the halls. Patients are screaming, begging for medicine. All this, and this little girl is terminal, without her father here to help her. Why don't you ask what she needs and accommodate accordingly? Otherwise, I'll get my superiors up here and have this place shut the fuck down."
That seemed to hit a nerve. The nurses glanced nervously between each other; anger buried beneath their fear. Funny thing was, her superior, Clarion didn't have a lick of pull to make something like that happen. She was just thankful that people overestimated the power the military held.
Finally, the witch-nurse turned to Delilah. "What is it that you want? Why have you been being so disruptive?"
"I-I'm cold. I only have a thin sheet and the heater on this floor doesn't work." Delilah said, uncertainty staining her voice. "And I want to watch my father's funeral on the news. I hear they are filming it." This was the girl she had pictured, apprehensive and meek. She didn't look like the photo either. Tempest knew Delilah was at least sixteen, but she could easily pass for a preteen.
The witch-nurse glared at the girl, as if wanting to slap her for having complaints.
"Go get the blankets, now." Tempest snapped at them with a vicious glare. She wasn't sure where the confidence came from. She was glad to have it, though.
They immediately took off running, leaving her and Delilah alone.
Jerusalem couldn't help but notice the terrible conditions in which this poor girl was forced to stay. The white tiles were stained brown with something she couldn't begin to identify. The room was only twelve-by eighteen feet, which was only an enough for the bed, and a tiny bathroom with outdated accommodations. Her bed was thin, though at least it was electrical.
There was nowhere for Tempest to sit, so she just stood.
The nurses brought the blankets, then quickly took off again when she glared at them.
They were terrified of her. Everyone usually was. Some humans were brave. They'd show no fear in the face of the most powerful Godkin ever born. Most were like these nurses. The moment they heard her name, they pissed their pants.
"What the hell do you want?" Delilah glared angrily at her.
Tempest wasn't sure herself. She came here to give the girl her father's locket. But there was more to it than that.
"I'm--"
"You're 'The Tempest.' Right? An Enforcer." There was so much malice in her voice that, if words could kill, hers would have already vaporized Tempest on the spot.
"You know me?"
"Yeah. Every Godkin knows you. The most powerful of us all and you're held on a leash like a dog. Psh. Traitorous bitch."
She brushed her fingers across the locket. Tempest deserved this girl's hate, and then some. And maybe she was right. And, while she had thought herself to be the only Omega--until the assassin came into the picture and proved that she was indeed not the most powerful Godkin out there--that didn't mean this girl was wrong in the least. If anything, it just further confirmed the girl's point. There were others like her out there, powerful Godkin. And, who knows? Maybe the Government was hiding one in their ranks as a secret weapon.
No matter how she looked at it, she just couldn't find a way to justify the people she was fighting for.
A long time ago--
No.
Only a couple of days ago, she would have spouted some arbitrary crap about how she was defending the world from terrible people.
But now, she wasn't so sure.
"Well, what do you want, bitch?"
"You really should watch your language. You're only a little kid, after all."
"Fuck you."
Jerusalem sighed. "I came to--to tell you that--I was there when your father was killed."
The anger burning in the girl's eyes dissolved into disbelief. "So, you were the one that killed him, then?" The look on her face was one of many emotions: Shame, malice, hate, anguish.
And who could blame her?
"I'm sorry. He--he told me to give you this." Jerusalem extended her hand and placed the locket in the girl's lap. "Sorry that it took so long for me to give it to you. I--I didn't have the courage till now."
Her eyes lit up with recognition upon seeing the locket. Gone was the abrasive child, as tears welled up in her eyes. "You have some nerve coming here. I would kill you if I wasn't dying. Don't care what the news says. You don't look so tough." Despite the threat, the girl was in tears, face ashen with grief.
Jerusalem wasn't sure how to help.
She wanted to, and yet...
As the girl's screams filled her ears, she began to feel this pain in her own chest. Like she couldn't breathe. Like the weight of the entire world was pressing in on her chest. An oppressive heat took hold of her despite the cold, damp room. Rivulets of sweat coated the nape of her neck and made her palms slick.
"What happened to my papa! How! Why?!" The girl, her neon purple eyes dripping wildly with a river of tears, begged for an explanation.
"I--"
I killed him.
That was what she was going to say. It really was. But, in the face of this girl who wanted nothing but the comfort of her papa, she couldn't say it.
"I--I murdered your father."
That could have gone better.
After she'd told the girl the truth and gotten that weight off her chest, Delilah had pierced her with a hateful glare so powerful, she was surprised that she wasn't dead.
But that wasn't all...
There was something else in her. Something powerful.
If her father was a Godkin, it only stood to reason that she could be one, too.
Whatever the case, I will save her. Even if she hates me along the way. I can't let her be a victim of my own stupidity.
She left the hospital, the rain clearing the way for a cool wind that belied the intense heat of the summer.
Her Terminal vibrated, signifying that she was receiving a call.
Liam...what the hell could he want?
She tapped the answer button and swiped so that a hologram of him appeared before her.
It was then that her breath caught in her chest.
He was bleeding profusely from a wound in his stomach and a gash along his shoulder that neared his throat. His eyes were bloodshot, and one was so badly beaten that he couldn't open it.
He looked like a walking corpse.
"Liam! What the hell happened? Where are you!?"
He coughed, spewing blood toward her, though it passed harmlessly through her corporeal form. "I--I tried to stop them. I--I don't know who they are. They're--stronger than me. Maybe even stronger--than you. -----" Static screamed due to poor connection. "--white house. Ge--get here soon."
Then the connection faltered, his image blurring, until it collapsed in on itself altogether.